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#there’s a chance they just forgot the flags up there
ruby-red-inky-blue · 2 months
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my hero today is whoever is keeping two big pride flags waving over Dresden main station a full month after pride month ended
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asteraceaye · 4 months
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I'm still not over the fact that I accidentally left my pair of scissors in my backpack and TSA flagged them and then let me keep them 😭
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jamespotterismydaddy · 9 months
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When Nobody's Around
luke castellan x reader
capture the flag pt 2!
A/N: not me keeping my promises and posting three days in a row
TW: so much smut omg, throat-fucking, pussy slapping, cockwarming, overstim
word count: 1,225 words
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After what happened with Luke the other day, you need to do something to cool off, to get your mind off of it. Training is the perfect thing. You make your way down to the grounds with Clarisse. Your half-sister is the perfect person to train with because she fights so hard that it gives you no chance to think.
“Fuck.” You murmur. You’re already there when you realize you forgot something. “I have to go back for my sneakers.” 
“Don’t take too long, dumbass.” She smirks and you roll your eyes before jogging back to your cabin. It’s so weird because you could’ve sworn on your life that you had brought them.
You shake off the feeling and open the cabin door. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, all your siblings are training and whatnot. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not�� Luke Castellan who is sitting on your bed, holding your sneakers.
What. The. Fuck.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states, giving you an easygoing grin.
“Get out of my cabin.”
“No.”
“Not only are you not meant to be in here, I also don’t want you here.” Your voice is angry as you walk towards him.
“I think you do.”
You scoff. “Stop acting like you know me.” 
He gives you a sly smile. “But I do know you… very intimately.”
“If you’re here for another hookup, it’s not going to happen.” You say adamantly.
He stands up, walking towards you. You hate the way he towers over your smaller body. “I’m actually here to apologize.” 
“Apologize?” You ask doubtingly, not really thinking he was the type.
“Yeah.” His hands fall to your waist. You don’t shove him off right away, waiting to see where this all goes. “I was very rough with you before.” His hand slides up to hold your chin, thumbing your lip. “Maybe I wanted to be more gentle this time? Get down on my knees and eat you nice and slow.”
“I can’t stand you.” You breathe out as his hand ghosts down, rubbing over your breast.
“You’re such a damn brat.” He gives you a squeeze. “I thought I fucked that out of you last time but apparently not.”
You want to come up with some clever retort but all you can do is whimper in response.
“Now, how about you get on your knees and if you suck me well enough maybe, just maybe, i’ll get you off.”
You drop to your knees. You hate to admit it but you like the way he talks to you. No other guy has enough confidence to try and put you in your place.
“What a submissive little slut.” He coos as he grips your hair with one hand.
“I’ll bite your cock off.” You say as you unzip his jeans, tugging them down.
“We both know that would be more of a loss for you than me.” He chuckles at how your eyes widen when he pulls his dick out. He may have been inside of you but you never actually saw how big he is. “Suck it.”
You glare but take him in your mouth as far back as you can. You gag when the tip of him touches the back of your throat.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on my cock.” He murmurs as he begins to thrust into your mouth languidly. Your eyes water as you try to suck him off but it’s more like being throat-fucked instead with the way he grips your hair to pull your head back and forth. He gives a little slap to your cheek. “No teeth.” He warns as he continues to use your mouth like he pleases.
You’re surprised when he pulls out before finishing. “You can swallow my cum another time. I plan on keeping my promises.”
When you’re on your feet, Luke pulls you into a kiss. He taps your ass once so you jump, letting him hold you as he walks you back to your bed. He parts his lips from yours, placing you down so you sit on the edge of your bed.
“It’s your turn to get on your knees.” You say cheekily.
“Don’t go acting like you’re in charge.” He says but kneels anyhow. “I’m not opposed to giving that ass a few more smacks.” You shift a bit at the comment as he pulls off your pants. “Oh, maybe you’d like that.”
“I wouldn’t.” You lie as he yanks down your panties, revealing how wet you are.
“No?” He asks, amused before laying a harsh smack to your cunt. You drip out more arousal. “Liar.” He murmurs before digging in.
His hands hold tight to your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. It’s stimulating too much and just the right amount all at once. You begin to whine and try to squirm away but he keeps you firmly in place with his strong hands as he laps up your arousal.
“Better than fucking ambrosia.” He looks up, grinning like a devil before nipping at your clit. Your hand is in his hair now, pulling tightly as you’re so close… so close and then… he stops.
“Luuuke…” You whine in frustration.
“Sorry, baby but you’re gonna cum around my cock.”
He picks you up like you weigh nothing and throws you back further on the bed before shifting his body between your legs. He uses his dick to tease your clit and you whimper.
“Please, Luke.” You beg, looking at him with doe eyes.
“Look at you, so pretty as you beg to be fucked. I’ll give you what you want.” His words are so lewd but his voice is so gentle.
He slips himself inside of you in one go, once again not caring about you adjusting. Though, he exercises a bit more restraint this time, not moving quite yet. He at least wants you to be able to walk somewhat well after this. He leans down to kiss your neck, leaving love bites that you'll have to explain later before he actually starts to give you what you need. He begins to thrust, trying to avoid acting like a rabid dog even if he knows you like it.
“You’re so fucking tight. Never had such a tiny little pussy before.” The way you squeeze around him has him throwing all decorum out the window. He begins to fuck into you like this is the last chance he’ll get.
“Mmm Luke, harder.” You beg.
“Fucking slut.” He says with a grin before slinging your leg over his shoulder so he can piston into you deeper.
“Want you… to cum… inside.” The words have him going feral. He uses his thumb to rub your clit, making you spasm under him.
“Is that all it takes? Barely even had to touch your sweet pearl.” You cream around his cock and he fucks you through it. The overstimulation has you seeing stars but after a few moments, his thrusts finally begin to slow. He stills and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim until it spills out.
He slumps down on you, pressing tired kisses to your collarbone as he lets you cockwarm him.
“Want me to go?” He asks. 
It should be an easy answer. You should say yes.
“No… stay.” 
And he smiles.
taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread
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devondespresso · 20 days
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Let Me Raise The Bar
T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff
This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3
dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys
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This night is going terribly.
He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.
Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.
He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!
But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.
At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.
Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.
And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.
But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.
His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.
He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.
He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.
Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.
“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”
There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.
“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”
He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”
Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.
Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”
Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.
“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.
Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.
He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.
He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.
The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.
Maybe this night really can turn around.
“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.
“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.
“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”
Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.
“You practice that one a lot?”
Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.
“Yeah, it’s uh…”
“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”
Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.
Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.
“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”
“A special kind of shitty?”
“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”
“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”
“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”
Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”
“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”
Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”
A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.
Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.
“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”
Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”
Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.
“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.
Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.
“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”
Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.
“So your job. You like it here?
“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”
“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”
“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”
“Where'd you guys play?”
“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”
Steve nods.
“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“
“Sounds like a great second date.”
Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.
“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”
“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”
“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.
Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.
“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”
Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.
“Guidance counselor, actually.”
“Oh damn, really?”
“Yeah, Middle school.”
“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”
“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”
“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”
“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”
“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”
“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”
“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed
“Twenty-six.”
Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.
“You'd love them, they're all–
Steve’s phone buzzes.
Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.
His phone buzzes again.
And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.
Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.
“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”
“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”
“I texted you what happened.”
“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”
“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”
“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.
“Is going well.” Steve smiles.
“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.
“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.
“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”
“M’not doing that.”
“I will though, I’ll go after him–”
“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.
“Steve, I know–”
“Love you, bye–”
“Steeeeve–”
“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.
“Sorry about that.” Steve says.
“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”
“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”
Eddie snorts.
“What was she calling about?”
“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”
Eddie nods civilly.
“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”
“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.
“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.
“Then why keep going to them?”
Steve shrugs.
“Call me an optimist, I guess.”
Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.
_
The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.
It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.
So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.
Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.
“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.
“So Dustin is…?”
“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”
“Nerd shit?”
“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”
“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.
“Casually.”
“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”
“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.
“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.
“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.
“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.
Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.
“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.
“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.
“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”
Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.
“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.
“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.
Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.
“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.
Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.
“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.
It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.
Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.
And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.
_
“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.
He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.
“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”
Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.
“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”
Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.
“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”
If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.
Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.
“What do you want?”
Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.
“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”
Eddie nods.
“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”
Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.
“And?”
Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.
“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”
Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.
“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”
Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.
“Okay, then. Case closed.”
“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.
It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.
Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.
Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.
Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.
Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.
Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.
“Does this mean I can get your number?”
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slvttyplum · 11 months
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‎ ‎༘⋆⟡jjk men red flags/green flags
nanami
- right off the bat we’re starting off with red flags
- man is way too prompt
- “hey, babe make the reservation for 5:00pm.”
- he does it and the day of, you guys are running five minutes late
- he’s PISSED and cancels the reservation (this is so funny in my head)
- you’re just standing there like so…. what now
- green flag. he’ll listen to anything you say
- even if it’s bullshit he’ll listen and actually talk about.
- great listener
satoru
- this man child cannot take no for an answer
- lowkey problematic when you think about it
- he wants shit his way
- “can you come over today, i’m free.”
- “no, i’m busy sorry satoru.”
- this man goes MAD
- well why not? no come. please. no you’re coming
- his green flag is he stands on business; may not be then and there but believe it WILL get done
- shows up and shows out
- notices the little things also
- wearing a certain color all the time?
- man will show up with 80 different items in that color on a random tuesday
suguru
- a red flag of his is being forgetful
- you’ll ask him a question and he’ll say “hmmm.” and after minutes of silence you just let it go
- he’s clingy… a little TOO clingy
- “where are you going?” “where’d you get that?” “i don’t remember you wearing that, when’d you get it.” “ah no it’s fine i’ll skip my 5 meetings and come with you.”
- his green flag is he’s very open and honest about things
- ask him anything and he’ll tell you
- he supports your every goal and will support you
toji
- he gaslights you, controlling, condescending, lies, tears down your confidence ever chance he gets, gets angry way too quickly.
- as you can see those are his red flags
- his green flags… i’m finding it i’m finding it
- good dick? hm what else
- he’s intelligent
- half the time he knows what he’s doing, he’s not dumb, but…
- sigh
- most of the time his intelligence is used to do the following above
- wait wait wait!! i forgot one
- he’s loyal. if you’re the right one for him, he’ll stick with you, so i guess that’s something.
choso
- he plays music way too loud
- this is just the tip of the iceberg but i just found it funny
- you tell him to turn it down and he will but only like 2 notches?
- he gets defensive/sensitive over certain things
- “hey your ponytail is lopsided.” “HUH? it’s not i literally just did it, what about it looks wrong to you?” “woah…”
- his green flag is… family man and very committed
- he’s going to show you you’re the only one that matters
- he loves his family and WILL let you know every second
- “hey did i tell you that itadori is coming, we need to clean out the spare room.”
- WHILE YOU’RE ACTIVELY LIFTING BOXES TO CLEAN OUT THE ROOM.
honorable mention
sukuna
- manipulater
- dude he fucking hates your guts
- will make you feel like you’re crazy
- selfish and sadistic (not in the good way)
- but…
- if he likes you enough he won’t kill you so that’s that.
722 notes · View notes
strangersatellites · 8 months
Text
the one with the shacker shirt | more frat king steve x his problem causing bf eddie
a mini collab with @amethyst-crowns !!
it’s a cool friday night and eddie’s two tequila shots, a handful of beers, and a cigarette into his setlist at this point. their dedicated few fans are up front and center scream singing along with them while the rest of the bar is bustling with life.
with drinks being spilled, food being ordered and then forgotten about, sorority girls having deep meaningful talks in the bathroom so long their boyfriends’ forgot they were there.
it’s a friday night at his favorite college bar and eddie is buzzing with energy.
he’s got his guitar slung over his back and he’s taking a beer break, eyes scanning over the room in search of his favorite boy. he’s probably somewhere charming his way into free drinks in a way that never fails to leave eddie laughing and a bit baffled. he gets it though, everybody else is just as wrapped around steve’s finger as he is so he can’t say anything.
he’s talking to the guys, kicking a couple empty cans offstage when he sees them out of the corner of his eye.
two guys, probably eddie’s age, maybe seniors. they’re flagging him over and looking around suspiciously and eddie thinks that if they’re interested in buying, this is an awful strange time to approach him about it.
he’s about to break the news, tell them he’s not selling tonight when one of them smiles and claps his shoulder when he squats down to their height.
“hey man, we don’t want you to get in trouble so we figured we’d tell you before someone else did.” he says with a nod. says it like eddie will catch on, like he’ll know what this is about.
he doesn’t.
he furrows his brows and looks at them, confused. “pardon?”
the second guy tugs at the hem of eddie’s shirt, darts his eyes around conspiratorially again. “you gotta turn this inside out of something, bro. pledges can’t wear letters out until initiation. vp rec will hand you your ass if he hears about it.”
the first guy is all but hissing in his ear in his effort to be quiet. “yeah AND the president’s here, man. we’re just looking out for you.”
eddie glances down at his own chest, realizing for the first time what shirt he grabbed off the back of steve’s desk chair this morning.
it’s not his that’s for sure. it’s definitely his boyfriend’s. big, bold greek letters across the chest. ink peeling off and threadbare around the waist. the arm holes more hole than shirt at this point.
he smiles back up at the guys, finally figuring out what this is about.
he huffs a quiet laugh and his knees crack when he stand back up. he hears gareth mindlessly drumming his sticks against his stool so he knows his break’s over. pulls his guitar back around to his chest and bows.
“well i appreciate your looking out for me, gentlemen. but… i think i’ll take my chances.”
he hears a scoff and a muffled “whatever, man” and a “not my fucking problem, i guess.”
but whatever he’s not paying any attention.
the mic squeals when he walks up to it and he’s got a thousand-watt smile and an apology on his lips immediately after.
“ah shit, sorry, sorry guys- my bad.” he backs up a step and squints against the harsh light, still searching for his boy. “before this next one, i’m looking for someone. baby? baby, where are you? can you come up here sweetheart?”
he looks toward the back of the crowd and sees steve’s bright smile and glassy eyes as he shoulders his way up front. sees how he stops to talk to a few people, say hi, dap up a couple of the guys. but he makes it up the front of the stage in record time given all that, regardless.
“there you are! missed you,” he says before he’s leaving his mic again and dropping down to his knees.
now he’s low enough that steve can tangle a hand in his unruly curls and tug him forward and down. can tug him close enough the he feels his breath against his lips when he whispers “will you play my favorite?”
he knows his own smile is bright as the sun.
“of course, baby.”
when steve kisses him, messy and like he’s putting on a show, eddie can’t help but overhear the “what?” and “oh that’s him?” coming from the side stage.
there are a lot of perks to being steve’s boyfriend. but that response is always one of his favorites.
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saulocept · 3 months
Text
a streetcar named desire
pairing: kenji sato/reader
rating: g
summary: “Do you love him?”
You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve in the entirety your life. You know that, of course, know it still, even now.
But now you’re not so sure.
notes: timeline's a little wonky here. set after the film, with a sprinkle of spoilers if you haven't yet watched :)
tags: pining. mostly.
Even now, you’re still not entirely sure how things had ended up this way. You’re not even supposed to be here, staying over at Kenji’s apartment – colder and emptier than his previous one – nursing your glass of wine, listening to him tell you stories about his career, littered, as always, with his theories of kaiju existence in America.
It’s supposed to be a quick visit, just to help him get a feel for his new home, and yet you’re still here, watching as the seconds tick by on the clock, taking a slow sip of your wine as you listen to him ramble on and about something. You’re not entirely paying attention now at this point, especially when he doesn’t sound too sober anymore. Even his topics have become a jumble now, jumping from one to another, without you having to say much.
At this point, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself, but he’s far too adorable to stop. And besides, when’s the last time the two of you have got together like this? As children, you’re both inseparable, talking about anything and everything – no secrets in between. But as adults, you’ve both been terribly busy. Him with his career, and you with yours. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d heard his voice outside of your television, blaring cool and confidently through your speakers, masking the fact that he’s anything but in real life.
With the news of your engagement reaching his ears, he’d promptly told you off through a phone call, refusing to answer any of your calls and ignoring all of your text messages, no matter how times you’d told him you’re sorry.
You know you’re supposed to tell him first; he’s your best friend, after all. Of course, you’re supposed to tell him everything first, every news, no matter how good or bad, long before anyone else. You’d both made that vow since you were children, and yet with everything piling up on your plate: wedding preparations, work demands, you’ve just never had enough time and gradually forgot about it.
At first, you’d been terribly afraid he wouldn’t talk to you again, so you’d flooded his inbox with a bunch of messages, each one an apology, varying the spelling just a tiny bit, so none of them would get flagged as a spam mail. You can’t tell if you’d succeeded; after all, he’d never replied to a single one of them.
At one point, you’d even entertained the idea of flying over to visit him, just to personally apologize, but your upcoming wedding had made that practically impossible.
And then before you knew it, there was a knock on your door, unbidden and unexpected. You’d expected it to be a robbery; in this part of the city, nothing’s impossible, after all, and it was two in the morning – anything could happen, but what you didn’t expect was to see a familiar face, slightly changed but still the same as you remember. Kenji Sato.
Kenji Sato, crashing over at your apartment at two in the morning, exhausted from the flight and slightly tipsy, because yours was the first address he could recall. Or at least, that’s what he’d told you. You’d never got quite the chance to ask him about that, especially when he’d promptly passed out on your couch after roughly a minute of conversation.
He’d left the morning after, quickly finding himself an apartment despite your protests that he could stay with you for as long as he needed.  
And now here you are. Enjoying a drink, conversing with him like there’s nothing’s changed between you. Like old times, when you’re still just college kids sneaking out late at night for impromptu study sessions, and for a midnight snack at the nearest McDonald’s.
But now you’re both older. And something’s changed between you, even if you’re not quite sure what it is yet.
“How long will you stay here for?” you ask, resting your chin against your palm, trying to make conversation. Absently, you watch the lights flicker against the glass table. A new one, not the one from his old apartment. You’ve half the heart to ask him about it: where’d it go, whether he’d sold it or left it be, but stop yourself at the last second. It’s not wise to pick at old wounds, no matter how curious you get. He’d tell you when he’s ready, you tell yourself,
He sits across from you, distant, farther than you’ve ever had him. Was he always this far from you before? Did you just never notice? “Just for the month,” he says, his eyes almost glimmering in the dim light. There’s something else in there – some meaning, some implication, hidden behind the shortness of his response. Just for the duration of your wedding. Nothing else.
“And then you’ll be off again soon.” It’s not a question, but rather a remark. When he’d left a year ago, you’d assumed it had been for good. A permanent decision, one that you would have no say in. He’d told you as much before, on the phone, just a night before his flight. He’d never told you what ultimately pushed him to do it, and you’d never had the heart to ask. Back then, the loss of his mother was a fresh wound, raw and bleeding. But now, it feels like a distant memory, an old scar that lingers about him, a miasma you can’t quite fix, and a ghost he can never get rid of.
“Mm-hm.” He shrugs, leans back against the couch, raising his glass his lips. He takes another sip of his wine. Not an agreement, but not quite the opposite. He looks away after a moment, stares blankly at the wall, lets the silence stretch between you. You follow his gaze, note the lack of pictures, portraits. His old apartment had been more vibrant, colorful, littered with a thousand photos, his childhood trophies arranged in a neat row, dusted and polished every single day. Well taken care of, no doubt by his mother.
And yet this one’s emptier. Duller, more lifeless. Granted, it’s a new apartment, and you’re still helping him arrange his stuff, but it still doesn’t change the overall vibe of the place.
“Are you still mad at me?” you ask all of a sudden, breaking the silence between you. You lean forward, placing your empty wine glass back on the table, staring at him in earnest, watching his face for some kind of reaction. You can’t help but be curious; he seems different somehow, more sullen, melancholic, and you’re not sure why. Is there something he’s not telling you?
He snorts, looks up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing about the corners of his. Familiar, and yet not quite the same. “You’re my best friend. Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because you’re the last to hear about my engagement?”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he says, waves his hand dismissively like it’s no big deal, like he didn’t just ignore your texts for a whole week. “I’m busy, you’re busy. We both have stuff to deal with. I get it. It’s all part of life.”
“And yet you’re still childish enough to believe in all those kaiju stuff.” You don’t mean to say it, not really. You know how much he believes in those; even when you were both children, he’d told you all kinds of stories, sketching an incomprehensible doodle at the back of your math notebook when it’s clear you couldn’t understand a word he’s saying.
He narrows his eyes at you, looking almost annoyed. “You want me to ignore you for a week straight again?” There’s no real edge to his voice, there never is, just a playful sharpness that has you biting the inside of your cheek in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
“I’m sorry,” you say, playing along, reaching for your glass and then the bottle of wine, filling your glass just halfway before placing the bottle back on the table. “Please don’t back out of the wedding. You know you’re the only one I can trust there.”
“Maybe I will,” he says, almost tauntingly. His voice drops, grows into a whisper, more serious. “You know I’ve never liked that fiancé of yours.”
You know that, of course. He’s never kept that a secret from you; even back when you and your fiancé had started dating, Kenji’s never failed to voice his disapproval out loud, as though he could somehow get you to change your mind before things are too late. You’ve almost lost count how many times he’d talked shit about him to your face, making fun of everything: from his name (“Sylvester. Really?”); to the way he stands (like he’s one minute away from constipating); to the way he dresses (like his grandmother’s wallpaper).
You shake your head, sigh, take another sip of your drink. “We’re about to get married soon, you know. You can’t just talk shit about him like before.”
“You can still back out now.” He sounds serious, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. You pause, look up at him, searching his face for something. His eyes are dark, his expression opaque. You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, or what he’s feeling, but all you know is that he’s serious about this.
“But I—” you begin, stopping as soon as you realize you’re not entirely sure what you’re going to say. But I love him. It feels like an instinctive response, a kneejerk reaction rather than the truth, something you’re supposed to say instead of something you actually mean. You stare at him for a long time, mouth agape, suddenly at a loss for words.
He doesn’t wait for you to finish, find the right words. “Do you love him?”
You don’t know, not really. Love feels like a foreign word to you now, a distant emotion you’ve long since forgot about. You’re not entirely sure if you love him; Sylvester’s a good man, a good boyfriend – he never forgets the important dates, the important details. He’s caring and considerate, and he’s more than you could ever deserve. You know that, of course, know it still, even now. At the time, it had been enough.
But now, you’re not so sure. You’ve never really sat down and thought if you truly loved him. You’ve never really had enough time, and confronting the truth of the matter seems more than you bargain for. You’re comfortable with him, yes, but is that enough to call it love?
When he’d knelt down and proposed to you in front of an audience you never quite felt comfortable with, you just said yes. Automatically, instinctively, mostly because that’s what anyone in your position would say. But love’s never been part of the equation. Not when it comes to him, to this.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice jolting you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, he raises his glass to his lips, downs it all in one go. Quickly, he grabs the bottle from the table, fills his glass to the brim, the liquid nearly overflowing. “You know I’m not trying to ruin your wedding.”
“I know.”
He brings his glass closer to yours, gives you a tentative smile. “Peace?”
“Peace.”
You clink your glass to his, then, following his example, you down the liquid in one go.
-
This is a bad idea, objectively so. At the back of your mind, you’re well aware of how terrible it is to stay longer in his apartment, getting drunk out of your mind. You have a meeting in a few hours with your boss and it wouldn’t do well for you to arrive at work with a hungover, or slightly drunk and nursing a headache.
But you can’t help it. And you can never say no to him.
You should’ve stopped after a few glasses. You’ve told yourself you’ll stop after the third one, but for some reason, you’re still here, taking a languid sip of your drink, cringing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. You’re not even sure what you’re drinking now at this point. Vaguely, you’re aware that you’ve emptied all the wine you had a few hours ago, and now you’re drinking something else. Something darker, bitter.
Stronger too, from the looks of it, as evidenced from the buzzing in your head.
Not that Kenji’s faring any better. If anything, he seems even drunker than before, more than you even. He’s lying down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his glass sitting innocently beside him, nearly empty. He’s always been worse at holding his alcohol than you are – having no coach who tells you what you should and shouldn’t do definitely helps with the tolerance, though it’s not a feat you can brag at parties.
“So,” he begins, hiccupping a little, pointing at something you can’t quite see. Slowly, he turns to look at you, raising his head so he can look at you. “You believe in kaiju?”
“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. There’s a buzzing in your head, an incoming headache. Maybe you’re getting older and reaching your limit. Or maybe you’re just losing your touch. You sit up straighter, gently rubbing your temples, trying to ease the feeling. “Not real. Didn’t you watch the documentary with me before? The one where they debunked it?”
“What if…” he begins, pauses, hiccupping once more. “What if I told you they’re real?”
You raise an eyebrow, resting your chin against your palm as you stare down at him, watching him in amusement. “And you got proof of that, mister?”
“Yep.” Quickly, he stands up on the floor, swaying a little from side to side. He wobbles to his feet, and he only manages to take a few steps before he’s stumbling about, losing his balance in the process and falling face-first on the floor. With a laugh, you stand up from your seat, helping him up and gently guiding him back into the couch, placing him on the empty space beside you.
“Come on,” you say, laughing. “You’re clearly drunk.”
“Not drunk,” he says, shaking his head. He shifts a little, lays his head on your lap, his feet dangling at the edge of the couch. He stares up at you, his eyes hazy and unfocused, absently taking you in.
You hum under your breath, smiling at him. “Hi.”
He’s quiet, doesn’t say anything. Slowly, he reaches out, touches your cheek. He’s a little clumsy this time; more than a few times, he’s nearly poked your eye out, but there’s a practiced gentleness behind his touch, a muscle memory he can’t quite forget even when his mind is slowed by the alcohol. His palm is rough, callused, no doubt from years of practice, training, littered with scars you’re not quite sure where he got. You take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together, marveling at how perfectly your hands fit even after all these years.
He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Stop that.”
“What?” you ask, feigning innocence, just to poke fun at him, though you still don’t let go of his hand, enjoying the warmth of his hand against yours. “You’re the one who touched me first.”
He shakes his head, ignores your remark, frees his hand from your grip, lets it rest against his stomach. “I’ve seen kaiju before,” he says, his voice growing softer, quieter.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, eyebrows furrowing a little in thought. “Uh. Huge?”
“Like in the movies?”
He rolls his eyes, looking almost offended. “Those movies suck.”
“You’re the one who told me to watch them!”
“Well, I’m telling you now: they suck.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “What do you mean they suck? You loved them when we were kids!”
“I’m not a kid now, am I?”
“That hasn’t stopped you from acting like one.”
“Very funny.” He turns to glare at you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest not to laugh. A moment of silence settles between you: warmer this time, more comfortable. Familiar. As if all that gap between you has suddenly disappeared, leaving nothing but this old familiarity behind. This is how it’s always been between you, isn’t it?
You’ve missed this, more than you could even think of. You’ve almost forgot how it feels like: the casualty of his affection, the warmth of his touch. How you fit perfectly together, like complementary puzzle pieces. Like two halves of the same soul.
Instinctively, you lean in, reaching out to brush a stray strand away from his face. This close, you could see every little detail on his face: the dark circles beneath his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows. The fullness of his lips. How soft they are from this distance.
You’re not sure what possessed you to do it, but you’re doing it long before you could think twice. Curiously, you run a finger along his lower lip, gently tracing the outline; it’s a little chapped, though nothing too bad. Maybe you should buy him a chapstick as a present?
Just as quickly as that thought crosses your mind, you pull back, jolting your hand away from him as though you’ve been burned. He stares at you, his eyes dark, his expression suddenly unreadable. You bite your lip, looking almost ashamed. “Sorry—”
He doesn’t let you finish. Without warning, he reaches out, grips your wrist with one hand, pulling you just the slightest bit closer. This time, he meets your gaze head-on. “Don’t marry him.”
“I—what?” you ask, blinking at him a few times, looking a little uncertain. Gently, you try to shake your hand free from his grip. He lets you go easily enough, and you’re not entirely sure why it leaves you feeling cold, empty. “Ken, are you okay?”
He doesn’t answer your question, doesn’t say anything for a long time, his expression still as opaque as ever, unreadable. You stare back at him, eyebrows furrowing a little in concern. “You’re not sick, are you?” you ask, frowning; slowly, you lean in, placing your hand against his forehead, trying to get a feel for his temperature.
He’s a little warm beneath your touch, though you can’t quite tell if it’s from a fever or it’s simply from the alcohol. You sigh, shaking your head, staring at him worriedly. “I told you drinking’s a bad idea.”
He snorts, as though in amusement, then leans away from your touch. “You know what I wish for every night?” he asks, his voice growing softer, quieter that you have to lean close to hear.
“What?”
“For that fiancé of yours to get eaten by a kaiju.”
A nervous laugh escapes you, forced and awkward. “Come on, Ken,” you say, poking him a little at the cheek, trying to catch his attention. “You know that’s a childish thing to say. I know you never liked him, but you can’t really wish for that.”
“Can’t I?” He meets your eyes then, his expression serious. He doesn’t seem drunk this time, only honest.
“Of course not,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re supposed to wish us well, you know. And be happy about it.”
“He doesn’t deserve you.” He sounds almost sulky now, childishly so, like a kid who hasn’t been given a candy. You’d laugh at the sight if it isn’t so ridiculous.
“Are you serious?” you ask, voice growing louder, taking on a higher-pitch. You rub your temples soothingly with the pads of your fingers, trying to soothe the incoming headache. “Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean—”
He frowns, cuts you off before you can say the rest of your words. “You don’t understand.”
You give him a level look. “Then make me understand.”
“I—” he begins, stops. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops, hesitating. With a sigh, he shakes his head, looks away. “Never mind,” he says, and his voice is colder now, unfamiliar. He glances at the clock, at the flashing red numbers on the screen. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”
And just like that, the veil is back once more, the distance between you growing farther and farther. Slowly, you stand up from the couch, untangling yourself from him in the process. A hollow feeling follows you afterward, lingers around you as you stumble about in his apartment, trying to find your belongings: your coat hanging on the makeshift rack at the door; your shoes at the doorway.
Quietly, you slip out of his apartment, locking the door behind you, teeth chattering from the cold wind that breezes past you. By the time morning comes around, he’ll forget about this – hopefully – and everything will be alright between you. But for now, you’ll go back to your apartment, grab a bottle of wine from the shelf, and drink yourself to oblivion.
At least until you manage to stop thinking about everything.
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newtonsheffield · 1 month
Note
Anthony also thinks he deserves some credit for waiting nearly four whole months to start dating Kate!
Look here’s what happened from Anthony’s POV. On Anthony’s least Favourite day of the year, a hot woman sat down next to Anthony in a bar and for a few hours he forgot what a colossal fucking disappointment he way to just about everyone. Because her eyes shone at him and she laughed while she teased him a little about his posh middle name. And he’s thought about her pretty fondly from the moment he wanted to run after her when they agreed not to see one another again as they shook hands at breakfast in the hotel lobby.
He’s thought about trying to find her over the years but all he knows is she’s a solicitor who just got a promotion, her Father also died a few years ago, she has a scar on his leg from riding a bike as a kid and she laughed in disbelief when he nudged her thighs apart for the third time and buried his head between them.
“Who the fuck are you?” She’d laughed, her fingernails scratching his scalp in a way that had his spine shivering already.
“The perfect man, I guess.” He’d winked at her, rebelling in her noise of disgust that quickly changed to something very different.
That’s not a lot to go on. You can’t just start calling law firms and asking if they have a hot junior partner working there actually. It raises red flags.
And suddenly, when you least expect it she shows up at your work. And she looks just as beautiful as you remember. And you’re flirting very hard. You’re about to ask her to dinner when she clears her throat and says
“I have a son, actually now.”
Anthony swallowed, “Oh! Amazing, congratulations.”
“He’s um… god this is so uncomfortable but he’ll be… he’ll be three soon.”
And suddenly everything is different.
Anthony has a son. They share a son. The most perfect kid Anthony’s ever met, a completely unbiased opinion, by the way. He’s smart, and adorable, and sweet and Anthony is fascinated by everything he does. And then there’s Kate. And Kate’s problematic because she’s every bit as fucking fantastic as Anthony suspected she was when they first met. She’s funny, and she teases him, and she’s smart as fuck as Anthony actually did get a little aroused when he arrived at her work early and heard her on the phone with an opposing counsel.
So yeah. He actually does think he deserves a bit of credit for not standing outside the office of the mother of his child with a sign that says I AM BEGGING FOR ONE SINGLE CHANCE! The day after they met again
And not least because she showed up at his office looking like this
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He’s only human! He waited four whole months! Hercules couldn’t have waited that fucking long for a date with Kate Sharma!
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aphroditeinthesea · 6 months
Note
will solace x chaotic daughter of dionysus reader where he's the responsible one thats like "don't do that. you'll die" and reader's like "yeah whatever" ?
" long story short i survived "
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will solace x reader ☀️
three times when y/n was crazy and three times when will loved her anyway
tw none
⋆ ˚。 ⋆ 𖤓 ⋆ ˚。 ⋆
“Funny meeting you here,” was all Will heard as he walked past a room in the infirmary. He stopped in his tracks and peered into the room. There, lying on a bed, was his girlfriend.
“Y/N,” he spoke as he entered the room, “what happened?” Concern filled his voice, but at the same time, he couldn't be too worried. After all, her winding up in the infirmary was a common occurrence.
“Silly story actually, you're gonna laugh,” she prefaced, “so, you know how there’s like archery practice?”
He nodded along, “I pretty much know the concept.”
“Good, that's good,” she continued, “so there was this really crazy looking bug like you should've seen it, and then-”
“Please don't say what I think you're about to say.”
She aggressively nodded, “if you think I’m about to say that I accidentally walked into the middle of an archery practice and got shot in the foot, then I’ll just say quiet.”
“Y/N,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “can you go one day without almost dying?”
“Is that rhetorical? Because I don't appreciate that, Will Solace.”
He laughed, he leaned closer to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I’d just like to not be worried about you 25/8.”
“Twenty-five eight, really?”
“Will!” Someone yelled from the hall.
“Coming!” He called back before turning back to the girl, “I love you, don't die,” he quickly kissed her before rushing out of the room.
It was late at night, not even two days later, that y/n ran into cabin seven, slamming the door behind her. Several of Apollo’s children gave her strange looks, except for Will, who only looked confused.
“Y/N?”
She smiled, making her way over to him, “Willy!”
“Willy?” He questioned with a laugh.
She sat on his freshly made bed, “I need to stay in your cabin tonight.”
“As fun as getting in trouble for you sounds,” he began, sitting beside her, “can you at least tell me why?”
“Funny story-”
“Is it actually though?”
She bit her lip and looked away, “for spectators, not victims,” she answered, “basically, Annabeth let me borrow this book and I forgot about it and then I accidentally spilled orange juice all over it, so I left iron the doorstep of the Athena cabin and I’m gonna wait until she notices, where then she will ultimately try to kill me dead.”
“Rather than kill you alive?” One of his siblings interjected.
“Kill you alive blah blah,” y/n muttered in a mocking voice.
Will chuckled, placing a comforting hand on her back, “you can stay. Only because I’m also scared of Annabeth.”
She pressed a kiss to his lips, "you're the best.”
Another day, during Capture the Flag, y/n had decided to climb a tree, being too tired to actually participate in the game. However, she hadn't actually put into consideration how she was going to get down.
“Y/N?” she heard the all too familiar voice from the ground.
She looked down to find Will standing with his sister, Kayla. “Hey, sweetheart. Hi, Kayla,” she waved down.
“What are you doing?” Kayla called up.
“It’s a funny story actually-”
“I really don’t think it’s gonna be,” Will mentioned.
Y/N huffed, “I’m about to come down, one second,” she stood on the branch, about to jump down.
“Y/N, Baby,” He yelled, “as a doctor, I can tell you the chances of you not breaking a bone are close to none.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.”
“That actually makes it worse, y/n.”
She prepared herself to jump down despite the yell of the two children of Apollo and several other campers who had come over to watch the spectacle. She took a deep breath and leaped off of the branch.
You could think that this was one of those things where she jumped and landed in Will’s arms and like rode into the sunset or whatever. It kinda was like that actually, except might have landed on Will’s arm instead. The left one specifically.
“I guess you could say you fell for me,” she giggled, beginning to stand up. She grabbed his hand to help him up too.
“I’m actually surprised we’re both still alive.”
“I told you it would be fine, you worry too much, love.”
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jar-of-ectoplasm · 3 months
Text
beach day for team RED
kinda like my la squadra headcanons i made eons ago about the same thing, enjoy
less of an x reader thing and more like team bonding headcanons
-the group beach volleyball games get crazy. people are hurt, bystanders are in shock, scout lost a tooth, but it's all in good fun probably
-pyro is in full scuba gear, hundreds of feet under the surface of the water, occasionally coming back up with color aquatic life they probably shouldn't be touching just to show everybody
-solider and demo are trying to build the tallest sand "castle" they can (it is in no way a castle, it's just a big mound), but when they get bored of that they take turns catching and tossing scout into the ocean
-spy is tanning but is also inadvertently giving himself the ugliest tan-lines in the world. he forgot to take the balaclava off and nobody will tell him because they think it's hilarious
-we all know engineer is workin that grill like he was born to do it 🙄 but he'll also take a moment to go lookin at critters when the tide recedes
-sniper is making friends with the seagulls. he is also sprinkling breadcrumbs around scout for said seagulls to harass. he does go take a look at whatever sea creature pyro surfaces with and consistently asks if they can cook it for the laughs
-poor scout is getting bullied almost the whole time. between the seagulls and the surprise swimming lessons from demo and soldier, he's finding it a little hard to fully enjoy himself. teaming up with his assailants to bury spy in the sand makes it all worth it, though
-heavy is out swimming with the dolphins. he rarely gets to appreciate the beauty of nature (that isn't in the desert), both on the battlefield and in his home country, so he allows himself to do bask in it every chance he gets. Big fan of tide-pooling and will happily join pyro or engineer to ogle at a little crab or sea slug
-medic is as far away from everyone else as possible. he already has to deal with them 24/7, he'd like his vacation time to be solo. he's done playing doctor for them, so if someone needs anything they can flag down a lifeguard; medic will be enjoying himself 5 miles down the shoreline
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Can u give me ur full thoughts on Alex? I feel like a lot of the shit he gets is unjustified. Yeah he says some sus things to the farmer (no matter what gender you are!) but that's only because he's horribly mislead. The man just doesn't know any better. I mean think about it. Abused and neglected, lacking good male role models, and he's got no friends in town except for maybe Haley and you know how she is. If she was told "you're probably not into sports" she'd say "ew no" because sports would get her all dirty.
I always saw him as just a loner-type guy who doesn't know how to talk to people. Spent too much time trying to develop his cringe ass macho man persona that he forgot to develop social skills. I don't think that makes him a bad person though. I could honestly talk for hours about how toxic masculinity is a monster that preys on young boys and eats them alive if they're not careful. But even with societal pressure being so intense, growth is possible. Alex is still a massive sweetie in my eyes. A big dumb doofus who loves his granny and wants to lift heavy things just to impress you.
I would love your thoughts though!!
#1 Alex fan anon ⚡️
Yeah. That's basically more or less my thoughts😅
It honestly depends on what you experience that can greatly color Alex's character
This might be one of my more controversial takes
(right next to being a Clint apologist💀)
but stick with me here-
If you grow up in a similar environment to most guys, you can understand why Alex is the way they are. It's not exactly easy to be soft or mindful when you have a harsh environment around you. Many guys end up coping with repressed thoughts and feelings in unique ways to soothe themselves. I think Alex's was sports. (Idk just a hunch) but it often leads to a lot of blind spots or misunderstandings of the world.
I've seen a lot of people like Alex and I've had a couple of friends in high school like that too! And I can tell you... yeah... it comes from SOMEWHERE, A lot of them ain't doing so great mentally.
Heck, I do that! Whenever I get uncomfortable with a situation or feelings I don't like, I make jokes to ease my brain. Releses a little serotonin ya know what I mean?
Not all coping mechanisms are bad tho, we kinda have our own form of bond and support that from the outside looks cold and uninviting but I promise you, we would die for our brothers. (plus the cold uninviting part is just a front)
"I know the homie told us to KYS over Roblox but he bought the group Freebirds during the gym session so it's all good!"/j
I can't say much from the other perspective but I would assume they would see Alex as a HUGE BIG RED flag and someone potentially dangerous or someone who brings back bad memories which is why he is dunked on so much. Even if they don't mean it, they have a higher chance of hurting people.
I don't think Alex is THAT type of character at all, I think he has good intentions but as you said "no social skills". I can see why others would interpret that way though.
It's funny that you mention how Alex doesn't have many female role models cuz... you have
Haley- Lazy and super not into dirt.
His mom- got sick and DIED.
Granny Evelyn- frail weak old woman who makes cookies and tends to flowers.
Those are not exactly SUPER GREAT examples of women who like sports.
Personally, I get why people say that playing a male farmer is better for Alex's story arc along with confronting George about the whole being gay thing but I think the female farmer has elements that I don't think are acknowledged much.
From my perspective anyway, I think a Fem farmer shows Alex a better example of women and what they can do VS grandma, dead mom, and Haley... along with learning boundaries and how better cope with repressed feelings and MAYBE-
-even address the fear of the farmer DYING of a sickness just like his mom or the intrusive thoughts of believing he'll end up like his father making him overprotective and paranoid about the farmers well being...
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but you can ignore that...
Idk man, that's just the way I view it. You either like Alex or you don't :/
I ain't saying anyone's wrong to feel the way they do
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yuri-is-online · 1 year
Note
hi, there! :D I hope to be on time for the event can I request :
(Finding a confession letter in your locker) With Silver, Jade and Deuce? Plz
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22. Finding a confession letter in your locker
Hi hi you are very much on time of course you can (^ワ^)
Also just letting you know here, I did get your other request and do not mind answering it at all (though i am going to post some other ones first), in my og post I mentioned the prompts were limited by ask, so you submitted everything correctly, don't worry!
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, fluff, Jade is a red flag as usual. Check out the rest of the event requests here.
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Silver
There is an unfairly pretty looking man asleep in front of the gym lockers, face down, arms at his side, but with the light still hitting his hair just right way to make him look like he has a halo. You know that Silver won't be upset if you try to wake him, but as you kneel to do so, the slight creak of an unkempt hinge draws your attention up from your sleeping senior to your own slightly open locker.
Weird, you could have sworn you locked it at the end of class.
"Silver?" You decide to try calling out to him while you examine your locker for any sign of tampering beyond the obvious. "You good down there?" Nothing seems to have been taken, but something has been left: a letter. Gingerly, you remove and settle yourself on the floor next to Silver, gently shaking him as you open it.
Yuu,
I'm afraid that if I try to simply say to you how I feel, I won't be able to fully convey just how grateful I am to have met you, just how much you mean to me. But I want to try and give you a confession you deserve so please, meet me in the courtyard after your classes. I promise to say the words to you then.
-Silver
"I wasn't supposed to still be here when you read that." A muffled voice draws your attention back to Silver, who slowly pushes himself up to look into your eyes. "But since I am, I like you prefect." The words are simple, but the sincerity of his gaze adds the weight he was so afraid of missing.
Jade
You were screwed. The instant you saw the condition of the letter inside that lavender envelope you knew it was never meant to be seen, least of all by the person it was addressed to. The paper was hastily torn from a composition book, crumpled and lightly stained with what you assume from the scent is tea. No, you can't really picture someone as collected as Jade allowing the messy parts of his thoughts to be seen
You are a mystery I want to unravel
I never get tired of your voice
I want to be the first person they think of in the morning and the last thing they imagine at night. When they are alone I want them to long to return to my side, when someone hurts them I want to be the one who repays their enemies in kind. There is a word for these emotions, something that's as wonderfully unpredictable as it is painful-
A head rests on your shoulder, two strong arms pull you into an embrace that prevents you from seeing his face as a deep sigh tickles your ear, reciting from memory the destroyed portion of the letter-
"That word is love, I am in love with Yuu." Jade smiles into your neck as you shudder in surprise. "Since you are not attempting to run away, can I assume I have something of a chance?"
Deuce
"Is it just me or is Juice acting weird today?" Ace asks, slacking off away from Vargas's watchful eyes behind you and Grim. Not that you haven't noticed, but now that Ace mentions it- "I mean he's sneaking out of class, isn't PE the one he's actually good at?" You both look pointedly towards the lockers Deuce is not so sneakily heading towards with concern.
"Um, I'll be right back." You try to hide your concern but the judgmental faces that see you off suggest you aren't exactly successful. Deuce's broad shoulders disappear into the hallway and you attempt to calmly follow. Maybe he's sick? Or has forgot something? You run through so many scenarios that you fail to pay attention to where you are going and walk right into your target's back.
"Prefect!" Deuce jumps and you fluster, both of you look away from each other to the locker Duece had been standing in front of. "I'm sorry." He looks so embarrassed. You reach to open your locker as Deuce continues. "I really am sorry, it's just I thought really hard about the right way to confess but we have almost every class together..." Sure enough there's a letter sat neatly on top of your things, sealed with a neat spade sticker that leaves little doubt about who it's from.
"Technically you just did." You laugh and bring the letter close to your heart. "Meet me at Ramshackle after school."
"Why?" He asks, clearly nervous.
"Well you wanted to properly confess right? So let me properly answer." Technically the smile on your face already does.
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waklman · 1 year
Note
Hi Tilly! So, I’m living by myself for the first time and my dishwasher just flooded my apartment 🫠I’m fine😀, really… 😭. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe write something with Bradley and babybear 🥺. They are my comfort characters! love ya ❤️
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summary: you and bradley go out for a late night snack or bf! bradley who stands there in silence x gf! who orders food for them both.
warnings: mentions of strict dieting, one or two suggestive jokes. fluff, 18+ blog.
note: helpp the way that kind of made me laugh. as a fellow girlie who also gets herself in trouble when left alone, i hope your floors are okay! excuse the quality as writers block has me by the neck
something 'bout you masterlist.
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It’s not often that Bradley dines out. He’ll indulge in some of Penny’s greasy bar snacks once in a while—nothing more than that.
With the one time he did slack off, it wasn’t exactly easy to get back to his original physique. In fact, Bradley even found himself struggling to keep up with the likes of Hangman at one point.
And that was just the wake up call he needed to finally get back on track. 
Since then, he’s made sure to double down on his efforts to stay in shape, scarfing down his protein packed, repetitive, plain meals. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit tasking, but it's nothing Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t put up with. And when Bradley was committed towards something, he was all in. 
But what he forgot to include in his ‘fool proof’ plan to remain loyal to his diet, was his stubborn girlfriend who loves to spoil him rotten. Which is why he's finding it difficult to swallow down his food tonight.
The usual pre-prepped dinner has never tasted so bland and downright dry, especially when you’re planted in front of him with that tablet in your hands.
For the past thirty minutes, Bradley has been subjected to a screening of strangers eating a variety of foods—from huge portions of instant noodles—to enormous crab legs being dipped in buckets of cheese. 
He’s seen it all. 
“Give in,” you whisper, fingers tightly curled around the edges of the ipad, though, you’re careful enough to not block the screen itself.
Across the rounded table he’s sat in, you’re standing there like you’re getting paid to show him a compilation of mukbang videos. You’d put the billboards lined up on the nearby highways to shame. 
“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head firmly. 
Stabbing his fork into another piece of boiled chicken, Bradley stuffs it into his mouth in defiance. He refuses to wave the white flag, not when he’s worked so hard to finally restrain himself.
Maverick would have to come twirling into the living-room in ballerina-get up for him to take it as a sign to treat himself to a cheat meal. 
At his clear refusal to give in, your head peeks out, just so slightly, behind the thirteen inch screen, eyes narrowed with fiery determination igniting them.
“Mcdonalds. Wendys. Burger King. In and Out,” you repeatedly chant, legs starting to tremble under the strain of standing up for so long. 
Bradley only flares his nostrils, a sign that he is not backing down either.
In any other scenario, his knees would’ve immediately buckled after one plea from you. But right now, he knows you’d stuff his face with junk—that he’s been successfully cutting out for months, if you were given the okay from him.
Though, he does have to admit, he’s finding it hard to keep a stern face because your legs look like they’re about to completely give out. Not wanting to keep you up any longer, Bradley tunes out your endless chant of fast food chains—which somehow turns into a catchy song, as he shovels more strips of chicken in his mouth.
Maybe if he finishes his dinner faster, he could coax you onto the couch to watch more Ryan Gosling movies. 
Following your gut feeling, you lift a finger to the front of the screen, tapping repeatedly on the skip button—until it felt right. After spamming your pointer just a few times, you lift the index off the glass, letting it play at a random point in the compilation.
Bradley’s tongue prods his cheek, straight face starting to falter. “Baby it’s not gonna work. Please just sit dow—” 
His mouth immediately clamps shut, throat moving as he swallows back a wad of drool pooling inside his mouth. The boring dinner under him is long forgotten. 
Noticing his dazed state, you lower the screen to probe what finally caught his attention. Bradley’s eyes practically trails the movement of the tablet, not looking away for a second.
A platter of juicy burgers leaking oil and mountains of fries is what breaks him. 
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“And he’ll have the double bacon-burger, two large fries, one coke and—” 
The teenage boy behind the register blinks in disbelief, watching the giant man in front of him lean down towards his girlfriend, shyly whispering in her ear. 
Bradley draws back again, standing a head taller than you with his arms crossed around your front, glassy eyes roaming the lit-up menu stretched above the line of registers. 
“Oh, can we actually make that a root beer? Also I’m really sorry, but can you remove the tomatoes from the burger as well?” You request, giving Bradley comforting strokes on the forearm he has slung over your chest.
“Yes, Ma’m I can…I can do that for you,” the worker clears his throat, editing the order on the screen, customer service voice practically cracking. 
When you two first walked in, with matching pajama pants, the fast food employee assumed he was dealing with a pair of psychos from the streets.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he’d always get one or two unsettling visitors in the duration of his night shift. But they’d always prowl inside the joint by themselves—they never had company—nor have they ever teamed up on him before. Briefly, he considered hovering his hand over the dusty emergency button directly under the counter. 
But to his surprise, you two were just a relatively normal couple with a craving for burgers at midnight. 
“Alrighty, your total comes out to 18.50,” he reads, eyes nervously darting between the two of you. “...Will that be cash or card?”
Almost in a race with each other, you both drop the lovely couple act, digging in your own pajama pants for your wallets. The anxious worker behind the counter starts taking a careful step back, afraid you two were going to pull out a weapon on him all of a sudden. God, he shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily. 
He stills as you beat Bradley to it, holding out a credit card between your fingers, excitedly pointing it towards him. 
Bradley begins to panic, patting down his empty pockets. “Babybear, where the fuck is my wallet?” He tilts his head down at you, a knowing look settling on his face. 
As the credit card is taken from you, your mouth stretches into a wide smile, and you crane your neck backwards to look at him. “I tossed it in the back of the car when you weren’t looking,” you gleam in satisfaction.
Bradley sighs in disbelief, no wonder you were so clingy in the car. 
“Is that why you were crawlin’ all over me during all the stop lights?” 
“Gimme a kiss,” you suddenly demand, cutting him off. 
Bradley blinks at your puckered lips.
It practically pulls him into a trance, because he’s already dipping his head down to give you a quick peck. In a strange way, it’s almost a perfect recreation of that upside-down spider man kiss scene. 
Ultimately, he decides to keep the comparison to himself. If he were to mention it, you’d most likely start gushing about another movie actor.
He’s already heard enough of Ryan Gosling lately.
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“I know you can open your mouth bigger than that,” you frown in his lap, readjusting the bundle of fries between your fingers. 
The buckle of his undone seatbelt hits your ankle when you wriggle to find a comfortable position next.
Bradley licks the ketchup off his lip. “Yeah, you would know,” he teases, giving your butt a quick squeeze, sleazy look on his face. 
Somehow, he’s the same person who was barely able to order food for himself inside the burger joint that’s currently behind his parked Bronco.
Receiving a silent look of disapproval from you, he finally clears his throat. 
“Okay, someone didn’t find that funny,” he mumbles, stretching his mouth wider for you.
“A little more. Ahhh,” you sing, encouraging him to take the fistful of french fries. Under you, Bradley nearly chokes when you stuff one more in his mouth, slamming his jaw shut with finality. 
“I like when your mouth is full. Less talking,” you jut your chin at him, all too pleased with the lapse of silence. 
Bradley stills his chewing, raising a brow at you. 
“Ugh! Stop it. Keep chewing those fries,” you complain, reaching for the large root beer resting on the dashboard behind you.
Bradley grins, mouth full of food, holding you steady when you twist your middle to grab the drink. 
Swallowing down a large ball of potato, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw, taking a long sip from the drink cradled between your hands. 
“Are you full?” You question, watching him lean back after finishing off the remains of the beverage. You decide to set the empty cup into the driver's seat for now. 
“Feeling so full, baby,” he groans, shutting his eyes as if it’ll help him digest it faster. 
Pursing your lips to hold back a laugh, you place a suggestive hand over his stomach. “Yeah? Feel it all in your tummy,” your voice drops to a lower register, mimicking his dirty talk from the other day. 
His eyes snap open, immediately.
The cramped Bronco, littered in empty paper bags and greasy wrapping paper jostles as he rushes to sit up tall. “You said no more jokes,” he scoffs, pinching your sides. What you said was worse than everything else he spat out tonight. 
“Hey,” you whine, scratching his bloated stomach with your nails. “Don’t act all mad big guy. I know you’re about to give in anyways,” you giggle. 
Bradley traces his teeth with his tongue, failing to conceal his growing smile. Because you’re right.
If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be thirty minutes away from home, favorite person in his lap and favorite cheat meal in his stomach.
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caraphernellie · 1 year
Text
truly, madly, deeply // a.a.
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there was nothing you loved more than your job. you were so passionate about it - you loved books so dearly. you loved reading, spreading knowledge, and helping others.
being a librarian was the perfect job. it was a quiet environment and it combined many of the things you loved. it didn’t matter whether you were working behind the scenes cataloguing books, or if you were at the front desk working circulation, or if you were simply shelving books into their correct spaces - you loved it. it was stress free, and the conversations you got to have with customers were pleasant and made you excited.
one particularly chilly and rainy autumn morning, you were working circulation when a very pretty stranger walked up to you. you’d not seen her before, but you knew she must be a regular given the way she immediately placed down both the book and her library card gently before you.
you smiled sweetly at her, trying not to tremble as you picked up her book to scan. she was so pretty you seemed to be getting nervous.
she was all muscle and height, but she didn’t act that way. she was so gentle to you.
eyeing the cover of the book as you turned it over to scan, you spoke up. “i’ve not read this one yet. it’s on my reading list though.”
it was a sapphic novel, and you knew you had to say something - it was the perfect way to try and hint that you liked girls. it was not always obvious to people so you had to take any chance you had.
she laughed politely as you scanned her card, and you took note of her name. abigail anderson.
“it’s been on my list for a while, too,” she admitted, scratching her neck. you almost fell apart over her voice alone - you didn’t know if it was her voice in general, or the way she tried to speak lowly as to not disturb other patrons in the library.
you nodded and passed back her book and card. “they’re all yours until next week. i guess you’ll have to tell me what you thought of the book. an honest review might motivate me to move it up on my list.”
she looked you up and down once more, taking the book from your hands.
“i guess i will, then.”
and with what happened next, you felt your eyes practically turn into love hearts. it was so small, but said so much.
she put the book into a fucking book pouch.
most people wouldn’t think twice about it- but people who take care of their books are huge, huge green flags.
especially when you work a job where you see hundreds of people shove a book into their bag or even drop the book on the floor before even walking out of the building.
with rain gently spattering the windows of the library you glanced at her one last time for the day. if you had self restraint, that is.
“have a good day.”
“you too,” she replied, a pleasant smile on her face.
as she walked out of earshot, suddenly your coworker beside you broke down into quiet giggles.
“you should see how red you are!” they quietly laughed, pointing at your cheeks. “and what a great attempt at flirting that was!”
your face burned in embarrassment as you gasped. “shut up, ezra. she was… she was totally digging it, right?”
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of course, for the entire week that pretty stranger had not left your mind. if anything, she consumed every little space in your mind. you were up pacing at two in the morning some nights, hoping it really was the start of something special, or if it was just another dumb, unrealistic dream your imagination had come up with.
some might say romanticising every part of your life is a blessing, or a beautiful quality to have. but to you, it was just something that came with being a bookworm, your mind filling with cliches and maladaptive thoughts over everything until you went insane.
it was exhausting.
ezra hadn’t forgot, either. they teased you everyday, letting you know that it was a day closer to when you would see abby again.
ezra also knew a bit more about abby than you did, as they worked the circulation desk more than you did on the days abby would come in, and they didn’t hesitate to tell you what would be very helpful information.
abigail, or abby, as she preferred, which ezra had told you, came in weekly to borrow and return primarily classics and sapphic lit.
she was perfect. probably the dreamiest human being ever. tall, buff, and she had good taste in literature.
today was the day! you’d been looking forward to this tuesday for the whole week, but you had this horrible feeling inside of you, too - what if it went wrong?
to ezra’s knowledge, abby was single, so you didn’t have to worry about that, but still - what if she didn’t even like you in general?
what if she didn’t show up at all?
and that was how you knew you were being delusional about this whole thing - you had one conversation that lasted a minute. and now you wondered if she even cared as much as you did, or if she had literally forgotten about you.
it felt like you were staring at the clock all day long, taking note of every time an hour passed.
she didn’t come.
at the end of the day, you tried not to look disappointed as you got ready to leave. you grabbed your umbrella, noticing the pouring rain.
you couldn’t help but feel like maybe you were overreacting, but the miserable rain said exactly how you felt on the inside.
you stepped over orange leaves soaked into the road as you walked to your car and thought about her again.
you just wanted your happily ever after already.
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abby had no idea what had gotten into her - she really spent all of last night writing a spoiler-free review of some dumb romcom for the cute librarian. reading romcoms was typical for her, sure, but writing an in depth, spoiler free review? for the cute librarian?
unusual behaviour, for sure, but there was no way she would let whatever this was lead to a dead end. and as abby was walking towards the door of the library, crunching leaves in her path on a day that finally wasn’t raining, she realised she had forgotten something.
she mumbled a curse quietly to herself as she grabbed the paper she’d typed up and printed out, leaning against the wall and fishing through her bag for a pen.
she finally found one, scribbling down her name and number in what she hoped was legible handwriting, drawing a small heart next to it.
with a small nod at herself she finally mustered the courage to walk through the doors. she paused for a second in defeat, spotting the front desk with no sign of you there. fuck. how embarrassing, she mused.
she’d seen you shelving a few times in the past when she’d come, and admired you from a distance. she was praying to god that that was the case today.
she walked up to ezra, who she’d seen many times, to return the book. they gave her a knowing smile.
abby nervously returned the smile, turning back to walk upstairs. she held the paper so delicately in her hand, trying her best not to crease it, and fiddled with her braid in the other hand.
as she reached the top of the stairs, she was so relieved upon seeing your checkered brown blazer that she almost jumped in the air.
this was the hard part - getting the courage to speak to you. she almost didn’t want to disturb you while you were working, you just looked so cute in the dark lighting, searching through the classifications to find the right spot for every book you shelved.
until she noticed you struggle to lean up and push in a book on the highest shelf. that was her chance.
“hey, you need help?” she asked, walking over and leaning a little closed to you. she cringed a little at the way she sounded, so shaky and nervous for no reason - it’s not like you were going to laugh at her.
you jumped a little, looking at her, unable to stop a wide smile from crossing your face.
“if that’s okay- i just have some trouble with the high shelves sometimes…”
“of course, no big deal.” abby suddenly felt a bit more confident, taking the book from your hands gently. “where am i putting it?”
you pointed up high at a little gap you had created. “just up there, thank you-”
“hey, it’s no problem,” abby said as she shelved the book with ease, then leaned down to squeeze your shoulder. she liked the way you suddenly grew bashful over that. “i know i was supposed to come in yesterday- i needed an extra day to finish…”
“oh! that’s alright,” you laughed off, suddenly feeling a bit dumb. of course she needed an extra day to finish. why hadn’t you thought of that? “one extra day’s not bad. so how was the book?”
now abby didn’t exactly know what to say - she knew there was a chance she’d come across weird. she rehearsed this a million times and yet she strayed so far from the script she’d made in her head.
“uh- s-so i had like a lot of thoughts about it and- i mean, i don’t know, there was a lot to say. so i kinda wrote a- a review? no spoilers, don’t worry! i just-”
“no way!” you exclaimed, a wide smile on your face. you realised you were a little loud then, trying to calm down. “that’s really nice! thank you-”
“it’s no biggie,” abby mumbled shyly, handing you the written review and rubbing the back of her neck. she was close enough that she could smell your perfume - a warm, vanilla scent, almost like cookies.
she couldn’t help the small smirk that played at her lips when she noticed you stutter and pause when you saw her number at the bottom of the page.
“i- thank you- i’ll read it when i get home,” you said, a quiet giggle accompanying it. everything about you drove abby insane.
“you got any recommendations for what i should read this week?” abby asked.
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yourstingrey · 6 months
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Luke X Daughter of Kymopoleia
Reader has constant mood swings which is understandable due to her heritage of being the daughter of the goddess of violent sea storms and sweet BF Luke always helps her out/calms her down and doesn’t let her feel bad about herself because of it since she can’t help it ( also please can you mention Clarisse as like a side character and readers bestfriend )
Calm After the Storm
A/N: EEEEE I was actually kinda so hype for this request cus ive never seen anything similar and its actually a cool like character I hadnt thought about in the pjo universe! I hope this is good anon i tried my very best!! This post was really helped me with kymopoleia so it might be helpful to read before this but you dont have to!
Warnings: threats of fighting someone?
Description: An annoying loss, an annoying Chris, and a very patient Luke!
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The sun was shining, and a warm dancing breeze fluttering around camp on what should have been a beautiful day was being ruined by Chris droning on about being a sore winner. Gloatingly of course. We just had our capture the flag the night before and as usual, we lost. We would have been so close to winning this time Clarisse and I had it all planned. Last time we learned last time trying a seduction tactic did in fact not work so this time we decided we would target their weak which to us was Chris. Not to say he was a bad swordsman by any means but up against me and her we knew he wouldn't stand a chance. A perk of dating Luke was also he forgot that he shouldn't spill his capture the flag plans. Soooo we also knew for a fact it was Chris guarding the flag. 
We snuck through the woods with ease no one tried to hunt us down they knew we'd get to them first, Chris was practically sleeping while he sat in front of the flag entirely spaced out we moved from behind and started to grab the flag of course a single shift of my chest plate was enough to break him out of his daze and turn towards us and of course start to scream to his team like a little girl. We got caught pretty quickly. We may be strong but not take on 20 campers strong and it wasn't long after we heard the cheers of the Blue team already at the river.
So now of course, as I tried to relax Chris decided it was the perfect time to gloat at me “I mean what a stupid plan no offense” I drowned him out a little too busy clenching my jaw so I didn't practically spit venom at him, Chris continued now laughing as he continued “-I mean really I can't believe you thought I couldn't take you both on bahahaha!” A real knee slapper to him. I finally unballed my fists from my sides to get into Chris’s face, backing him into a tree my voice laced with annoyed anger “We could take you on idiot! You just had to scream for your team to save you!” Chris stuttered before coming up with a weak rebuttal putting his hands up in defeat “UH- that's not even true i just had to get them so they would watch you after the fight but they got there fast pfft I could have easily taken you” I grab a hold of Chris’s shirt “Oh really let's do it now then. No crying for anyone else this time.” 
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In the background, a crowd had not formed but anyone working or sitting close by paused to watch not swarming in case Chiron were to notice and break up hopefully a really funny fight (funny as all campers knew the outcome) Even Clarrise sitting back with her siblings let out a little yell of “Get his ass Y/N!” But One of those campers mainly Luke, who quickly made his way over forgetting he was supposed to help campers make friendship bracelets he had to make sure his girlfriend was okay bracelets could wait, and that she didn't shred his best friend into pieces. Jogging over he quietly grabbed his girlfriend's hand that was gripping onto Chris. I let out a quiet breath before meeting his eyes, in an instant looking into his soft gaze I dropped my hand not before I quickly gave him one last dirty look and stepped back “C’mon let’s go” Luke said as he grabbed my hand leading me away.
He leads us to sit in front of the creek as I sit I absent mindedly throw rocks at the water watching it ripple and splash. Turning back to face Luke he already gives me a knowing look to tell him why I wanted to maim him. I took a deep breath before I word vomited it out “I mean ugh! I know he's your best friend and all but sometimes he's such a dick! Saying ‘I could take you guys’ But he literally starts screaming out ‘Luke come save me she's here!’ or or ‘Guys come back Clarisse is gonna eat me!’ as if he wouldn't even enjoy that too ugh! He's just so- so ANNOYING!” Luke's hand grabbed mine again to stop me from getting heated again, his eyes flickering back to the creek to see me subconsciously making a creek look like a raging ocean. He threw his back laughing at my rant about Chris, as he calmed down he just looked down at me rubbing slow circles onto the back of my hand. 
His hands were rough and calloused but it didn't matter because when he held onto me I could feel warmth practically spread from my fingertips to my head and toes. “I'll make sure to lock him out of the cabin, he can sleep out in the cold. How bout that hmm?” He joked, craning his neck to look at me. I cracked a small smile “Maybe I'll pray for my mom to storm a bit too…” His hand let go but just to sneak behind my waist and pull me closer leaning my head on his chest “I'm sorry I got mad at Chris I know he is your friend..” I mumbled out against him I could feel him shrug against me before looking back down at me “Nah don't be sorry honestly I should have let you at him he deserved it butttt I wouldn't want my girlfriend to have to be cleaning stables all of next week” 
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and started to start up about what he was doing before he had to save Chris. “Wait doesn't that mean you should be helping those kids now..?” A bit of panic dawned on his face as he tugged us both up and pulled me with him as he walked (more like speed walked) “Actually uh were both going to help now!” I laughed as he tugged me along with him..
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marwhoa · 1 year
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request: @t3rnished ; like I don't know if you know this, there's this spinoff called attack on Titan Junior High, it's based off the actual anime jsjsjs and there's these two characters one who always says " After this why don't we just get married? " like after every inconvenience -- so I was wondering how the rise turtles would react over a doting reader who always says that?? Likw they're also super protective!! There are some clips on youtube!!
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🝮 “ wedding bells ”
platonic!rise boys x y/n
author’s note: phew, it’s been a while, did y’all miss me? yes? no? okay, well, here i am with a request someone made a whiiiiile ago but it was in my convos so i forgot about it til now 😭 i’m so sorry bb, i hope you like it 😔 i didn’t watch the show but i hope this comes off close? yes? no? okay, bye bye, luv you !!!
word count: 2.2k
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How fitting is it that your first meeting with the brothers could have been described as a knight in shining armor? At any other point it would have been them as the saviors, but when you’re caught off guard, you tend to be left in a pinch.
Which is where four particular brothers found themselves when a duo of jellyfish mutants crashed what should have been a regular, totally normal picnic. They should’ve been in their A-Game, a battle that was supposed to be a walk in the park, until a barrage of electric tentacles whipped them all straight on their ass.
“ C’mon, we save the world and this is the thanks we get! ”
Groaned the brother in blue, rocking on the ground as he held the stinging of his abdomen tightly.
“ Do you believe in white flags? ”
Whimpered the brother in orange as he waved a little white flag with eyes shut tight in pain.
The fishy duo scoffed, going on about some mess about mutants league that was hellbent on blaming these four for their plights as “ humans whose lives were ruined ”, before pulling back what would have been a mean hit seizing their victory!
Emphasis on “ would ”, because just as the exhausted four accepted defeat, a knight appeared on the scene with a battle cry and a swinging bag!
“ AAAAAH!! ”
You yelled in panic, swatting the tendrils away with a wimpy squeak each time contact singed your bag. Your shaking legs and chattering teeth were ignored as the battle came to a standstill, both sides simply gawking as a metaphorical tumbleweed passed by. You sucked in an inhale, gritting your teeth and tightening your grip as you glared down the duo.
“ UH—UM! WELL… Stop! ”
You jabbed your finger in their direction then shooing them away.
“ Oh? ”
One of the villainous brothers cooed, taking a step forward as he recovered from the surprise.
“ You’re meddling in matters you don’t quite get, so do us all a favor and SCRAM! ”
Electricity jolted menacingly as he thrusted a tentacle towards you. You prepared to swing that mighty bag of yours once more before a flash of red apparated before you, blocking the attack altogether. The boys behind you all jumped to their feet, shrugging off their fatigue and assuming positions with a newfound strength.
The largest one, clad in red, turned to flash you a toothy grin and a thanks, but all you could do was stare wide-eyed. There was one sentence hanging on your tongue, slipping out without even a chance of censorship.
“ Marry me. ”
He turned to fight back the villainous jellies, only to trip and faceplants instantly, turning to you with a bewildered, flustered look?!
“ Say what now!? ”
Obviously, as every other encounter ends, the brothers reigned supreme over the mutant jellyfish brothers, but you became a constant in their everyday lives. By the grace of the gods or by misfortune, you would somehow always end up appearing where a villain was. Be it out of breath, as though you seeked danger out, or by surprise as you stepped out of whatever little shop you turned up at, there was something the brothers could always count on, and it was you.
Or well, your little quips.
See, they were almost as bad as Leo’s, if not for the charming execution and your charismatic nature. No matter how bad the scenes got, once everyone pulled through, they could all count on you breaking the silence with a snarky, completely out of breath,
“ That was—hah, haaaah— one, phew, that was a doozy! Why don’t we just get married and out this all behind us? ”
Followed by a little thumbs up as you laid flat on the aftermath debris. Collective groans escaped the team, followed by Leo shouting, “ Donnie! Did you get that one? ” You couldn’t help but laugh, exhaustedly hoisting your aching body up to see the purple projection tallying up just how many times you’d ended a fight with a similar comment.
“ That makes the 57th time you’ve said this, Y/N. Do I hear the wedding bells already? ”
Leo grinned, cross-legged with his head planted against his hand.
“ Oh hush. ”
But, it didn’t end there. No, your behavior peeked its head even in the smallest inconveniences or the most normal of interactions. Each brother had been exposed to your proposals, and they all had different reactions to them.
For Mikey, it’s a given that the first incident was food related. A weary you had stumbled down into the lair, wilting at the kitchen table as you basked in what might have been a perfect reenactment of that scene in Ratatouille. With your head in your arms, laid against the table, you hummed to the menagerie of cardamom and chili powder, of parsley and an aromatic blend of diced onions, carrots, and greens.
It wasn’t long before the brother noticed your company and chuckled, stirring his craft as its smell wafted you into a waltz, dipping you through the heartwarming tastes.
“ Don’t worry, I’ll make you a bowl that’ll get you right on your feet, Y/N. ”
While you had simply groaned in response, your pep had returned just as you got a bite of whatever masterpiece this artist crafted. As it melted on your tongue, enlivening your whole being, you stared starry-eyed at the brother and purred your usual quip.
“ Oh Mikey, why don’t we just get married so I can experience this for the rest of my life! ”
Albeit flustered, Mikey simply shook his head and laughed.
“ That’s probably the best compliment my cookings ever had! Maybe I’ll just hire you as my taste tester? ”
“ Please!! ”
After a while, Mikey would eventually let you lend a hand in the kitchen, too. Soon, your homecooked meals were sought after by friends and family, all taken aback by how you managed to create amazing dishes so suddenly???
Now, for Raph, he hadn’t gotten used to these quips, and sometimes you weren’t actually kidding! I mean, how could you not? He was like those folks in fairytales, always there to protect you, to lend a listening hear and a helping hand! He might’ve been the first to hear your little proposals and affection, but boy he was the farthest from being normal about it. Especially with how starry-eyed you would gaze at him while saying it!
“ Y/N! ”
You perked at your name being called, turning to see yourself as the unlucky target of some sort of machinery’s attack. As it unhinged its metallic jaws, lunging at you to chomp, its body was shattered under the force of a fist, glittering red with invigorating magic.
“ Are you okay? ”
He asked, peering down at your frame with such an air of heroism that you melted into a smile.
“ I love how heroic you are. ”
For a moment, he completely forgot of the other little mousers closing in with clanging jaws. Everything flooded back just as quickly as it left, with his gaze snapping back to the threat as he guarded you.
“ Y/N, ya really gotta stop flustering me like that! Raph doesn’t, doesn’t—he doesn’t know how to, ah—. ”
He shakes his head, stumbling over his words before lunging to strike. You were amazed by his strength, if not for the sudden realization of their multiplying once being struck.
“Ah, Wait, hey—hey, Raph? Raph?! RAPH!! I think they’ve been—they’re, THEY’RE MULTIPLYING LIKE THE SILVERFISH, RAPH STOP HITTING THEM! ”
You squealed, trying to get his attention as you batted a mouser away with your trusty bag! He was heroic, strong, but sometimes a ditz. Not like that made you love him any less!
Now, for Leo it always seemed like he was with it. Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if he was joking! He was quick to pick up your habits.
The first time it happened, you were the one to be dumbfounded. None of the other brothers would allow it, but he let you go on patrols with him. Perhaps he just needed an ear to talk off, or maybe it was because you were a magnet for danger? Whatever the reason, he let you tag along, and you were overjoyed.
Atop a roof’s edge you sat, swinging your legs while gazing across the cityscape with an eye almost as watchful as his.
“ Aahh, the nighttime is so serene, once you tune out the bustling noise. ”
You laid back, eyes closed as you inhaled the lunar air. The rustling beside you indicated he followed suit, laying back. Peeking at him with one eye, you purred a snide remark.
“ Say, shouldn’t you be focusing instead of relaxing? ”
“ Me? Focus? Not when you’re chilling so comfortably beside me. ”
You both have a breathy little chuckle, gazing at the stars and basking in the tranquility of the night. It wasn’t as though every night brought with it threat. In fact, most patrols were spent this same way—relaxing somewhere in each other’s time, wasting away the hours until it was “ throw in the towel ” time. As the city sounds drowned into the background, you gave an exhale and opened your mouth to speak.
“Aaahh, how delightful it would be to stay like this forever. ”
“ Yeah, maybe we should just marry the night together? ”
You could hear the grin in his voice, reaching over to shove him playfully.
“ Pft, copycat! Marrying is my thing. ”
“ Oh really? Then maybe you should marry me, I’m obviously the most wed-able brother. ”
“ Is that a word? ”
You gave a scrutinizing gaze, tinged with a goofy grin as he shrugged and declared “ it is now ! ”
Now, he had even thrown them at you a few times in combat, like say for instance, when he caught you in his arms after a hefty opponent had unceremoniously swatted you away from the battlefield. Even you were caught off guard in the moment, clinging to the turtle’s chest while trying to catch your breath.
“ You know what they call this hold? ”
He adjusted his grip on you, emphasizing the position of you draped in his arms, but you were much too out of it to catch yourself from the spider’s web trap he laid for you.
“ Wh-what? ”
The smirk on his face reeled you in, but not before you could interrupt him with a “ hey, wait! “
“ Bridal style. Ah, are those wedding bells I hear? Hurry, my bride, rush to the ceremony! ”
He laughed, placing you down and shoving you towards an exit, implicitly saying, “ it’s too dangerous, get out of here. “
For the last brother, Donnie, it always seemed like he was going to ban you altogether. The heavy sigh that crawled out of him each time you made a quip was enough to momentarily question whether or not you were getting too ahead of yourself. Were you playing too much? Should you rein it in a little? If it weren’t for the split-second smirks, you would have long since dropped your displays of affection with him.
And, after a while, he started to play along with your charades as Leo did—albeit only in the comfort of their own home.
Initially he held his tongue and ignored your comments, and you had trouble reading him. Was he genuinely annoyed? The brothers would tell you otherwise, say that he thought it was funny in his own way, they’d tell you not to worry, but how could you ignore it when he would roll his eyes? Growl? Seem completely annoyed by your antics?
It wasn’t until he experienced your chivalrous protector nature that he started responding differently to your affection. In the fight against Shredder, they knew they were all on their own against this threat. No one in their right mind would stand up for any of them, not to this demon!
So, when his battleshell was demolished by one swipe of the demon, he prepared himself for the final blow, comically waving a white flag, before a shadow was casted over him and a signature bag was swung like a torch at a monster.
“ GET AWAY, B-BACK UP, LEAVE HIM ALONE!! ”
Your signature scream had brought him back to his senses as he watched your trembling frame try pathetically to swat away the threat. Aside from April, you may have been the only human who would try foolishly to protect any of the brothers from an enemy infinitely stronger than you, and he couldn’t help but respect that.
So, he had taken it upon himself to put a bit more energy into humoring you.
Dramatically leaning into Donnie, hand across your forehead and your other hand reached for the heavens, you mewled playfully.
“ Oh, dearest Donnie, even if the gods were to be against you, I would be your knight! ”
With a giggle, you let him grab your hand, spinning and dipping you.
“ And pray tell, beloved Y/N, how dost thou intend to protect one who hast more power than thou? ”
His brothers groaned from the couch, more than accustomed to the strange dynamic cultivated between you both.
“ Tell, I will, with all my strength I’ll fend off the threats with my trusty sword! ”
You held up your bag with a determined expression. Laughter filled the room before you both joined the couch for movie night.
Well, Donnie sat normally.
You gave a battle cry and leapt onto them. It was an understatement to say you fit comfortably into this family’s puzzle like a long-lost piece.
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