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#fluff and joy
liz-allyn · 2 years
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so I’ve noticed for the first time that when I send you my asks there are so so many spelling mistakes I’m so sorry about them with a mixture of autocorrect and poor eyesight it ends up becoming the jumble of words that I send you I’ll try typing up on my computer instead of my phone maybe that helps
anyway so now that’s out of the way I read pt 14!!!! I am squealing in happiness it was freaking cute ☺️!! Takes my back to the first chapter when he was pining over her ahh I told you it’s so fairy tale esque when they are together like this so many scenes that I could swear are out of beauty and the beast the princess and the frog Pygmalion etc the awkward dinner sequence the basket ball sequence him and the cherry on top the prize of all prizes the one that made my hands fly to my face as I let out a happy shocked gasp the admission of love ❤️ I’m happy and know that the angst is gonna kick in but I’m going to try and live off this sugar rush as long as I can did I tell you that her confrontation with him after she finds out the coffee shop burned down and their walking around the country house are tied to be my most re read scenes in the series ?!? I love angst as much as the fluff but I appreciate the fluff so much because of I’m feeding my hunger of the scraps of happy sun lit carefree moments you gift us with I need honey to blow a hole in johns head ok!!Follower by blowing Peter I need a these violet delight esque ending for him and Fisk but especially him I’m so fascinated with the way you write Fisk his presences looms large in the story even though he’s not even an actual character yet I’m terrified of when we finally get to see him actually terrified and that is fucking amazing that you’re able to convey this . I was kind of glad we got miles I was going through withdrawals with that boy he makes me miss his presences even it was angsty as hell his presence is noted and appreciated same with Felicia
Anyway that’s it for now have water stay safe sorry I’m advance for the spellings if there are any
🌌
Ps : omg you used the soho house gif fuccickvkvi it was so sexy to see and made my heart happy 😆
Hi starlight!
Oh gosh don’t feel worried about the spellcheck drama. If I didn’t have autocorrect I’d never get anything done. It’s never bothered me!
I find that the sweet parts of their relationship are the trickiest for me to write, so I’m so glad you enjoy them! Idk why the flirting doesn’t come easily when I think about it as a second character, so maybe I’m leaning heavily into Mary sue territory by writing my personality into those scenes. 😆 I don’t know why I can write complex angst and emotions but fluff…? 🤷🏻‍♀️
I’ve also started cross posting this fic on Ao3. I don’t keep up with that account as much because I haven’t figured out the engagement magic, but it’ll be nice for readers who aren’t on tumblr to get to meet Peter and Honey.
S&V!John Walker is one of my favorite awful characters to write. I have had a fun time psycho-analyzing this psycho, and making him a worthy villain for this story. I promise, I have something special planned for Agent Walker.
There will be blood.
Love ya!
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ministarfruit · 8 months
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day 2: please be gentle ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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juniper-clan · 7 months
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Moon 14: Birth of Venus
(AKA the twins!)
PREVIOUS l NEXT
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natalievoncatte · 5 months
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Few moments in Alex’s life would stick out like this one. There was a rising panic in her throat, pulsing against her airway. Panic and grief gripped her like icy hands, working to strangle, and she wasn’t sure if what she choked down was a sob or vomit. Her hands trembled as they held the paper. She hadn’t thought of this.
The letterhead read simply, PAST DUE- FINAL NOTICE.
With everything going on, she’d simply forgotten about the matter until she swung by the loft. She should have sent Kelly, should have set up something earlier to deal with this. Kara was six months behind on her rent and she was going to be evicted if she didn’t pay.
Which she never would.
Alex had quietly accepted, about a month ago, that Kara wasn’t coming home, that all their methods had been exhausted, that her sister was lost in an infinite, shattered Phantom Zone, never to be found. She’s finally gotten the martyrdom that she’d been unknowingly seeking since she arrived on Earth.
She was keeping it bottled up, because the others still believed, even Brainy, who had to know the odds.
Alex seethed with a towering rage. There were some nights when, lying awake in Kelly’s arms, she’d fantasize about how she’d punish Clark for failing Kara, or what she’d do to Lex Luthor if she got her hands on him. Sometimes it would even be J’onn she raged at, or Lena.
She saved them all so many times, threw her life and body and soul in front of all them as a shield and took on their misery and suffering on top of her own, and though it was like drops cast in the ocean of Kara Zor-El’s grief, she felt every blow, every loss. Alex’s falling tears stained the letter as she thought of every time Kara paced this apartment, excoriating herself for her failures whenever she couldn’t be in five disasters at once.
Alex didn’t want her to be a superhero. She didn’t want that need to throw herself between others and their own suffering to consume Kara’s life, but it had.
Not for the first time, Alex wished that Kara had just stayed on the ground and let her plane crash. It was a selfish, hateful impulse. Kara would never have let it happen and even if she had, something would have prompted her to put on that red and blue costume and fly. It was what she was for.
Alex raged anyway. Fuck that little shit Wynn for making her a costume. The little pervert probably just wanted to make her try shit on to see her half naked. Fuck J’onn for recruiting her, fuck Clark for abandoning her… and… and…
The paper crumpled and so did Alex, sobbing. This was all her fault. If only…
“Alex?”
She hadn’t heard Lena come in. She’d long ago given up heels. Hell, shed given up. She was a wearing a hoodie that Alex knew was Kara’s and her hair was in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and if asked when she last ate or sleep, she’d have lied. Alex already knew the answer: she ate when someone remembered to feed her and she slept on a cot in her lab as she tortured herself.
Lena was the only one that Alex couldn’t rage at because Lena was already punishing herself. Kara would be furious if she knew how they were letting Lena treat her health.
Without a word, Lena gently grasped the letter and Alex released it.
Lena read it, frowning.
Then she pulled out her phone.
“Jess, I have a task for you. I’m going to send you a pic of an eviction letter. I want you to pay off the back rent.”
“Lena,” Alex began.
Lena waved her off.
“I want the building. Set up some shell companies. No one can know it’s me. Try to negotiate so it looks legit, but they can name their price. I want it done by tonight.”
Lena hung up.
“This is her place,” Lena said, softly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Alex.
“Yes, I did. This is her place. She deserves to come back to it,” Lena dropped onto the sofa beside her. “I will never give up. I don’t care if I’m still trying to bring her home when I’m old and gray, it’ll be worth it to see her one more time.”
Alex felt a wave of grief overwhelming her.
“Besides,” Lena forced cheer into her voice. “I spent a billion dollars so I could hang out with her at work. What’s an apartment building?”
Alex jolted. It was as if she watched a wine glass, which had toppled and shattered and cast its contents across the floor, leap back into position. As if the shards of crystal returned to their proper places and the cracks sealed, and the wine splashed back to its proper place, not a single shimmering golden drop lost. When the understanding snapped into place, it was like a lightning bolt. She felt too large for her skin, and the fine hairs at the back of her neck stood, as though bearing a charge.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Lena was in love with Kara.
She could see it now. The love radiated from every pore of Lena’s skin, undulled by the grief that draped her like a nighted cloak, as gold shimmered untarnished beneath dust. Alex’s heart was about to break again.
“I have to get back to the lab.”
“Why are you here?” Alex said, softly.
“I was… I’ve been spending the night. I should have asked. I’m sorry.”
“Kara would want you to.”
Kara would want you to move on, Alex thought. She would want you to find someone and be happy and think only of her in fond memories. She would gladly martyr herself for you, too. You above all. She never stopped defending you even when…
Now there were two wine glasses, side by side, almost touching but not quite, promising a toast unsaid.
Oh.
Oh God.
Alex launched off the couch and threw her arms around Lena, holding her tight. Lena recoiled a little; she seemed to dislike hugs, almost like she didn’t understand them, even as she’d melted in Kara’s embrace dozens of times.
How had she been so blind?
“We’ll get her back,” Alex said.
“We will,” said Lena.
Later, Alex stood off to the side, her veins singing with unbridled joy after Kara released her from a full on, no-powers bear hug. She watched as the others embraced her and slapped her back and welcomed her home while Lena stared at here like she couldn’t believe she was real.
Limping, haggard, Kara suffered their joys with quiet reserve, pushing a little closer to her ultimate destination with each one until she stood in front of Lena.
The hug was awkward, tentative, but Kara thrust herself into it after a hesitant moment and Lena molded against her, the pair standing cheek to cheek a beat too long. Lena pulled back and Kara pulled after her, leaning in, only to dance back and do that awkward little shift.
“Kara,” Alex blurted. “For fuck’s sake, just do it.”
Kara looked at her, wide-eyed and a little betrayed. Kara was beyond honest to a fault: Alex knew that after Kara nervously told her about the infamous “I flew here on a bus “ incident. Kara was honest to the core of her very being, sickened by the act of lying.
To Alex’s surprise, it was Lena’s hands on Kara’s shoulders that turned her away. Kara looked back and her and Lena brought her hands to Kara’s cheeks, resting her palms against the abnormally pale skin of her face. Kara froze for two heartbeats and then gently put her hands on Lena’s sides and pulled her in, there bodies slotting together as their lips found one another, Kara leaning over Lena a little more with the added height of her boots as Lena collapsed into her, tears glittering on her cheeks. The kiss carried on until Alex cleared her throat.
Everyone in the room was stunned save Alex.
“Guys,” she said, “let’s give them a little privacy, huh? We can celebrate later.”
As the others filed out of the room, Lena raised her head from where it had lain on Kara’s shoulder and mouthed a silent thank you.
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sivyera · 7 months
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puck and pirouette
inside out 2 riley andersen x fem!reader
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a/n: i'm SO excited for inside out 2! also in this fanfic, Riley is 15+! also at the end there is a edit of Riley i found on tt, so you can imagine more how she looks like now, when she's older, credit for the edit goes to the author! also i guess this is a bit shorter fic but i still like it, enjoy
key words: rivals to lovers, secret relationship, hockey player x ice-skater
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In San Francisco there are lots of good winter stadions, the one where Riley played wasn't the only one, yet you and your ice-skater friends decided to take this one.
Your ice-skating practice was from 5 p.m. to 6:45 p.m., then it was hockey time.
But you and your friends always stayed a bit longer which made Riley and her team angry. But they were always 20 minutes early which distracted you and your team from practising as they were walking around, laughing and looking at you.
It was a circle of you and Riley, passing around the responsibility, arguing, giving each other mean looks and provoking each other.
Both, your and Riley's coach noticed but they though it was just a playful rivality between two young girls.
Your rivality continued even in school because to Riley's and your surprise, you both were in the same school. You sometimes left a sticker saying "i ♥️ ice-skating" on her locker, which took her weeks to wash off. In return she sometimes left her stinky socks from practise in your locker.
Or when you're doing pirouettes and she's already on the ice, she passes a puck towards you and you, in worry not to get hit, ruin the pirouette.
On the other hand when she's on the wc, you always steal her hockey stick and hide it somewhere; you always smile at her angry face when she can't find it and you already have after practice so you can leave without any aftermath.
But one time, things changed. You got sick, so you missed practice.
When she entered the winter stadion with few of her hockey friends, her eyes went immediately to the right corner of the ice, that was your favourite place. But she didn't see you there, so at first she thought you are at the bathroom but when you weren't coming after 10 minutes, she realized that you are not coming.
She though it will be perfect practice, no one will provoke her, but oh how she was wrong..
Riley and her team always came few minutes earlier and after they put their things in their hockey changing room, they went and sat on those folding chairs that were above the ice.
They were usually talking, talking about everything. About your practice, about their new dresses, about food, about everything.
But Riley was quiet. She had her head leaning against her palm, looking down at the ice, into that one right corner, your corner.
She didn't know why, but she kinda missed you. She got used to you rolling your eyes when you made eye contact with her, she got used to your evil smirk and you sticking your tongue at her when you hid her hockey stick, she got used to stealing your sleeves and blade guards. But now, now she was bored, nothing was happening.
Her friend that was sitting next to her noticed, she knew something was going on long time before. She then smirked and tapped on Riley's shoulder. "You miss her, huh?" Her friend laughed.
Riley quickly turned her head as she heard the question. It was ridiculous, she and miss you? Never.
"What!? No, my god no." Riley answered as she shook her head.
Her friend raised her eyebrow and laughed at Riley. "Yeah sure, whatever you say." Her friend continued laughing.
Riley frowned. Of course she didn't miss you. She didn't like you, she hated you, yes! Yes, she hated you. She hated your soothing voice she always heard in her head whenever she was angry. She hated your magnetizing eyes that were always looking at her. She hated the sport you were doing. She hated how elegant and gorgeous you were when you were ice-skating. She hated all of it.
At least that what she thought few days ago.
Now, here she stands with a flowers in her hands, in front of your front door. Because it didn't take her long to realize that these feelings aren't hate, but love.
You opened the door and saw Riley standing there with awkward smile that showed her bracelets.
After few extra seconds of Riley admiring how pretty you are, she cleared her throat and spoke. "Um- will you go on a date with me, please? Riley asked with a smile as she gave you those flowers she brought you.
You just smiled at took those flowers into your hands. They were beautiful and smelled amazingly.
"Yes, yes I will Riley." You answered with a smile as you gave her a quick kiss on her right cheek. That made Riley blush like crazy, her heart was pounding out of her chest but she was happy.
She finally found the courage to ask you out, to tell you that she likes you...
And it was the best decision she ever made.
"I really like y/n. She has amazing style and clothes." Disgust said as she looked at Joy who was standing next to her.
Joy nodded her head and spined in her yellow dress. "Oh yes, I love her." She said as she smiled while looking at you through Riley's mind.
"She's really kind so I liker her too." Sadness said as a small smile appeared on her face. She then went back to reading.
As Fear heard your name, he automatically nodded his head while Sadness was talking. And Anger of course had to have last word.
"Yeah, she's nice." He said as he was reading the newspaper.
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oliviascully · 2 months
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I have a headcanon that at some point Daniel introduced the terms “spooning,” and “big and little spoon” to Armand, but Armand has never fully understood why it’s called that or how to use these terms.
So when he wants to cuddle, he’ll say “Daniel, can we be spoons?”
And Armand really likes being little spoon.
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randomshipperhere · 4 months
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I tell you guys this has got to be the vibes of the fics.
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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months
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Illyana and Lockheed land after a battle…
Y/N-Pool sheathes their katanas…
Y/N: hey Khalessi! Cute dragon! And an even cuter bum
Illyana: why do I put up with you?
Y/N: I make you laugh? Also I have a super-
Illyana: don’t finish that in front of everyone
Y/N: I was going to say super heart!
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videlia · 9 months
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☾⊹₊ ⋆ Micah when you're on your period ☾⊹₊ ⋆
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Just wanted to write some head canons for when you're on your period about our lovable cah-cah, since I actually finished playing error143 yesterday and phew! It has become one of my many obsessions♡
Micah is the absolute sweetest when you're on your period! Not to say he's not sweet to you 24/7.
But he's probably more caring than he usually is.
And he's a dork.
He knows how cranky you get when you're on your period so he's definitely on the lookout!
Oooouu especially when you get cramps, this man will not let you do anything around the house.
Like anything at all!
C'mon now, this man is the Micah Yujin, and you're his angel, of course he wouldn't let you lift a damn muscle!
Anything you need? He's dashing straight into your bedroom, ready to heed your request.
Water? Got it. You're cold and freezing? He'll gently tuck you in a shit ton of blankets while embracing you into his arms.
Did I mention that he uses this opportunity to cuddle you all the time?
A jelly donut from the new donut shop that just opened recently? No need to speak another word, it's already being delivered as you speak!
Work to do? He's already sent an email to your boss, giving them a dumb but believable excuse.
Basically, he's perfect.
Yet he tries so hard to resist bringing you food that would worsen your cramps! But he won't back down even when you look at him with that cute puppy-eyed look!
He immediately notices when your cramps intensify, noting the way you're clutching your tummy a little too tightly and the way you're squirming in bed.
He's one hell of a perspective boyfriend after all.
But not to worry! He's already prepared a heating bag, placing it on your abdomen, also including some painkillers by the nightstand to soothe your ache.
Though your period does have a toll on your attitude, Micah definitely doesn't mind at all, even when you scare him with that small death glare of yours when he's a being a snarky jerk.
But he just wants to make you smile when you're hurting this much.
Micah is sooooooooo patient with you, it's damn adorable to you too!
This manchild just loves you too much to not shower you with love, even when you're on your period.
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toweroftickles · 2 months
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Hi (:
What do you think about characters of "Inside out 2"? Do we have some lees here?
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Ok I somehow didn't experience the original Inside Out until like 2 weeks ago, and then immediately rushed to theaters for the second one, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since! Of course the first thing I started daydreaming about was the chaos that would ensue in Brain HQ during tickles. So yes, I've definitely got headcanons. XD
EMOTIONAL * RESPONSES
When Riley Gets Tickled
Joy squees, claps, bounces up and down, the usual. "AAAH Tickle time! Awww, our girl is still so adorable..."
Disgust: "Mm-mm. I hate this. Hate it. Majorly messing with my zen."
Sadness: *confused and a little uncomfortable*
Fear: *open-mouthed and deeply uncomfortable*
Envy gasps and hops up to the screen. "Omigosh omigosh they're touching us. That means they like us and think we're cute, right? Right?!"
Anger: "Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?! You want a fight, kid?! I'll give ya a fight! Right up your -"
Anxiety: "Wait! There's a million possible variables in what'll happen if we decide to fight back! Accidentally punching them would be devastating to our network!"
Joy's not paying attention, she's too busy laughing and hammering the serotonin injector.
"I-I got it! Scream! Just holler, really loud!"
"GUHH, get out of the wayyyy; stop hogging this thing! We have to run! Come on!"
Ennui: *exists in French*
*Meanwhile Embarrassment is just spread out like a starfish and rolling his entire girth back and forth across the keyboard.*
When Riley's Tickling Someone Else
Joy takes the wheel here. The others know not to disturb a master plying her craft. She's an expert tickler, so she feeds Riley a whole bushel of fun ideas, and Envy is her eager troublemaker minion.
There is in fact a dedicated "Tickle" command button. The plastic is slightly stuck in the slot because it hasn't been used much.
Anger keeps trying to grab his levers and switches, but Joy usually shoves him to the side with her foot.
*tries to wrest control from Joy and rein her in*
*barfing in the corner somewhere*
When a Tickle Scene Pops Up in a Movie
Joy giggles happily and squirms in her seat, then boops the control panel so that Riley follows suit.
Disgust is a tiny bit antsy...she's not influencing Riley yet but she's on standby in case stuff gets weird.
Embarrassment gingerly taps the console at increasing intervals until Sadness pulls his arm away.
Ennui: Probably watching something else. Or doomscrolling.
When Someone Asks Riley if She's Ticklish
*screams like a little girl*
*hides, bangs head on the desk*
"That is NOT funny!"
"Oh no! What do we do; whaddawedo?! Riley's way too ticklish! What if they tickle us and don't stop for the rest of eternity?! What if they think Riley's laugh is weird and we're socially ostracized and forced to get a job in a fish cannery?!"
“Ew ew ew ew no. Lie. We have to lie right now!” *jumps for the controller*
*Joy grabs Disgust's arm* "Whoa whoa whoa, eeeaasy there. Let's just calm down...this is a fun question; we're having fun..."
Envy: "Ooo, what if they're ticklish and they want us to tickle them?" *already wiggling her fingers in the air*
"But if we misread that signal and make them mad at us, then..."
Ennui: *groans and taps her console app*
Riley, being super casual: “Meh…a little. Not really.”
Suddenly Riley's eyes dilate. Her throat hitches and there's the tiniest bit of pink in her cheeks. Everyone turns their heads to look at -
“EMBARRASSMENT!!! *dry heave* WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
"Ohhhh boy. There it is. We're doomed now."
When They Get Tickled Themselves
Come on, we all know that Joy always draws first blood. (Er...first giggle?) She's such a switchy monster. Tickling is her default method of cheering others up. It's canon. Case closed.
As someone whose default setting repels positivity, Sadness is not ticklish at all, and this actually upsets her.
*silently grabs the tickler by the neck and tosses them out the window*
Nobody protests like Disgust. She gets mad. She slaps. She hurls insults. She runs away. Disgust is both extremely ticklish and extremely touch-averse, so this is Code Red for her.
Fear is the type who doesn’t so much “laugh” as “have a shrieking, spastic outburst and breakdance like Sonic the Hedgehog in a malfunctioning taser-testing facility."
At first, Anxiety is overcome by stressful jitters, miserable and whimpering, and her whole body contracts. After a few moments of tickling, though, she starts to let all that tension out and relaxes into nervous vibrato laughter. It becomes sort of a therapeutic stress release, like her special chair.
It's not exactly the physical sensation of tickle torture that Envy craves, it's the attention. The sound she makes when tickled oscillates between wild, snorty cackles and the dulcet hoots of a baby owl trapped in a pinball machine.
Ennui is dead. No reaction. Her body is a neurological cemetery. ...EXCEPT for her heels and the back of her knees. (And if you thought phone loss made her experience Vietnam flashbacks...)
What do you think Embarrassment does? He plops himself down on the floor and pulls his hoodie so tight around his face that no one can tell if he's laughing or sobbing.
Misc.
As Riley's primary protector, Fear is always scouting ahead for any potentially-tickly environmental hazards, and gently nudges her away from catastrophe ("you forgot your shoes! put them back on before you walk on grass;" "don't lift your arms up around Bree and Grace;" "those massage chairs in the mall are actually full of rusty knives and drug dealers sleep on them;" etc.)
When Riley gets tickled, the emotions don't "feel" it, exactly, but they perceive something of a contact buzz.
These are typically how the reactions go, but they're not universal. If Riley's been in a bad mood, Anger might be more proactive in grabbing the handles. Embarrassment may have more or less of his body mass pancaking the buttons, depending on who's tickling her. (Like...a boy?! Or Val?! Or -) Standard variations like that.
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Riley
Riley has an extremely ticklish tummy! That's her spot. (Just the vibe I get; IDK.)
Bree and Grace are really ticklish too, but Riley is the weak link... the member of the trio that the other two team up against. Lots of tickle fights and sneak attacks.
She obviously loves to laugh and goof around with her friends, but probably isn't over-enthused by that last part.
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Val
The most popular girl in school, the tough athletic one - her adulating devotees wouldn't think it, but beneath that too-cool exterior, Val is very weak to tickling.
All the other Firehawks know, and like to tease Val by poking her.
She's a good sport about it and takes it like a champ - just yelps and laughs and pushes back. They have fun.
Her big weakness is her feet.
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Lance Slashblade
Crop top alert. The abs are asking for it. (Just sayin.')
The thought of being tickled is intolerable to him. Even in this...what should be a moment of joyous camaraderie...he is haunted. Forced to laugh like...like some sort of...clown swordsman?! How could he be so weak...so degraded...so unworthy to carry the holy blade of his ancestors, they whose destinies were written in the stars ere these centuries long past? Will he never be a true warrior, with the strength to stem the tide of encroaching night? It is too painful to think about...the icy whips of humiliation, always ravenous and bitter in their lashes, strike! and cast him into the shadows and okay the joke's over now we're getting long-winded and edgelordery big words drama sparkling vampires and junk
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(Also, yes, he Morph-Balls himself.)
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months
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Wary Sailor Pt. 2 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader
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summary: Second Mate Matthew Joy goes out on a whale hunt and even after a successful chase, he can't seem to feel satisfied. Something's weighing heavily on his mind. While alone in the harpoon boat, trouble comes to call.
warnings: Aiming a gun at someone, talk of violence, smut, oral (F receiving), penetration, dubious consent (weird circumstances), unprotected sex, Matthew's abandonment issues lol.
word count: 2763k+
Tucumcari- Goodnight, Texas 🎶
Lady May- Tyler Childers 🎵
Note: The lyrics that I included are from the old whaling song Maid of Amsterdam.
*Pt. 3 (and maybe 4???) coming soon!
The men were deployed into the smaller whaling boats, each boat armed with a harpoon and dense cord. Matthew stood at the back of his boat to steer it away from the ship, navigating the aggravated water. He forced himself to think about the whales, keeping his mind inside the boat… but the girl’s eyes appeared like stars in the corner of his vision at all times. 
“Joy!” One of the rowers was yelling at him, snapping him out of his trance. “Joy, focus! Don’t go soft on us all of a sudden, eh?” 
Matthew grimaced as the grisly sailor chuckled. He steered them out to open water, following the Captain's boat as per his orders. While he couldn’t see their bodies in the water, Matthew could hear the loud vibrations of sound the Sperm whales made as they spoke to one another. He could also hear Owen yelling out commands to his men. The harpoonist prepared his weapon. Matthew directed his man to do the same. 
“Steady now!” He advised his men as they waited for movement below the surface. Striking the whale was simple compared to the rest of the exhausting process. Matthew just planned on keeping his men alive but whale oil was also a necessity that he was willing to sacrifice for. He wasn’t a greedy man by any means, he’d lived in poverty all his life. His life was whaling and he didn’t spend much time off the ocean, the stillness made him restless. 
“There she blows!” A man yelled and Matthew peered over the edge as the side of his boat rose out of the water, stuck on the back of an adolescent whale. As he looked over, the distinct silhouette of a woman wavered beneath the surface. Choosing to ignore it, Matthew swung the boat over to allow the harpooner to cast his weapon. 
“Go, go, go!” He barked, spit flying from his mouth as he waved the man on. The harpoon sailed through the sky, landed in the water like a seabird, and missed. The whale diverted away from Matthew’s boat and found itself trapped beside Owen’s. The mother whale broke the surface nearby, distracting the men to the real prize. Matthew steered his boat away as the other men helped reel in the harpoon’s cord. The harpooner aimed and threw. 
It was evening when the whale was secured by chains to the deck of the ship. The whale was so large she had to rest in two different places, one on the ship’s deck and the other in Matthew’s boat. The men aboard wrapped rags around their noses to cover the smell. Matthew just grimaced and rubbed the sockets of his eyes. The darkening landscape helped relieve some of his headache. The other men were already aboard the Essex, only he was left to watch over the end of the whale, saving it from sharks and other predators. He could hear the men singing as they did their work, scraping the fat from the inside of a giant. He hummed along to the song they were singing together.
A roving, a roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-in
I'll go no more a roving
With you fair maid! 
Movement in the water drew his mind away from the song. Ripples expanded across the surface where something had just been. Matthew drew his rifle from the floorboards and checked the chamber for bullets. He watched the surface carefully for the distinct fins of sharks. 
I put my hand upon her thigh
Mark well what I do say!
I put my hand upon her thigh
She said young man ‘That’s rather high’
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid!
Matthew cocked the gun and aimed it at the dark water around his boat. The men’s singing seemed to dissipate with the seriousness of his situation. Sharks could be both dangerous and damaging. The scent of whale blood always drew them in, sending them into a frenzy where they could throw themselves against the side of the boat, risking damage. They were a nuisance to Matthew and he didn’t mind shooting them when necessary. The boat rocked in the waves and he steadied himself. 
“Are you going to use that on me, Matthew Joy?” The voice behind him startled a gasp from his lips. He swung the rifle around, aiming it at the same face he’d seen hours before. 
“You…” he whispered, keeping his rifle trained on her throat. Her eyes were the same green as before, only this time he could see them more clearly. The sun had fully set but colors remained in the sky above her head, bloody purples and such. He couldn’t see her body below the water but he saw that her shoulders were bare save the scattered pearls stuck to her skin like freckles. 
“Are you going to shoot me?” She whispered back, her face inches from the barrel of the rifle. He licked his lips before speaking.
“Where… where did you go? You disappeared…” he muttered darkly, flicking his eyes up to the deck where his crewmates continued to work. He was alone with the girl. 
“I had to see what you were like,” she offered a small smile. Matthew adjusted the way he held the gun, still aimed at her. 
“You asked me if I believed in Sirens…” Matthew remembered warily, his eyes trailing over the pearls across her chest. Her dark hair rested behind her shoulders, down her back. 
“Do you?” She asked and reached up her hands slowly, holding the edge of the small boat. He stared at her, his breath clouding the metal scope on his gun. 
“Is that what you are?” He asked finally and the girl smiled once again. 
“Is it quite shocking?” She teased and bit her lip timidly. 
“Well… yes,” Matthew exhaled and raised his eyebrow, “I thought they were only in stories. They weren’t real… Why didn’t you sing?”
The girl cocked her head to the side. The air felt heavy between them as he waited for her response. His body was confused and frightened, something he’d rarely felt before. His instinct and desire clashed, strengthening the opposing forces within him.  
“I don’t want to kill you,” she answered honestly, “we sing to kill.” 
Matthew lowered his gun and nodded, breathless. 
“You had legs. You didn’t look… ” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and ran his hand over his mouth. He could see the top of her fin break through the water. It was a beautiful silver color and her scales were shiny and iridescent. 
“I wanted to see how you would treat me. I disguised myself as a human girl and you treated me gently.”
“What do you want from me? You had to keep me alive for some reason,” Matthew sat down on a plank of seating and rubbed the waterducts of his eyes. 
“Nothing more than just to know you. I’ve watched your crew from the sea for weeks. You are a good, kind man.” 
Matthew looked up from between his fingers and exhaled slowly, lowering his guard only slightly. 
“Then what does this mean? How do you want to… know me?” He furrowed his brow and sat back once again on the plank of wood. Her hands tipped the boat slightly so that she could come a little closer to the sailor. 
“Come closer, please…” she whispered and rose onto her elbows, her face a few inches from Matthew’s. Matthew stared at her lips, rosey pink and plump. She smelled like sea salt and clean things. Ever so slowly, Matthew closed the distance between them, his eyes staying on her lips. 
“Y/N…” He tried to restrain himself as he whispered but eventually, as she stared up at him with her beautiful curtained eyes, he kissed her. It had been years since he’d actually kissed a woman. Kissing was so different than fucking. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it, the softness of it. Her hands inched up his blouse, beneath his overcoat, grabbing at his lapels. His hands found the sharp edges of her jaw, meeting her mouth with a more fervent kiss. She tasted lightly of salt, like seaspray against rocks. He devoured her flavor as though it were precious, forbidden. He twisted his fingers into her hair that felt dry despite being in the water, moaning against her lips. 
“In what other ways do you want to know me?” He muttered against her lips, his eyes closed. Her fingers ran over his neck, down to the dip between his collarbones. 
“I want to know every part of you,” she smiled and moved away, allowing the light from the deck to illuminate her figure below him in the water. Matthew hid a choked sigh as his eyes trailed over her body below the waves. Her body was decorated with pearls and scraps of white cloth. Instead of a tail, she now had two legs that beat the water to keep her afloat. 
“Will you take me into your boat?” She asked softly and Matthew nearly forgot to respond, caught in a state of disbelief. He cleared his throat and scooped his hands beneath her arms, pulling her into the boat in one movement. Standing above him on two legs, she looked even more beautiful than she had hours earlier. He could see the buds of her nipples through the white fabric, surrounded by pearls and strands of seaweed. Her cunt was hidden behind a swath of wet fabric but he could still see the dark shape of pubic hair. He looked back up at her face, his lips having fallen apart in amazement. The Siren laughed softly and carded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back slightly as she did. 
“Lay me down,” she requested and smiled when he immediately wrapped his hands around her waist and flipped her over where she could lie flat on the bottom of the harpoon boat. The planks were far enough away to give him space to kneel above her. He supported himself above her, studying the contours of her body, plump and full. She twisted her fingers through his hair again and pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. 
“Now make love to me, Matthew Joy.” 
He was already hard when she cupped her hand against his pants. It had been a while since he’d slept with a woman after months at sea. His body ached as badly as if he were a teenage boy again, not an aging man. He was throbbing as he moved the fabric on her cunt aside and lowered his head between her thighs. Looking up at her, he ran his tongue against her, tasting her. She hummed and shook with nerves. 
A roving, a roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-in
I'll go no more a roving
With you fair maid!
Feeling emboldened by her reaction, Matthew licked her again and rubbed his nose against her clit. She was wet against his tongue and he licked his lips greedily. His cock started to throb as she whimpered and moaned beneath his mouth. Her hand pulled tightly at his hair but he loved the pain and worked his mouth harder into her cunt. 
“Now, please now!” She begged him as she started to shake with pleasure. Taking the hint, Matthew undid his trousers and pushed them down to his knees. His face was still wet with her precum as he pulled out his cock and inserted himself quickly. She spasmed around him, her hands moving to grip the sides of the boat for leverage. His thighs clenched as he thrusted into her, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He leaned closer to her chest and rocked into her neck as he fucked her. 
“Oh you don’t know how long it’s been, love,” he sighed against her neck. “Is it ok?”
She nodded emphatically and pulled him closer by the back of his jacket, moving him deeper inside her. They both gasped out. He pulled his face away to watch her, still fucking her. 
“Beautiful. Pretty pretty creature you are,” he praised her as he trailed a finger down her cheek. Her thighs bounced against his as he pulled her legs around his waist. The boat shook around them. He slipped his tongue around the mound of her breast beneath the cloth, making more moans escape the girl’s mouth. He slipped the fabric aside with one finger and looking up to watch her face, he pressed his mouth around a nipple and sucked. Immediately, her body pulled into his, her back arching off the curved bottom. 
I'll go no more a roving
With you fair maid!
“Matthew…” she gasped as her muscles tightened and her bare feet flexed. He rolled his tongue around her nipple while his hand moved to hold her neck lightly, supporting her head. She cried out silently, her eyes screwed shut as if she were in pain. He dragged his tongue along her sternum to her neck and sucked at the flesh there. Her breathing evened out and she pulled his face to hers once again. 
“Do what you want with me. Get what you need from me,” the seriousness of her command sent a spasm of pleasure into his cock, still inside her. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes. I want you to use me,” she whispered and spread her legs farther. Matthew looked at her for a second before smiling. 
“Fuck, love. I think I’ll fall in love with you,” he chuckled softly and brushed his hand across her cheek. 
“And so what if you do, sailor? Hasn’t everyone else done the same at some point?” 
Matthew raised an eyebrow and kissed her, dragging her hands out above her head. Pressing her hands down into the boat, he began to thrust slowly into her, his hips still rebounding off of her pelvis. 
“You’re going to stay right here, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you again.” 
The girl smiled and broke into a moan as he shortened his thrusts, keeping himself as far inside her as he could. He went slowly so he could feel the orgasm clearly as it came over him, making his cock feel swollen with seed. Her hips shook wildly as she began to lose control over her orgasms. He watched her orgasm and released a wave of contractions around him. Smiling, he finally began to speed up as she whimpered beneath him.
“Fuck, yes… fuck… yes!” He muttered breathlessly as he felt his cock start to twitch before his orgasm. She tightened around him, pulling him deeper and drawing a guttural groan from his throat. His shoulders shook with effort as he allowed his orgasm to explode, cumming inside the girl and sending waves of relief through his system. He pulled out slowly and kissed down her stomach, savoring the heat of her skin against his lips. She caught her breath as he lapped at her swollen cunt. She was still shaking from her orgasms and whined when his tongue overstimulated her. He cleaned her out and nibbled at the skin on the inside of her thighs. 
“It’s time for me to go.” 
Matthew looked up at her and furrowed his brow, “so soon?” 
The girl nodded and sat up to face him. 
“I’ll be back, I promise.” She smiled shyly and rubbed her nose against his. 
“Where do you go… I mean where do you go while we’re aboard?” He stumbled over his words, still catching his breath. 
“Here,” she offered no further clarification as Matthew gave her a questioning look. She pressed her hand against his cheek and laughed. 
“Don’t worry about where I go, sailor. The sea is my home.”
Matthew kissed her hastily as he redid his pants and pulled his suspender straps back over his shoulders. She stood and kissed him once more before she stepped over the edge and dropped into the water. In seconds she was resurfacing with her silver tail. 
“Let me ask you one thing,” Matthew stopped her before he could leave, “are you real? Was that real?” He gestured to the bottom of the boat and the girl laughed brightly. 
“Be wary, sailor. You might just lose your mind."
Matthew nodded and watched as she backed away and dove into the dark water beyond the reflection of light from the deck. Moments later, a whistle sounded and he was called to return to the ship. Forcing himself to look away from the place where the girl disappeared, he felt the familiar material of his old coat that he had wrapped around the girl earlier on the plank beside him, folded and damp.
...
End of Pt. 2!
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rosieofcorona · 10 months
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All We Do Not Say
Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕
There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 
In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 
At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 
But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.
Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 
Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 
Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.
It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 
It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.
That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 
Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 
No trees, no light. No sky. 
Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 
He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 
On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.
Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 
He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 
Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 
Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 
It starts the same way every time. 
Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 
He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 
Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 
A voice comes to him out of the darkness.
“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 
“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.
“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 
“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 
She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 
It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.
Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 
Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 
“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  
“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 
There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 
Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 
“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”
“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 
It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 
She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 
“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 
“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 
Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”
“If you’ll allow me.” 
Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 
“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 
“Like this?” “Like that.” 
The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 
He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 
Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 
Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 
The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…
“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”
“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 
She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 
Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?
Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 
“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 
“Do you want me to stay up with you?”
Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 
He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”
“And how long is that?”
“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 
He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 
A focus worth holding, at last. 
“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 
“None at all.” 
Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  
Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.
For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 
“Thank you, Gale.”
Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.
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flowercrowngods · 6 months
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It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
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mfdragon · 5 months
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Full credit to this post by @loralbott for the idea! It was just so hilarious I had to give it a go myself ✨
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twice-inamillion · 8 months
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The Company
Interlude 1
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Smut and Story Building 
1,185 Words
(A small timeskip. Will be introducing some new characters and imporant events) 
It’s been a couple of months since you and Jessica hooked up. The weekend was one of many nights that the two of you spent together. At first, she made the excuse of visiting IU and Taeyeon and would try to get a quick one before meeting them. You know her trick and obviously didn’t reject the offer. Instead, you made sure to pump a load or two before she left to meet her friends. 
————
With two confirmed groups for the company, you took some time to get to know them without exposing your position as CEO. You came up with a false position as a trainer/staff to better know some of the trainees before their official debut. 
Your assistants were fine with the idea since it gave you a chance to be involved in their bi-weekly evaluation process, but not most felt that way. There were some staff that were a bit stressed by your presence by having the CEO breathing down their back. You assured them that they could act normally and that your focus was on the trainees.
After the first week, their stress disappeared due to how involved you were with the trainees. They enjoyed watching you become a backup dancer, even cheering you as you took off your shirt. 
“Wow, such a hot body!”
You turned around to catch the person who yelled that but only saw the girls holding their laugh. 
“Alright, let’s end this here. Good job, girls,” says one of the female trainers. 
You return to the seats and grab a towel to wipe yourself off. Through the large room-sized mirror, you see someone eyeing you, biting her lip as you dry your face. 
“Jennie unnie, let’s go. We need to head out and get to class,” says the girl next to her. The girls gather their bags and rush out the door. 
“CEO nim, sorry for the rude comment the girls made. I’ll talk to them later today,” says the female trainer.
“Don’t worry about it. They’re just being playful. No harm done.”
“Thank you for being so understanding.”
“Also, what's the girl’s name again?” pretending not to know her.
“Her name is Kim Jennie, aka Jennie.”
Later that day, while waiting in the cafeteria line, you get a feeling of someone eyeing you and notice it’s Jennie sitting across the room with four other girls. You grab your food, take your tray to an empty table, and begin eating. That feeling of someone watching you continues throughout lunch, even as you pass by them to return your tray. 
You change your outfit, return to your office, and pull up the group’s file:
Group A:
Kim, Jisoo
Kim, Jennie
Cho, Miyeon
Park, Chaeyoung 
Manobal, Lisa
Group B:
Irene
Kang Seulgi
Son Wendy
Park Joy
You look at Jennie’s file and see numerous comments stating that she has an ‘It girl” factor based on her looks, language, rapping skills, and stage presence. Many state they have hopes for her in the group. You look at her pictures and videos from her evaluations and can’t help but want to get to know her. After much thinking, you decide to make her your new toy as you close her file.
————
You leave the practice room, walk towards the hallways, and see Irene. You stop, look through the window slot, and see her together with her future girl group. You watch as she stands in front of the group, plays the music, and gets into formation. 
“They’re good. Irene chose some good members.” 
You take out your phone and take a quick snap but forget to turn off the flash; Irene turns her head and sees your apologetic face. She runs to the door and opens it, yelling at you to go away. You run and turn the corner, laughing out loud as some of the staff members look at you with worried expressions, as they have never seen the CEO act this way. 
————-
Throughout the next week weeks, you notice Jennie throughout the company or calling you to move some furniture around when the rest of the members are not around, and you’re surprised by the way she talks to you so comfortably, “Oppa, can you move that over there? Is to heavy for me” as she pouts. “Sure, don’t worry about it” carrying some heavy boxes from one corner of the living room and into another. You tell yourself that you shouldn’t have played the staff role since you’ve been busy recently, but you can’t blow your cover, so instead, you suck it up for a bit longer. 
“Here, that’s it. Anything else?”
“No.” She comes close to you and touches your biceps, “You’re so strong, oppa. Do you work out a lot?”
“I do work out a bit here and there” as you flex your muscles. She claps and says, “Wow, does that mean you’re strong?”
You pick her front her waist with much ease, making her yelp from the surprise, and say, “Wait, what are you doing?” You spin her around once, then hear the door open and see the other four members enter the apartment. Immediately, you put her down, and the both of you pretend that nothing happened, but the girls see Jennie’s reaction and can’t help but laugh. 
“Alight, I’ll take my leave if there is nothing else for me to do.” 
“Jennie, don’t you want to say goodbye to oppa?”
Jennie turns red and covers her face from the teasing of her members as you exit their apartment. 
—————
You get a phone call and see that it's from Jessica. When you answer the phone, you can hear her upset, almost crying. “Jessica, what’s wrong?” There is a short silence and a cry until she finally speaks up, “Can you pick me up?” Worried you let her know that you’ll be there in a couple of minutes in front of her apartment. 
When you arrive, you see that she is waiting by the entrance of the building with a small suitcase and bag. She comes in a hurry, so you quickly open the door and load her items inside. You arrive at your apartment and settle her things down; you offer her something to drink as she sits on the couch. “Would you like something to drink?” She gives it some thought and eventually says, “I think I’ll go for a tea.” You’re surprised by her choice since she normally gets some wine whenever she visits. 
You hand over the drink and sit next to her, asking her what’s wrong and why she’s so upset. She breaks down and says repeatedly that it’s not fair. “What do you mean by it’s not fair? What happened?”
“The company and the girls are kicking me out of the group.” 
“What? Why?”
Jessica stands up and undoes her thick coat, revealing a small bump. In a panic, you say, “Are you…”
She nods and says, “Yes, I’m pregnant.”
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paperultra · 1 year
Text
game.
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader Word Count: 701 words Warnings: Swearing
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“He's going to embarrass himself.”
You tilt your head back to look up at Geto, moving the grass stem between your teeth to the side so you can speak unhindered. “Why don’t you go and help him out, then?”
Geto makes a show of humming thoughtfully.
“Nah,” he says.
Next to him, Shoko takes a picture with her phone.
You follow the gaze of the camera back to the scene in front of you, repositioning the grass stem between your teeth once more. Your eyes narrow. Though you’d sooner drop out of Jujutsu High than admit it, you’re just as bitter as you are unamused by what you’re seeing.
Gojo Satoru is flirting with a girl. Again.
His hands are in his pockets, sunglasses perched low on his nose, hair wild and blindingly white under the afternoon sky. He says something and the girl nods; he grins wider and talks some more.
To the average person, it seems like his chances of getting her number are close to one hundred percent. The three of you know better.
“How long until he fucks it up, you think?” you ask.
“As soon as he sees a chance to make a dick joke,” Geto replies.
“If it’s clever, she might think it’s funny,” Shoko says.
You grunt.
Gojo and the girl talk for a few more minutes. Finally, the girl stands, bids goodbye, and leaves. Gojo watches her for a few minutes and then turns around to start the short trek back to where you’re all waiting.
“He fucked it up.”
Geto, ever the loyal best friend, meanders over to meet him halfway. “Satoru! What happened this time? Relied too much on your pretty face?”
Gojo pouts as the other boy slaps him on the back. “She said she already has a boyfriend.”
“Damn. What did you say?”
Gojo pouts even more, which is never a good sign.
“Hey.” You take the grass out of your mouth and toss it back into the bushes. “What did you say?”
“… If they ever break up, she should call me.” Gojo puts his infinity up when you throw a rock at him. “It was a joke! I was joking!”
“Holy shit, you have no game,” you say, getting up to jab him in the cheek. You fail, of course, and Gojo sticks his tongue out at you like a child. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because, like I just said, it was a JOKE.”
“That’s not a joke! It’s something an asshole would say!”
“Well, fuck, since you know everything about what to say, why didn’t you try to ask for her number?”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.” You hear a camera go off and whip around to snap at Shoko. “Stop taking pictures!”
She stares at you blankly. Geto snickers, and you slowly deflate as the stupidity of the situation catches up to you.
With a huff, you cross your arms.
“Idiot,” you grumble.
“You’re so mean for no reason,” complains Gojo.
“You’re stupid for no reason.” Pushing past him, you finally feel a rush of satisfaction when your shoulder knocks against his. “Now let’s go. I’m starving.”
He easily catches up to stride alongside you, simpering. “Oh, so that’s why. You’re not being fed on time.”
“Shut up.”
“Or are you jealous that I was flirting with someone?”
Every muscle in your body stiffens up. You glare at him. “What?! N-No, of course not.”
“Liar,” Gojo replies, baby blue eyes wide with delight. “Aw, that’s cute, being so shy about it.”
“I’m mad because we’re supposed to be eating by now.”
“If you want me to pay more attention to you, all you have to do is say please.”
“Please shut the fuck up.”
“No.”
The entire way to the restaurant, you keep your hands glued over your ears, face boiling as Gojo throws his lanky arm over your shoulders and pesters you with a shit-eating grin. Geto and Shoko make a point to walk behind the two of you and do nothing about it. In fact, you’re certain they think it’s hilarious.
You groan underneath your breath. You need to get new friends.
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