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#of these like three of them actually have names
omgthatdress · 3 days
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Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.
If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.
I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.
Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.
I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).
One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.
Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.
However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.
Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.
Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.
I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.
Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:
Palestinian Children's Relief Fund
Palestine Red Crescent Society
United Nations Relief Works Agency
Islamic Relief
World Central Kitchen
Médecins Sans Frontièrs
One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going
These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.
As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.
Be careful out there.
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rin-may-1103 · 3 days
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College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row.
My take on this prompt Requested by @purplereaderfans
Danny looked up from his paper, a bright green crayon clutched in his small hand. Jazz patted his head with a quick smile, pushing her chair in so she could start making her way to the teacher, something about the wrong definition if Danny had heard what she'd been muttering correctly.
grumbling, Danny shook his head in an attempt to fix his hair. he hated how everyone was treating him like a child, he was sixteen, almost seventeen for Ancient's sake!
sure, he looked like he was three, but was this really necessary? head pats, baby talk, dumbed-down explanations; it's like they don't notice that he's still mentally a teenager. Like, seriously?
Mom and Dad had been the ones who created the damn device, they should know how to fix this, but did they? no, because; "Aww, Jack, look at him! Isn't our baby boy just the cutest!" and "Why yes, dear, we should get more pictures! It's not like every day a parent gets to witness their kid's toddler years again!"
danny hated it, even Vlad was treating him like a baby! Danny never wanted to hear the man try and speak to him like that again. it might actually be his new nightmare fuel, you know if he wasn't still using what happened with Dan and Pariah to fuel his consistent nightmares, that is.
Danny was ready to start blasting people's knees the next time someone so much as even hinted at dressing him up again. thankfully, for everyone's safety, Jazz noticed he was still mentally normal. She volunteered to take care of him while their parents worked on a way to reverse what their new ghost machine caused. (though he doubted it would be anytime soon, considering the GIW was acting up again.)
which, by the way, apparently wasn't supposed to have de-aged him, but in fact, just you know, 'barrow' his naturally made ectoplasm and knock him out for a few minutes. Ancients, his parents were insane.
he should have known they were going to do something stupid, but no; he had started slacking after revealing his phantom form and getting accepted by them. Because, again, why would he need to keep an eye on them and what they make when they promised to never try and hurt him and his normal rogues again?
they're adults, they should know how to handle themselves. but no.
oh, ho ho, was that such a big oversight on his part. they were Fenton's, of course, he should have kept an eye on them.
no longer making ecto weapons, his parents wanted to learn how to help peacefully capture raging ghosts and how to help heal the injured ones (mostly how to help Danny when he gets hurt). Noble, right?
right?
Wrong. somehow, they managed to create a de-aging device when they were trying to come up with a way to knock out an angry ghost without hurting them. How? Just how?? and what do they do without even testing to see if it would even work? use it on him. because, oh, danny's half ghost, and it's only supposed to make him tired right now, not knock him out. it should be fine.
and now he's a toddler.
a three-year-old toddler.
"psst!" someone hissed, dragging danny's attention away from his crumbled crayon. blinking, Danny dropped the crayon on the table and grumbled. this was the seventh crayon this morning, he really needed to get his strength under control before someone noticed.
"psst, hey kid!" they hissed again, making Danny sigh. turning his head, Danny glared at the weird dude who kept trying to talk to him. The dude usually talked to him like he was an adult, which Danny appreciated, if it wasn't for the fact the dude was hellbent on figuring out danny's secrets.
all because Danny scored more than him on a dumb test.
"What?" Danny grumbled, wiping the crayon crumbs off his hands and onto his pants. the dude, Danny thinks his name is Tam or something, frowned at Danny, watching him wipe the last of the obliterated crayon away.
"aliens," he hisses, leaning forward so he could stare more intently into Danny's eyes. "that has to be it, you and your sister are aliens. probably from some planet that's more advanced than ours."
danny blinked, studied the dude for a second, and blinked again.
"no," turning back, Danny grabbed another crayon and started filling out the worksheet in front of him, making sure to use as little of his super strength as possible.
the dude groaned and slammed his head onto his desk, the sound echoing out and around the silent room like a gunshot. Jazz snorted, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "that one has got to be one of the worst theories yet," she chuckled, turning her body to face the dude.
"you seriously can't believe my brother and I are aliens just because we got higher test scores, Tim." Jazz explained, casually leaning sideways in her seat so she could see him.
the dude, Tim, just groaned, slamming his head back into the desk, his voice muffled, "I wouldn't have a problem with it if it was just you," Tim lifted his head, glaring at him as Danny continued to carefully fill out his worksheet. "I can accept the fact that I'm not the smartest person in the room, I don't like it, but I can do it. I even respect it, having this much knowledge takes a lot of work and dedication, but him?"
"He's three, Jazz. he should be just starting to figure out the names of colors, and noticing differences between things. not astrophysics-level math questions from an April Fools gag test that our Psychology teacher jokingly gave us." Tim's eyes somehow got even narrower as he continued his rant. Danny valiantly tried to keep himself from laughing; Jazz said it was rude to laugh at people, especially if they weren't mentally all there, so he couldn't laugh.
but by the ancients was Tim making it hard.
with a fianl dash, danny smiled triumphantly. Setting the crayon down, he gave the paper a quick once over before deciding he was finally done filling it out.
now, for the moment he was waiting for; turning in his seat, Danny excitedly held up his paper, "Look jazz! I did it!" he had finally managed to complete the paper without ripping the page! and he'd only broken seven crayons! it was progress! there was hope! but Tim didn't need to know that, no, he needed to think Danny was excited about completing the paper.
Jazz, who was just as much of a gremlin as Danny, smiled as she patted his head, "Good job Danny! I'm so proud of you! why don't you go turn it in, I'm sure Mr. Kronmatil would love to see it."
smiling, Danny turned, climbed out of his seat, and started to make his way over to the teacher.
Tim grumbled in annoyance, his crazed theories and curses filling Danny's ears like the sweet sweet sound of music. if there was one good thing that came out of this whole fiasco, it was that Danny was able to work on his studies and cause as much chaos as possible while doing so.
being treated like a baby was all worth it when Danny turned and spotted the same confused and crazed look Tim had been giving him all week. yes, being de-aged wasn't fun, and he didn't appreciate being partially interrogated every time he entered the same room as Tim, but man it was so worth it when he knew he was driving one of the Gotham bat's nuts.
all because he scored higher than him on a test.
He couldn't wait to see Tim's face once the scores were announced tomorrow. He was so going to tell Lady Gotham all about it later.
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mandarinmoons · 1 day
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hi! i have an idea ive been thinking about for a while. spencer and the team (plus reader) are at a bar and reader goes off to get a drink/dance/talk to someone and either a girl or a group of girls come up to spencer and start flirting with him. the first thing she/they ask ofc is "do you have a girlfriend?" and spencer (not realizing they are flirting) is like yes!!! her name is _____ and she is amazing and i love her so much.... and he goes on like a 20 minute rant about reader. reader finally finds him talking to these girls/girl and has to recuse them/her from his ranting about herself and explain what they actually meant.
sorry that was a lot but i wanted to make sure understood what i was envisioning. thank you so much!!!
“Spence, please!”
Spencer kept pulling you closer as he tried to nuzzle his way into your neck and leave a few kisses behind your ear. He wasn’t one for PDA, but after a few shots he was puddy in your hands and everyone had to witness what a mess you made of him in this state.
“I just wanna be close to you,” you could feel him pout as his lips were pressed against your neck, his thumbs rubbing over your waist.
“Looks like you’re not getting out of here anytime soon, huh pretty girl?”
Derek chuckled as he took pleasure seeing his younger brother of a coworker finally have a girlfriend, especially with how clingy he was being at the moment. It was as if Spencer would follow you if you were to leave for only a minute, which he had done approximately half an hour ago when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow he still had enough brainpower to talk about how hand-dryers could actually spread more germs and not remove them. He’d even taken it upon himself to take some paper towels and dry your hands for you, making sure to even dry the spaces between your fingers.
You had had only one drink and you were not going home unless you had a second one. Spencer had already downed three in that time, and looking at the state that he was in, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get served any more tonight.
“Spence, I'm going to get a quick drink, okay? Stay here.”
Prying his hands off of you, you quickly slipped out of Spencer’s grasp before he managed to put his hands on your waist again.
A few minutes later, Penelope pulls Derek to the dance floor while Emily comes across an old friend and excuses herself to have a word with her, leaving Spencer all by himself at the booth, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth while fidgeting with his fingers. He was too deep in thought that he didn’t notice a group of girls come over and sit next to him, their intentions clearly not innocent.
“Hi! You’re here all alone?”
“Oh, I’m not! I’m here with my girlfriend and team mates!”
“I don’t see any girlfriend around.”
“She went to get a drink. Oh, she loves an aperol spritz, she’s got great taste, in general not just in drinks.”
The girls watched in amazement as Spencer kept talking about every small thing he could come up with about you, from your favorite color and the psychological meaning behind it to your Myers Briggs personality type and how you’re both compatible.
As the endless line at the bar finally came to an end and you managed to get your drink, walking back to the team’s spot you noticed the unfamiliar girls surrounding Spencer and your stomach churned in nerves. The closer you got however you noticed their bored and confused faces and that’s all you needed to know that Spencer had most probably pulled his book smarts out on them and left them speechless.
“Oh and this one time- Y/N, you’re back!”
Spencer pulled you in for a hug, nearly knocking the drink out of your hands. Managing to put it down on the table, you rested your hand on his back as you turned your attention to the strangers, them clearly on the edges of their seats and ready to bolt at any moment.
“We’re gonna go, nice to meet you both.”
Your eyes followed them as they quickly got up and made their way to the other side of the bar, even from a distance you could see the red hue on their cheeks, embarrassment written all over their faces.
“Spence, what did they want?”
“They came over and asked if I had a girlfriend.”
“That’s it?”
Spencer nodded as he nuzzled into your stomach, “And I talked about how great you are and how I’m going to marry you one day.”
Laughter erupted from your mouth as you heard the answer, also because of Spencer’s fingers practically digging into your sides that it was tickling you.
“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s what they meant by that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Usually when someone asks “Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?”, it’s their way of asking “Are you single?”
Spencer blinked his eyes, your words not yet registering in his head.
“They were flirting with you.”
“Oh… really?”
Nodding along, the conversation was put on halt as everyone made their way back to the table.
“You guys had to leave him alone, huh?”
“Why? What happened?”
“Some girls came up to Spencer and tried to hit on him.”
“Oh, pretty boy’s got game now, huh?”
The team chuckled, but Spencer kept burrowing his head more into your embrace. It was clear that no matter how many girls tried their luck with him it would inevitably fail, as you were his home that he would come back to every time.
You can find my masterlist here!
Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3
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hwaslayer · 2 days
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vivrant thing (jwy) | three.
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—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST
—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 
—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader
—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut
—WORD COUNT: 6.6k
—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, dinner w/ yeosang!, feelings are laid out oof, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, a bit more of jiwoo vs. wooyoung, use of pet names (princess, love, baby girl, baby), lots and lots of kissing, making out, mentions of marking, some dry humping, unprotected sex, slow sweet sex??, wooyoung pulls out 🫢
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So, you agree to the dinner with Yeosang but you don't expect how terrible it ends up playing out.
At first, it starts off well.
It felt like dinner wouldn't be so bad, and you enjoyed seeing Yeosang being his usual self from the car ride up to the restaurant. When he pulls into a spot in the parking lot and helps you out of the car, there is a bit of a difference in Yeosang's attitude. He slides his hand into yours as he leads the way into the restaurant and as much as you adore your bestfriend, it feels incredibly unnatural. 
It surely doesn't feel like Wooyoung's, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.
He continues to loosely hold your hand until the host brings you to a table near the back end of the restaurant. You didn't think tonight's dinner would be so fancy, but you were in your business casual attire straight out of work; it ended up working out well in the end. You scoot into the booth, with Yeosang on the other side. He immediately orders a bottle of white wine, which isn't really to your liking as you've learned, but you'll make do with what you have— especially to get through this dinner.
You order appetizers along with your main courses, indulging in good conversation with Yeosang as he tells you work updates and how he's being dragged to this really important meeting over the weekend with the board of directors by his team lead. 
It's all good. It's all fun and casual, until it isn't.
Meanwhile, Jiwoo stops by her brother's apartment to drop off some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant. It's her way of saying 'thank you' without actually having to say it out loud.
"What now?" Wooyoung swings his door open to see his sister standing there with a bag of food.
"Hi to you, too." She drops it on his kitchen counter. "Bought you food from Sushi Kashiwa." 
"Aw, just say it." He pretends to pout while she gives him a disgusted look and unties the bag.
"No. Besides, I bought myself some food and am gonna enjoy it right here." She lays out the containers and grabs her own. "My friends decided to leave me out of a very important dinner tonight."
"What are you talking about?" He pops open the lid to his sushi container and wastes no time digging in.
"Y/N went to dinner with Yeosang. I guess to talk about stuff going on between them, I don't know." Wooyoung pauses mid-chew, the statement hitting him right in his gut. He's not sure why he's sad— maybe he's right after all. Maybe this just ended up being a temporary one night thing that would eventually wash away.
Sucks it doesn't necessarily feel that way for Wooyoung.
He can't assume, though. Hopefully, you're talking to Yeosang and giving him the honest 'i think we should just stay friends' talk instead of the 'let's just see where this goes' talk. He'd appreciate the universe if it could give him this one thing; he'll stop running his parents' last nerve and will never look at a booty ever again.
Maybe.
"Oh." Is all Wooyoung says before stuffing another piece into his mouth. "Why would you even be there, Jiwoo? That doesn't concern you."
"Anything with my friends concerns me."
"Let them talk it out without your loud, nosey ass interrupting." She rolls her eyes, scrolling through her phone as she also continues to eat.
"I haven't gotten any new texts from her. I wonder if it's going well. Maybe they're gonna explore this after all."
"Who says?" Wooyoung responds a little too quickly, a little too sharply, for his liking. His sister doesn't seem to catch on, though. That's great.
"I dunno, beats me. I'm just taking all angles into consideration."
"Stop projecting. She seemed to be pretty set on her decision at the party."
"You never know." She says in a sing-song tone that irks Wooyoung a little more than usual this evening. "You're right, though. She is set on her decision. I just hope he takes it well." She sets her phone aside. "Anyway. How'd you like the party?"
"Gotta admit, it was fun."
"You really looked like Y/N's date. I had a few people ask me if you two were dating."
"Uh, I mean I was her date? And why would they ask when I already told them yes?" He jokes, just to push his sister's buttons.
"No way." Jiwoo continues to eat away at her food, texting Hongjoong in the midst of it. "Y/N is too good for you."
"No one is too good for anyone. Don't speak on shit you don't know."
"I know her!"
"And I know her, too!"
"I know her the best." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.
"Still doesn't mean you know everything about her."
"Ew, why are you getting so defensive tonight?" He shakes his head, feeling the irritation within him grow the more Jiwoo presses it. He knows he isn't the best man to walk this Earth, but he also knows he'd be good to you. Good for you. He's been thinking about it a lot and he hates that he is— none of this makes sense to him, but he knows he'd be good.
"Don't you have to go see Hongjoong?"
"Once he's off, yeah." Jiwoo sips on her water. "What're you doing tonight? Getting into more shit with Choi San?"
"No, he's actually visiting his parents."
"Hm." She hums. "No booty call coming over?"
"No. Even if there was, you would not be getting that information." She scoffs.
"Grow up, Wooyoung."
"Grow up, Wooyoung." He mocks her. "Says the one who made the wild claim based off of nothing."
"You're so annoying." She tosses her sushi container into his trash before washing her cup of water. Despite their usual bickering, Jiwoo stays for a bit longer until Hongjoong texts her and lets her know he's finally off of work after putting in some overtime. Jiwoo helps tidy up Wooyoung's space before she's waving goodbye [aka flipping him off] and slamming his door shut. Wooyoung plops back onto his couch with the remainder of his food resting on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone. He goes through your texts, wondering if he should say anything or keep silent. He smiles to himself when he sees the pictures you've passed along from the photographer. He sees you've posted the picture with him on your Instagram and it tugs at his heart because not only do you rarely use Instagram, but you took that opportunity to post your pictures from the party— including the one where you've got your hand resting on his chest while he has an arm around you. He was happy to see you happy and comfortable. Having fun. 
You glowed. 
He'll never forget it.
—OLD TEXTS
you: hi! they uploaded the pics from the party!
you: *sends a group of pics at once*
wooyoung: yo goddamn!? we look good!
wooyoung: you look so pretty. 😍
you: 😀 stop !!
wooyoung: i'm so serious, good LORD. 😮‍💨
you: i'm blocking you.....
wooyoung: woah now, hey i'm kiddddding....
wooyoung: not really! but don't block me! i just can't help it!
you: you're too much 😂
wooyoung: can i post these?
you: go for it!
wooyoung: thank you ☺️
He sighs as he reaches the end of the thread.
He won't say anything. He'll let this unfold as it should, but it doesn't mean he can't be sad about it. Cause he sure as hell is and he's a bit anxious. Hopefully, you'll tell Yeosang the truth. Hopefully, you won't force yourself into anything you don't want or feel uncomfortable with.
As for you, the dinner really takes its turn for the worse after you and Yeosang eat away at your main meals, a pregnant silence falling between you two after a good hour of just talking and yapping away about life. You already knew it was coming at this point, you were just hoping you'd buy a little more time [as if you could put it off even more]. 
"So." He says awkwardly to cut the silence.
"Mhm?"
"Did you really enjoy the party?"
"I did. Did you?"
"Yeah. I just—" He looks at you with his head cocked to the side. "I was just surprised seeing you with Wooyoung." You pause before poking at your pasta and taking a small bite. 
"Oh yeah, it was relatively last minute."
"Jiwoo's plan?"
"Why do you say that? Do you genuinely think Wooyoung wouldn't go with me?" You ask, a little offended at the way he sounds cause even though it was clearly planned and arranged, the insinuation from Yeosang doesn't hurt any less. 
"No, not like that— I'm sorry, it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. That's all." You cock a brow up. 
"It just happened that way. Wooyoung wanted to go and I wanted to go in the end." Is all you respond with, chugging your second glass of wine before pouring yourself more. You really don't like the taste of this white wine either, but you'll take it cause it's better than sitting here without an ounce of alcohol to push you through. Give you more courage to finish the evening on a decent note, to be honest. "I had a really fun time, regardless."
"I saw." He pauses. "I wish you would've at least told me instead of showing up like that." 
"I'm sorry."
"I think it's time for me to be honest and stop watching from the sidelines because I.. really like you, Y/N." His shoulders droop just as he sets his fork and knife down neatly onto the plate. You take the last bite of your meal before sipping on more wine to wash it down.
"I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you. Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't have changed anything."
"It wouldn't? Why wouldn't it have changed anything? I thought we might've had a chance." He's confused. He looks like he was expecting a completely different outcome, and that might've been your fault for not telling him right away. But, the moment is here now and you know you can't push it off any longer.
"No. I just.. I just can't, Yeo. I'm sorry." You barely get yourself to respond out of fear. You knew Yeosang wasn't the type to react— if anything, he'd be the most understanding. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you were still scared. You felt bad. You didn't want to hurt him, and you wanted to avoid this confrontation as much as possible even though you knew you needed to face it sooner than later. "I truthfully think we're good with where we're at, and I don't think we should mess that up. I love the way we are as good friends, bestfriends, and that's how I've always seen us." You can see the disappointment growing on his face every second, but he's trying hard to keep it under wraps while he briefly waves the waitress down for the check.
"C-can I ask? You can be honest." You silently nod. "Is it Wooyoung?" You shake your head.
"It was never about Wooyoung. Just us. Well, me. You're amazing, and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is sure about you and who will reciprocate those feelings to no end. I'm sorry that I can't be that person, but at the same time, I know I can be your friend just like I always have been. That's what I can give you, and I hope you understand." You tell him softly. "I'm sorry." You repeat, feeling the tears brimming your bottom lids. "I should've opened up earlier. I really hope this doesn't change things between us."
"It won't, but I hope you understand it'll take me some time to move past it. I'm sorry for assuming or for— yeah." He shakes his thoughts away.
"Take all the time you need." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.
"Anyway." Yeosang signs off on the receipt before tucking his card back into his wallet and standing. "Let's get you home."
"Okay." You shimmy out of the booth to head out of the restaurant. This time, Yeosang doesn't hold your hand. In fact, he trails behind you, keeping at a safe distance. You can immediately see the change— how stiff and awkward he's become. You don't blame him for it; he's hurting and you know he needs his space more than anything. 
You can't wait to get home.
The ride is fucking awful. It's the most quiet you've seen Yeosang. The most closed-off and serious he's ever been towards you. His hand is clutching the wheel tightly, but the music is comforting enough to fill the void. You continue to look out of the passenger's window, keeping to yourself until Yeosang asks about your plans for the rest of the weekend. There isn't much going on for you, so that conversation dies quickly. Luckily for you, Yeosang is about to pull up to your street. He stops the car by your building, shifting the gear to park before helping you out of the car. You give him a small, sympathetic smile before pulling him into a hug— giving his back a gentle rub.
"Sleep well, alright? I'll see you next week."
"You too." With that, he walks off, waiting until you at least unlock and crack your door open. When you get a whiff of your candle that you lit up earlier in the morning, you realize you don't really wanna stay home right now; to sulk, to drown in your thoughts alone, to have to listen to the loudness in a quiet space. So, you shut the door again, head back down the steps and walk to the convenience store nearby. You grab a bottle of yogurt soju, along with your favorite chips and strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar— plopping yourself down onto one of the tables right outside the store. You're quick to crack open the bottle and drink away, also eating away at the chips since you didn't feel incredibly satisfied with the dinner earlier. It might've just been all the emotions and tension in the air, but anywho, the chips and the soju taste better than ever. Sooner or later, you find yourself tipsier, cheeks lit on fire, hands clammy; barely hitting the halfway point with the soju bottle. You lazily scroll through your phone as you begin to eat away at the ice cream bar, revisiting those party pictures.
You wonder what Wooyoung is doing, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.
"Ugh." You whine and pout to yourself, pulling up your texts to see if Jiwoo can come to your rescue. You opted for listing Jiwoo and Wooyoung as Jung 1 and Jung 2 to keep it easy and simple; except, it obviously doesn't work well in this case when you accidentally pull up the text with Jung 2 instead of Jung 1 while you wipe away at the tears that suddenly begin to stream down your cheeks.
you: oof .... that dinner was kinda awful i feel terrible
you: kinda?! not even kinda it WAS awfullll
you: i'm sitting outside of our fav convenience store by my olace
you: eating strawberry cheesecake ice cfream!!
you: jiwooooooo
you: jung 1!!!!
Wooyoung furrows his brows at the constant dinging of his phone, unsure of who the hell could be blowing up his phone right now. He even sits for a minute, wondering if there's anybody he's pissed off in the last few days [besides his sister].
"Hm." He hums when he comes up with nothing, nobody. He picks up the phone and scrolls through the previews, chuckling to himself when he sees your name pop up on the screen. Clearly by accident.
you: jiwoo jung 1 pls help come to my rescue it was not good! idk if yeo n i will be friens still ☹️☹️☹️
wooyoung: sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but this is jung 2. 😙
wooyoung: also i won't hold it against you that i've been slotted as number 2 when i should be number 1 esp after the party. 🫤 but it's cool or whatever......
You squint at the brightness of your phone, slowly eating away at your strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar. You almost drop the damn thing when you realize you've actually been blowing up the wrong phone, horrified it had to be Wooyoung, too.
He must think you're a gem, truly.
He does, though. In a very good, non-sarcastic way.
you: omggg i'm so sorry wooyoung jung 2 ☹️
you: i mean jung 1 technically
wooyoung: lol no worries, don't be sorry. you okay?
you: yes but no?
wooyoung: stay put.
You cock a brow up in confusion, wondering if Wooyoung was telling you to stay put because he was on his way or because he just needed you to get yourself together. You listen anyway, sitting on the little chair outside of the convenience store, silently eating away at your ice cream with your phone lit on your lap. You completely forget about texting Jiwoo amidst all of this, assuming she's busy anyway. The wind is slowly picking up, cooling the tip of your nose and surface of your cheeks— settling the heat from the soju.  You shiver and run a hand down your arm, hoping the wind slows in between its waves. You continue to mindlessly scroll through your phone, even picking up your game of Wordle for the day. Just as you get lost in thought, a car parks in a spot in between your building and the convenience store. You look up as you bite into the last of your ice cream bar, hearing the muffled bass from the music in the car. Wooyoung steps out in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, a black beanie on his head. He approaches you with a small smile with his hands dug deep into his pockets, crouching to your level as he continues to look at you.
"W-Wooyoung." You hiccup as you sit on the bench, setting your trash down next to you. Wooyoung gives you a small smile, thumb wiping away at your tears.
"Wanna tell me why you've been out here eating ice cream alone?" He eyes your snacks of choice. "And.. a half bottle of soju and chips? I thought you had dinner with Yeosang."
"I did, and it was terrible and sad." You sniff. "Well, not the food. I just couldn't enjoy it as much. I even tried to drink that bitter white wine he ordered just to get me through."
"And you're drinking soju now? Really must have been that bad."
"Bad bad." You pout and he laughs.
"I'm sorry." He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before patting it. "Come on, let's get you home." He stands, holding out his hand. You gladly take it in yours, his thumb swiping over your knuckles in an attempt to try and warm it up. He grabs the soju and the chips in his other, leading the way to your building. He quietly heads up the steps, stepping aside and letting go of your hand to let you open your door. When you step back into the warmth of your studio, you instantly kick off your shoes and slip into your slippers—lighting up your candle to bring more heat into the room.
"I'm gonna set your chips and soju aside." Wooyoung says, tightly tying your chips close so it doesn't get stale before setting your bottle of soju aside in the fridge.
"Thank you." You set your bag down and let out a sigh.
"Glad I was able to get you home safely." He chuckles a bit, jingling his keys in his hand. You don't want Wooyoung to leave, especially after he made the effort to get dressed and come to your rescue.
"Wooyoung?" He cocks a brow up when you turn to face him. "Can you stay?" He takes a moment before he nods, unsure how he could turn you down with you looking up at him that way. 
So innocently. So delicately. Eyes yearning for company you can be comforted with, need to be comforted with.
"Yeah, of course. As long as you're okay with me poking around and making some food." You giggle and nod.
"Go for it." You grab your pajamas. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Feel free to get comfortable and flip through the channels." You turn on the TV for him before shutting yourself within the bathroom walls to shower and get comfy for the evening. 
As you shower and get ready for bed that evening, you hear Wooyoung humming and singing a Blackstreet song to himself in your kitchen. After brushing your teeth, you finish up the last of your skincare routine before heading back outside.
"Finally." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder and quickly scans you from head to toe. "I was getting lonely."
"I didn't even take that long."
"It was long. You and Jiwoo take the longest showers known to man." He frowns a bit, making you giggle to yourself. You plop on your couch, now in your oversized crewneck and pajama pants. You're no longer tipsy, probably a little too sober for your liking especially knowing Wooyoung is in your studio. You do find his company comforting, though. You feel bad he had to come and rescue you, but you'd rather be here than anywhere else after that dinner with Yeosang. You tuck your legs to your chest, flipping through the tv channels only to land on Kiki's Delivery Service. It's already 20 minutes in, but it doesn't bother you knowing the movie so well. Wooyoung is still going through your stash of food, pulling out a bowl of jajangmyeon. While he waits for the hot water to properly cook the noodles, he dices up some pickled radish and some cucumbers, and quickly boils two eggs to perfection. When the noodles are done, he sets everything into the bowl neatly before grabbing a cold water bottle and plopping onto the couch next to you.
"What'd you do today?" You look at him just as he starts digging into the bowl.
"Work. Then Jiwoo came earlier in the night with some food from my favorite Japanese spot."
"Sushi Kashiwa?"
"Aw, you know?" Wooyoung smirks.
"Because Jiwoo has mentioned it one too many times." You chuckle. "That's cute, though."
"She only did it cause she was waiting for Hongjoong to get out of work. And to kiss my ass about the party."
"And because she loves you." He fake shivers.
"Ew. Please don't say that again." He looks at you and you snort. "Want a bite? I made it for us to share in case you were still hungry." He edges his chopsticks your way, watching as you shake your head in response.
"I'm good. Thank you though, Woo."
"Suit yourself, princess. I whipped up a good one." You laugh, settling into the couch as you continue to watch the movie. Wooyoung catches you slipping your sleeves over your palms in his peripherals and although he's pretty warm and cozy in your studio, you must still feel cold. He hurriedly slurps up the remaining of the noodles before gulping the entirety of his water bottle down. He lets out a noise that makes you laugh, kicking his head back in satisfaction. "Damn, that was good."
"Glad you enjoyed." You poke his arm and he smiles. "Is this movie okay with you?"
"Yeah, of course. Can never go wrong with Studio Ghibli movies. Unless, you're down to watch something scary?"
"Never." 
"Why not? I'm here."
"But, whatever scary movie we'll watch, it'll live in my head for the next few days and you won't be here."
"I could be, you just have to call me and I'll come. Like tonight."
"Wooyoung." You pout. "Today's was an accident."
"So, you didn't want me to come? That's funny, cause I didn't see another text from you after I told you to stay put, baby girl." He smirks and you shake your head shyly.
"I'm sorry." You continue to fiddle with your sleeves.
"Don't be. I'm just teasing, I wanted to come."
"Thank you. I needed it." You finally manage to let out as you look at him and scooch a little closer. He gives you a tiny smile before shifting his attention back to the TV, the both of you engaging in small talk about the characters here and there.
At some point, Wooyoung subtly inches in and closes off any gaps, quietly slipping his arm behind you. You silently chuckle to yourself when you see him playing it off, acting as if he hadn't done anything to get closer to you. But, the whole thing feels.. nice. It feels safe. It feels warm. Wooyoung really isn't expecting anything out of this— he is testing the waters to see how comfortable you'd be with him, but that's truly it. That's the intention. Just to make you feel comfortable and better after tonight's dinner. He definitely wasn't expecting you to lean your head against him, snuggling up to him as closely as possible. 
"You okay? Comfortable?" He asks softly. You look up at him and nod, settling back into your position on him.
"Mhm. You're warm." He laughs a bit when he hears that, keeping you close. As the movie continues with the both of you watching silently, you find yourself shifting in your position; arm fully coming around Wooyoung's torso. He doesn't mind one bit. As a matter of fact, he loves that you've gotten comfortable enough to do so.
He drops his arm down from the edge of the couch, holding you from behind as the movie continues to play. He gently rubs at your side before his hand falls to your hips. You feel Wooyoung's hand gently squeeze at it before sneaking right underneath your sweater. You freeze, but more so because you're surprised by his touch— not because you don't want him to be right where he is.
"Are you feeling better?"
"I don't know. I just feel bad." You say, eyes still on the TV ahead while you slowly began to relax in his hold.
"You were honest with him, right?" Wooyoung asks as a simple way to poke for more information and get you to open up about dinner. "Wanna tell me how the dinner went?" He traces faint, soft circles on your bare side.
"I was, and I guess that's why I feel bad. It started off fine. We went to the restaurant and we were talking as we always do. Random topics, jokes, going on about life updates. It went downhill when we got our food. It was quiet for a little bit and I knew he was thinking about what to say or how to say it." You pause. "He asked if I enjoyed the party. I said yes, then he asked if it was Jiwoo's plan." Wooyoung cocks a brow.
"What'd you say?"
"I got kinda defensive." You sigh, leaving out the whole moment of you asking Yeo if he thought Wooyoung wouldn't genuinely go to a party with you. "But anyway, I said you wanted to go.. and so did I. And I had a fun time with you."
"Atta girl." He laughs a bit. "And then?"
"He apologized and said he just wished I told him instead of surprisingly showing up. Then.. he laid it out. Said he had feelings for me and couldn't watch on the sidelines anymore. He felt like there could've been a chance, which was probably my fault for keeping that door open for too long." You sit up and face him, Wooyoung's arm still lazily holding you from behind. "I told him that even if I told him about the party beforehand, it wouldn't have changed anything because I couldn't. I liked us the way we were and that we were good as bestfriends. He deserved someone who was sure of him and who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly."
"Then, you didn't do anything wrong, Y/N." You shrug before subconsciously grabbing a piece of lint on Wooyoung's hoodie and flicking it off. 
"He asked something else."
"Which was?"
"He asked if this was about you, a-and I said no." You avoid eye contact and lick your lips out of nervousness. 
"I see." Wooyoung smiles a bit before shifting up in his seat to get closer to you. He leans his cheek onto the palm of his hand, his arm that was behind you is now on the back of the couch— elbow resting on the edge. "Why can't you look at me?" He smirks teasingly.
"I am." You look at him for a minute before shifting your eyes elsewhere in the living room. 
"Was it really not about me, hm?" He hums, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You can tell me, love." He tries to pull you closer by the hand, and you let him.
"Can I?" His eyes quickly shift to the way you play around with his fingers.
"Course."
"Maybe it was."
"Just maybe?" He looks at your lips. "You think that's why you feel bad?" Brief pause. "That you might actually have feelings for me and you couldn't tell him that part?"
"Maybe." You repeat, his lips only inches away from yours. "Isn't that kinda silly?"
"No? I still don't think you did anything wrong, Y/N."
"Really, Woo?" There you go asking him so sweetly again. It's at this point when Wooyoung feels like he can no longer contain himself because you're giving him the answer he had been looking for; straight on a silver platter. 
"Mhm. As far as I know, you were honest when it came to him. What's between us is our business and not his." He says, his tone just barely above a whisper. You don't really know what comes over you, maybe you did have a little bit of liquid courage still running through your veins especially cause what happens next catches you slightly off-guard. You're so sure about your feelings for him, but unsure about Wooyoung's and how he even feels. This could all be a game that he plays, something he does with other women even if he says it isn't.
Guess it doesn't matter much right now. Can't, anyways.
Within the next second, you find yourself initiating the first kiss with Wooyoung; a kiss that feels long overdue. You lean forward and press your lips against his own soft, plump lips, quickly pulling back to get ready and apologize—
But, he doesn't let you. 
He chases after you.
He cups your cheeks and brings you back, thumb gently caressing the surface of your cheek. You haven't kissed someone like this in awhile, but with Wooyoung, it feels.. right. 
Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.
He tries to take it slow with you, even when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around him. The kiss becomes more heated, lips bruising from the rising intensity, hunger. Wooyoung slowly slips his tongue in, and hearing a small whimper from you in response only has him gripping your hips harder.
He quickly learns he likes kissing you.
"Been waiting to do this." He says against your lips.
"Have you?" You ask, your tone filled with lust as you continue to peck him with small, repeated kisses.
"Just didn't wanna scare you away."
"You wouldn't have."
"Have to be extra careful with you, baby. You aren't just anybody." The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily that it makes your head tilt back as the desire builds. He continues to hold you close as you slowly roll your hips against him, Wooyoung now kissing your jaw before gently sucking and licking on the surface of your neck;
The column, your throat.
You feel him come to the base and suck a little harder, and you're hoping it doesn't leave much of a mark. If it does, it doesn't fucking matter to you right now— nothing does. Because all you want is for Wooyoung to devour you. To give you everything, to ruin you so good.
"Is this okay? I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with—"
"Keep going, Wooyoung. Please." You cut him off. It takes a second for Wooyoung to register your pleading, that 'please' being the one thing that flips his switch. It's not only a want, but a heavy craving. He's got some sort of eagerness to show you just what you've been missing.
"Hold onto me." He says, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to your bed and plops you onto the mattress. He slowly crawls over you, his warm, large hands now cascading up your sweatshirt. Your breathing hitches when he reaches just above your rib cage, and Wooyoung stops when he feels your body tense in his grip. "You sure you're okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, down to your nose, your lips. He looks you in the eye with slight concern, afraid of scaring you. The last thing he wants you to think is that he's purely using you for other reasons— when it's definitely more than that.
Wooyoung wants to show you, in case he's bad at voicing his feelings. Cause he can be, clearly. But, he could at least show you and take care of you properly.
"I am."
"You trust me, yeah?" You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod, continuing to keep contact with Wooyoung. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."
"I want you to." This time, Wooyoung dips forward to lock you into another deep, fervent kiss. His hands are finally roaming further up; Wooyoung letting out a low groan when he finds out you're braless. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple, tongues fighting for dominance while your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair. You toss his beanie off just as he starts to tug your crewneck over your head and you follow suit with his hoodie. He nibbles on your jaw just before sucking harshly on the skin of your neck. His hand travels down and slips into your pajama pants, fingers delicately rubbing at your clothed pussy that sends a million jolts down your spine. You twitch in response, and Wooyoung can't help but chuckle against your neck.
"So reactive." He teases.
"It's been awhile, Woo."
"And? That's fine, baby. Told you I'd take good care of you." He raises himself slightly to watch your reaction in real-time. "Does that feel good?" He asks, close to a whisper. 
"Yes." You bite your bottom lip and shut your eyes, sighing in satisfaction.
"God. Can feel how wet you are already." Wooyoung feels himself getting painfully hard against your thigh, imagining how tight you are. He doesn't wanna waste another moment, and he thinks he'll lose it if he isn't inside of you within the next few seconds. "Let's take this off, hm?" He hums, hands already tugging your panties and pajama pants down. "Do you have a condom?"
"Don't need it. I'm on the pill." 
"You're sure? I'm clean, but I'll do whatever you're okay with. Just say the word." He asks again to be extra sure.
"I am, I'm sure." You nod eagerly. The pill was mainly to help regulate your heavy, irregular periods, but you'd say you do appreciate it a little more now for this particular reason.
"You're so hot, jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung doesn't say anything else before he's keenly kissing you again, hastily getting out of his sweats. 
Sooner or later, the rest of Wooyoung's clothes are joining yours on the floor; Wooyoung not wasting any seconds reattaching his lips to yours after slipping them off. 
Wooyoung pauses when he sees you fixed on his length— eyes hazy and full of desire. It's giving Wooyoung the biggest fucking ego boost, but that's not important. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. He slowly eases himself in, the both of you letting out lewd moans as you both adjust to the feeling. You're tightly wrapped around him and Wooyoung has to keep his composure as he buries himself deep to the hilt. Wooyoung keeps his pace slow and steady; forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts into you. It's nothing rushed, everything about it is slow— so tender, so careful. 
So safe.
"Wooyoung." You moan his name and his brain short-circuits every time you say it the way you do. On top of that, your little whimpers are doing a number on him, but he's trying to keep it together for awhile longer. 
"Doing so well for me, love." He gently bites your chin just as he slightly picks up his pace. He hovers a bit, lips coming back up to meet you in a sweet kiss. He holds it for a minute longer, tongue swiping over your lips as he rolls his hips into you. 
It's intimate. 
It's deep. 
It's raw. 
It's nothing he'd do to his booty calls, no. Everything about those moments are forced and rushed, the end goal having to nut as quickly as possible and get them the hell out of his space.
With you, he's loving every second. He wants to relish in the way your walls feel around him, wants to relish in the way your fingers thread through his hair, wants to relish in the way you kiss him so slowly, so passionately. Like every kiss holds the answers to the universe and you're afraid you'll miss a single detail.
He rests his nose, lips, against your cheek just as he releases a shaky breath, still taking his time as he works his way with you. He comes down to your neck and leaves feathery pecks against the surface while his body is pressed flushed against yours. He turns his head and you've fully wrapped your arms around him. The pace is perfect, with Wooyoung working his hips in circular motions just to hit you in all the right places. He praises you as you continue to moan for him, pretty little mewls slipping from your lips while he tells you how captivating, how angelic, you are for him.
How perfect you are for him.
You find your hips have a mind of their own, working to match Wooyoung's movements. You feel the pleasure building quick at your core, and you know it won't take long from there.
"Wooyoung— just like that, please—oh my god." You sob. While he continues to expertly thrust into you and keep you close, the friction against him causes the coil within you to snap harshly, nails digging deep into Wooyoung's shoulders while he thrusts harder, a bit rougher, to meet his high. 
"F-fuck, baby. I'm about to—" He moans a little louder when he feels you clench a few times around him from the aftershock, quickly pulling out and releasing onto your pussy and abdomen. "Shit—fuck." He pants, finally coming back down from euphoria to see how mesmerizing you look splayed out beneath him; white ribbons of cum painted on your skin. He's completely enamored by you. "Mm'sorry babygirl, let's get you cleaned up." You giggle and shake your head.
"Please, it's fine. Stop looking, you're making me shy again."
"Don't be. You look beautiful." He laughs, slipping on his boxers. "Let me clean you up." He runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes, doing a light jog to clean you up well. You grab your panties and your crewneck after he's done— throwing them on and snuggling under your covers. You fully expect Wooyoung to get dressed and leave [which would suck], but he doesn't. You quietly watch as he shuts off your TV and the lights, going to the bathroom for a quick wash up. Afterwards, he immediately slips underneath your covers right next to you, pulling you onto his chest.
"You're staying?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you closer. "Sleepy?"
"Incredibly." He smiles.
"I put in some work, huh?"
"Wooyoung." You pout, lightly smacking his chest.
"I'm just joking." He subtly bites his lip. "Can I have one more kiss before we sleep?" You lean up and peck him on the lips a few times, with Wooyoung holding the last kiss before pulling away. "Goodnight, pretty girl."
"Goodnight." You mumble, falling asleep within seconds as you cuddle snuggly against him. Because with Wooyoung, it feels.. right.
Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.
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—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd
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spiderbeam · 18 hours
Note
and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7
🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires
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Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.
Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.
He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”
Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”
“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”
“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”
“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.
Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”
You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”
“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.
You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”
Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.
This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.
Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.
“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”
“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”
“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”
He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.
And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”
You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”
Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.
You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.
This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.
But you’re you.
“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”
Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”
But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”
“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”
He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”
You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.
You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.
“Your—”
“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”
“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.
“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”
“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”
Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
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eve’s 1k celebration 🎧
this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc
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burr-ell · 2 days
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im convinced that exandrian halloween originates as a festival in whitestone, i have to imagine at some point they're like oh ok this town's actually haunted let's eat candy and get hammered about it. people old enough to remember the occupation are like hell yeah sun tree's still up, time to put fake cobwebs on it, the roots are just SURROUNDED by jack-o-lanterns. the slayer's cake does a line of spooky-themed sweets and at least three of them are named with dunks on the briarwoods. garlands of fake bats with goofy faces on them. cats everywhere. scanlan does thriller and only some people get retraumatized. the de rolos hand out king-sized candy bars. percy's goth ass is having a WHALE of a time
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twst-drabbles · 13 hours
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Jamil 17
Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.
(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)
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Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.
“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”
Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!
But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.
At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.
And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”
Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.
And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.
You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.
“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.
“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”
The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”
You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”
…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.
“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”
Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.
You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”
Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?
“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?
You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”
“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?
“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”
Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.
Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”
You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”
Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”
“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”
While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.
This is nice, that you trust him like this.
“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”
And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?
“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”
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astrofhobia · 3 days
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Post-Mortem AU
It would be amazing to have a Tsams AU based on mexican culture, where real moments from the history of that country are interpreted... WAIT
PUM 💥💥 I'm here.
I started designing these guys again a bit, I didn't really like their first designs that much, but I definitely like these ones.
For now, we have three, the most important ones, within this messy story.
The Sun, The Moon and The Eclipse
I want to give a little information about these silly guys, also some fun facts.
Sunrise
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Sunrise. Called "Life" in this AU. Life is the third child of the "Creator" and the youngest. His older siblings are Lunar and Earth. He was born when a star appeared in the universe, the brightest and largest star the universe had ever seen, for this reason, he is considered the god of light, the god of the sun.
His purity caught the attention of "Creator" and he proclaimed him as his son.
Life's arrival brought many changes to the universe. And thanks to him, he convinced the other gods to create things that would worship them, based on the perfection of his father. Life called them "humans" tiny humans who lived on a balanced planet, the Earth.
Sun brought mankind. And mankind called him "The god of the creation" "The god of the Sun" "The god of the life".
Sun used to rule the earth. That was for a long time... Until things started to go wrong, very very wrong.
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Moondrop. They used to call her "Death" in this universe.
She was born when the first human died. The bones of that human had joined together into a sticky mass which had formed a body and finally, a consciousness. "Creator" didn't consider her a daughter of purity. But "Killcode" did, he proclaimed her his daughter, his little daughter.
She didn't usually communicate much with the other gods, she always, always kept her distance, in her own bubble.
She used to have a kingdom, "Mictlán", where the souls of humans could rest for eternity. The place used to be quite... Depressing. Souls rested... But the place was completely alone, filled with the bones of humans and only Death there...
Something you really should know. She's not here anymore.
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Eclipse. Called "Death" in this AU.
War. It was his first name. He was born from Killcode's blood, the drops of red blood fell. They formed a large puddle. And from that puddle, War appeared.
Creator considered him a god... different. He really repudiated his existence. But Killcode didn't, he called him his son. His first son.
Nobody knows that. He just appeared one day with the other gods.
His arrival was controversial. The gods called him "A mad god"...
Actually, Death has forgotten most of his past. He doesn't really know how he existed, or why he is the "god of death".
Fun facts
Death has the same personality as Eclipse (EAPS).
Death (Eclipse) often has constant nightmares. Surrounded by fire as his metallic body slowly burns until he wakes up, locked in a room without light until darkness consumes him completely, bloodcurdling screams of children, etc.
Death's body parts constantly fail, they just stop working for no reason. It's something... really annoying.
Death feels nauseous at the sight of blood, he really can't stand it.
Death is uncomfortable being around a lot of children, he doesn't really know why. He is not bothered by noise, if they are dirty or naughty, he simply cannot be with children for a long time.
Death is the current prince/god of Mictlán.
Death doesn't like the rain.
Death and Life live together on Earth. They live like normal humans, in a lower-middle class house, they pay taxes and are afraid of the SAT.
Life maintains the same personality as Dark Sun (SAMS) but here it is a little calmer and much more depressing.
Life has a place to sleep. He literally has a bed that he shares with Death but the idiot can end up sleeping in a shower if he wants because he's a weirdo.
Life, ironically enough, hates humanity. No one knows why.
Life can't stand loud noise, make some noise when he's upset and you probably have a ticket to Mictlán.
If Life really had to work in the human world he would be a doctor. An emergency doctor, he practically created anatomy, he can work with this.
Life used to run a daycare alongside Death (Moon). It burned down.
Death really likes music with movement, salsa, cumbia, she's really good at that.
Death's clothing is inspired by the catrina and the traditional clothing of Nuevo Leon, Mexico.
Death hates fire.
Death really wants to stab Life.
The skull on Death and Death's chest isn't just decoration. It's practically their exposed cores. Rip that off their chest and they'll probably pass out immediately.
Death and Life are Pro-PRI. Life is ignorant. Death is evil.
Death is Pro-PAN. She really is a evil girl.
If you want to know more about these fools, you can ask, my inbox¿ is open
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bikananjarrus · 3 days
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i have a few thoughts about how the lost hero actually sets up the darker tone for HoO really well and then. well. there was never any follow through.
now some of my hindsight about TLH is probably fueled by nostalgia (i actually am really fond of tlh and also i was 14 when i read. impressionable on my teen brain). i’ve reread it several times, but i have really strong memories of the first time i read the book too, and i just remember it having a very gloomy, dark vibe to it. (the way that TTC is set in winter and definitely feels like a winter book, this is the HoO equivalent for me.)
looking at the actual contents of the book, the book starting off with jason's pov, who has no idea who he is, so immediately the feeling is 'oh shit. something happened to this guy. and it's not good.' and then almost immediately after that, getting sucker punched with the “she's been looking for one of our campers, who’s been missing three days…her boyfriend. A guy named percy jackson.” percy??? thee percy jackson. MISSING???? (look, that put 14 year old me flat on the floor. it still hits. but in 2010 when we had no idea percy was going to even be in these books….you kinda just had to be there okay.)
alongside jason, we have piper, whose dad got kidnapped by a giant and she'd being blackmailed! all before she finds out she's a demigod!! like she's already having a ROUGH time. we find out leo was manipulated by gaea to use his flame powers, which resulted in the fire that killed his mom (genuinely wtf).
their quest starting the lead up to the second great prophecy, which is happening so soon after percy's great prophecy (like they JUST finished fighting a war. give them a chance to breathe dammit. but also implying that some major things stirred with the defeat of kronos. But how could there be something more horrifying than kronos?).
their quest taking them to all these abandoned and/or cold places (the run down wolf house, they're hiding in the sewers at one point, the cyclops lair in that abandoned warehouse, the cave where they shelter from the cold and where the hunters of artemis find them, boreas’s house being in canada, even the mall where they meet medea being empty iirc). jason being abandoned by his mother. piper feeling abandoned by a father who doesn't have enough time for her. leo being alone too (not his mom's fault she died; not his fault for the fire; but he's alone nonetheless). even their primary mode of transportation being flying on festus feels strange and out of the place, bc for so long, we were seeing through percy's eyes and he had to stay on the ground.
and then to end the book with jason dying, however briefly. literally a dead man walking from the very beginning.
the tone was something different and darker, and combined with percy, hazel, and frank going to alaska, the land beyond the gods, in SoN, we were really venturing into unknown territory. it felt like our heroes would be tested. that gaea truly was something to be feared, even more so than kronos, and that it would take the generation's seven greatest demigods to defeat her.
and then it never followed through with that set up.
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intothedysphoria · 1 day
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Billy’s therapist probably didn’t mean to be patronising but he very much came off that way. Something about being in a wheelchair now made people think he was simple.
It was CIA appointed or whoever the assholes who’d dragged him into hospital were. The therapist felt like he should have been a part of the Men In Black and Billy half expected that he was going to get his memory erased.
Instead, after Billy signed several NDA’s about the time he was possessed by a fucked up alien thing, he was told to draw. So he drew. He drew his mom bathed in the California sun, Max trailing a muddy skateboard around the house. Heather when she was still alive. Neil covered in bulbous sores, just because. He didn’t draw Steve, even if he wanted to. He wasn’t going to get his boyfriend into more shit than he already was.
The man pursed his lips then asked Billy if he knew why he was there. A sardonic answer almost danced on his tongue until he remembered these guys probably had Max. He shook his head no instead.
“We’re moving you out of Hawkins Billy” came the crisp response. For Billy’s own safety, of course. No cover up here.
They were not moving him back to California, even after Billy threatened to stab a guard. California would be too obvious of a move.
They were dumping him in yet another shithole but this one was in Texas. To live with his maternal grandfather, who Billy hadn’t met since he was three years old.
He didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone. All he had were Max and Steve’s house numbers balled up in his fist as he boarded the plane.
His vague memories of “grandpa Patrick” were of a gruff, surprisingly fit old man who scared the shit out of Neil. Memory did not disappoint.
Patrick had served 32 years in the Air Force before working as low level management on an oil rig and retiring soon after. He was a piece of work when it came to bending house rules but it came from a place of genuine caution not the desire of instilling fear.
Since the past months had destroyed any hope of going to college, Patrick signed him up for wheelchair basketball. Under the surname O’Connor, not Hargrove.
Phone usage was limited from 5pm until 6pm every day, because Patrick was perhaps overly concerned about bills and was also convinced that all phones were bugged. Billy tried to call Max and Steve every day. And every day either Susan or Mrs Harrington picked up. It was driving Billy up the fucking wall. What was the point of having a boyfriend or sister if you weren’t allowed to call them?
Billy’s aunt Marie had noticed that he was becoming steadily more despondent by the day, so she gently suggested writing a letter. As long as he didn’t use his old name and wrote with his left hand he should be fine.
Max’s letter took about 10 minutes. They knew each other so well all Billy really needed to establish was that she was safe, she was coping and she wasn’t getting too much shit at school. Billy already knew how she’d be feeling in this situation.
Steve’s letter took much longer. Trying to judge how your boyfriend of a little under a year would react to you suddenly reappearing in his life was a little more complicated. Especially when you had to drop in hints as to who you actually were.
Billy struggled through emphasising that he loved Steve, leaving him had been hell and he’d met several actual cowboys since the move. After that he really just had to wait.
Steve sent him back a letter with tiny butterflies drawn on the front. He was always doodling and on their first date Billy had been told his eyes reminded Steve of butterflies. It was a difference from all his past dates who’d told him they looked like the sea.
It was a long letter for Steve. He was dyslexic and despised writing, would constantly need to be bribed with affection to finish a book report but Steve sent practically a novel. He was bored and lonely in Hawkins, had a job in a video rental space and was working his way up to going to college. There were several paragraphs asking about the rules of wheelchair basketball followed by several more asking if he’d bought a cowboy hat.
He loved Billy more than he could explain and hoped he could come back soon.
Billy felt asleep with the letter tucked into his pocket and resolved to find Steve again.
One day.
For @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 and also @oopsiedaisiesbaby for giving me the idea of Texan Billy
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Till the Last Drop
Pairing: Shigadabi
Rating: Mature
Summary: Commissioned by @dahvampire. Enji kicked him out on the street when he was eighteen, and Dabi was lucky enough to make good friends who helped get him back on his feet. But he can't help thinking every day that he will lose it all again, thoughts that only get worse when he starts dating Tomura Shigaraki. He doesn't know if he's had anything that has made him so happy, and the fear of it falling apart never ebbs.
Contents: Coffee Shop AU, No Heroes/Villains, Yes Quirks, mentions of Sexual Content
Wordcount: 8,327
The Last Drop Cafe is probably the only reason Dabi hadn't wound up in jail after his father kicked him out of the house. The fact that he'd set himself an a mountain on fire at twelve trying to just get his father to pay even a scrap of attention to him after his quirk proved to be so unstable, wound up in a coma until he was fifteen, and then needed to spend the following three years resuming his education and getting expensive treatments just to keep him alive, made him the disgrace of the Todorokis and a black spot that Enji wanted out of his house and away from his name as quickly as possible. On his eighteenth birthday, he had called Dabi into his home office offered him a single backpack, ten thousand yen, and the ability to leave that night while his siblings were setting things up for his birthday party, because if he left then and never contacted his siblings again, then Enji wouldn't also cut them off when they were of age. Fuyumi was already applying for colleges so she could become a teacher. Natsuo wanted to be a doctor. Sho was too young to have things worked out yet, but he didn't want to be the one responsible for him knowing that he would be penniless and on the streets the day he turned eighteen. He didn't even take the money. He just left with the clothes on his back and tried to make it work. His phone worked for a couple of days after he'd been kicked out, and he looked up every place that said that they gave help or housing to people who needed it. He sold his bricked phone at an electronics shop and followed some guides on what necessities to get upon being made newly homeless, and spent six months floating around trying to find something. 
Last Drop was on the list of places that would give people a free sandwich and drink each afternoon. Magne had been working the first day there and had given him the meal and he'd slunk out of the building, not wanting to have to have people looking at him in broad daylight when he knew his scars had worsened so much, the coloration getting darker and more purply now that he was not getting the medicine he'd been using before to try and keep them light and healing. Atsuhiro, the owner, had been there the next when he'd come back, and he'd asked Dabi to sit in one of the corner booths with him and talk. He hadn't been too pushy, but when he knew how old Dabi was, how abruptly he'd found himself like this, he'd told him about the apartment above the shop. It constantly smells like coffee and pastries, and was barely up to code, but it could be his. A job could be his too if he wanted it, until he figured out everything else. Dabi didn't have any other options, so he agreed. Magne had taken him out to get some new clothes and sheets for the air mattress that they'd pulled out of the closet for him, and he'd been able to shower and sit on the bed alone and safe for the first time in a three months and he finally burst into tears as he let himself actually feel what he'd lost. 
He hasn't spoken to his siblings since he left. He knows that Enji sent Fuyumi to a good college, one that she'll never be able to pay back on her own on a teacher's salary. He knows that Natsuo is in college now too, guesses that he's going to med school as soon as he can. Maybe someday he'll be able to sever ties with their father, but Dabi doesn't know for certain. He doesn't know what's going to happen to Shoto, but he was always Enji's favorite. He won't ever be able to take his claws out from his skin. Dabi does his best to not look into how their lives are going, because even now, even six years later, he still wants to go back to them. He still wants to tell them that he's still alive, that he didn't just run away and abandon them for no reason. So he can't look, because he doesn't want to ruin everything they are. 
Besides, Atsuhiro, Magne, and Jin are good to him, good friends. He's been working at Last Drop since the day that Atsuhiro let him in, and things are different now. He didn't feel like he belonged here, like he was anything other than a lucky charity case for three years. He got good at this job, he knows how to make almost every strange coffee or tea that's requested of him just from practice and memorization alone, but then he'd taken some of the money he'd been making and bought the ingredients to try and make his mom's black sesame cookies from scratch. He hadn't thought they would be worthy of selling, he was mostly just missing his siblings and wanting to give something back to Atsuhiro for taking him in. But he liked them. He asked him to make another batch and he'd had him do it down in the cafe's kitchen instead of his own. He'd made two dozen and they'd put them in the display case with the other pastries, and by the end of the day they were gone. Dabi thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. Atsuhiro showed him how to make scones and asked him to make another batch of his cookies. They sold out faster than they did the first day, and slowly but surely, Dabi took over working in the bakery, taking the early to mid-morning shift to get all of their pastries ready, and being in charge of developing new ones as their menu expanded over time. 
Last Drop is a home, a better one than he could have asked for coming from the one he'd had, and one that he doesn't mind also being his job-- even if that means he has to get up at four AM every day to start baking. 
///
Dabi is usually getting the last tray of baked goods into the case as Atsuhiro finishes grinding the beans for the day fifteen minutes before opening. After that it is a mad rush of the two of them moving around the space to keep up with orders through their morning rush. And then the lull going into the afternoon. Dabi's shift technically ends at noon, but he usually sticks around in the cafe anyway after Magne and Jin come to relieve he and Atsuhiro, mainly because he doesn't have anything else better to do. 
He usually drags a stool over from one of their tall tables and sits next to the dessert case so that he's mostly out of the way and chit-chats with the others, and that's what he's doing again when the bell over the door rings and in comes a high school girl. She's probably a first or second year, wearing a pale pinkish coat and red scarf, her hair tied up into two messy buns. She goes up to the counter, tucking her nose down into her scarf, and speaking up so that Magne can hear her through the fabric. 
"Hi," 
"Hello, what can I get for you, hun?" Magne asks. 
"Can I have a small latte and a raspberry danish, please?" 
"Sure thing, for here or to-go?"
"Uh, here, please." She pays, and Dabi is sitting right next to the case so he grabs the plate and puts the danish on even though it earns him a swat across the back of his head since he's not technically supposed to be working. The latte is quick to make and the young lady has selected a booth in the far back corner, facing away from the door. She's practically invisible to the rest of the bar, and when Magne looks back up from making her drink, she almost misses her. Another customer comes through the door, and Dabi takes the saucer and plate from her before she can protest, and heads over to the table. 
"Here you go, enjoy." He sets them down in front of her as she jumps, looking up from her backpack. "We have free wi-fi too, the login is on that card," he gestures at the miniature menu board that is pushed up against the wall. 
"Oh, thanks," She pulls her scarf up as she speaks, but Dabi lets it go. Maybe her mouth is affected by her quirk. It's not like he can't recognize being self-conscious about something like that. He leaves her be, and she covers her mouth whenever she eats anything, staying for a few hours as she does her homework. It's after dark by the time she goes home, but they don't comment on it, just keeping an eye. 
She comes back the next day, and the day after that. She orders a different pastry every day, gets her coffee, and then goes and hides in the back booth to do her homework. It takes two weeks before he, Magne, and Jin rock-paper-scissors to see who's going to go and actually check to see if she's alright, and Jin loses. It's probably a good thing it's him. He's got a massive scar across his face from a motorcycling accident, but it's not as gruesome or scary as all of Dabi is, and Magne, while she's a big teddy bear, she is still a bear and her anger is truly something to behold. Jin is a golden retriever, and he sits down, ready to ply her with a fresh pastry, and within the next hour she's laughing, and by the time she's left for the night they know that her name is Himiko Toga and that her quirk has made her an outcast. Her family is always happier when she's not home, and she doesn't have any real friends because they think she's strange no matter how she acts at school. She wants to go to high school in Tokyo. One of her neighbors who had similar problems but was three years older than her just finished his last year at a good school where he didn't have the same problems, but she has to be able to pay her way there because her parents won't help her. She's been studying hard to get a scholarship, but her test scores aren't good enough for that. So instead she's starting to look for jobs. 
Atsuhiro meets her the next day, and by the following weekend, she's behind the counter with him and Magne learning the ropes. 
///
Toga has been working with them for about a month, usually coming in right after her classes end and staying for four hours on weekdays, and six hour shifts over the weekend. She wants to get up to eight hours, but they want to take it up slowly. It does mean that Magne and Jin actually get a little more time off now that they have someone else working here, and Toga is actually taking to the work incredibly well. She talks to more people now than she ever did at school, and seeing how many people don't even notice her teeth so long as she's giving them their coffee, means that she is coming out of her shell more and more. She's a ray of sunshine, just as loud and bright as the others, and able to toe-to-toe with him in viciousness and trading insults when they're in the mood for it. She fits in perfectly, but she is not supposed to come in early for her shifts on the weekend. 
"Oy," he says as he takes out the tray of scones from the oven, "You're early." 
"I'm going to sit on my ass and eat your cooking fresh until it's time to clock in." She tells him brightly, not punching her time card, and hanging up her coat and scarf. She's practically bouncing on her toes. 
"What's got you so excited?" 
"My friends have a tournament in town this afternoon, so they said they would come by to see me during my break!" 
"That's not going to be for hours," he says with moderate exasperation as he smacks her hand away from the tray of croissants before she burns her fingers into nothing. 
"I know!" But her spirit isn't dimmed so he just rolls his eyes and keeps on with his prep as she starts up a stream of chatter. 
///
It's at their eleven thirty lull when their bell rings again. Dabi is pulling a double for Magne because she had to move her doctor's appointment for today if she wants to stay on schedule for her estrogen, and it's not like he doesn't live here. So he's chatting with Toga, leaning against one of the counters and debating if he's going to have his third espresso shot of the day, when the bell rings and two guys, maybe a few years younger than him, walk in. The heteromorphic reptile-person with purple hair and green scales stands out immediately, but the guy behind him isn't bad to look at. Long white hair that's half tied back from his face, pale skin, bright red eyes, and interesting markings around his eyes and lips that Dabi is guessing are from his quirk. They barely get in the door before Toga is practically hopping the bar and rushing over to them. 
"You're here!" She nearly knocks them off their feet when she tries to hug them both at once without having slowed down before reaching them at all. 
The lizard grunts and the pale one yanks his hands back and away from their bodies, a flicker of panic going across his face, his thumb curled in tight against his palm. "Toga, be careful, I don't have my gloves." Must have a quirk that is touch activated then. 
"Oh, sorry, Shiggy. Why not?" 
"New rules. They want to check them to see if they meet regulations." The guy says, his voice a low rasp. 
"That's stupid." 
"It is. But we thought you were working?" The lizard guy says. "Come on, can't be at peak performance without having more caffeine in our veins than blood." 
"Right!" Toga turns back to the counter, pulling the two older men along with her. "Welcome to Last Drop, what can I get you? We don't have energy drinks," she says very pointedly to them. They both get an Americano with a double shot of espresso, and Dabi lets her ring them up as he goes over to start on the actual coffee. She's already going a mile a minute as she starts to ring them up. "You should try a pastry! Dabi makes them fresh every morning." 
The lizard picks out his sesame cookies, and the other guy declines, "You know I don't like sweets." 
Dabi can't help snorting at that as he turns back with the first coffee. He doesn't mean to catch red eyes watching him. 
"I'm sure they're good--" he tries to backtrack, clearly guessing who he is. 
"No, it's funny because I don't like sweet things either." 
"He's just weird." Toga agrees. "Dabi, this is Tomura Shigaraki and Shuichi Iguchi." 
"Nice to meet you." 
"Hey, man." 
She gets their money, both of them dropping nearly the same amount in their tip jar, and she plates the cookies as he finishes with their coffee. As soon as she's passed over their order, she turns to him, "I'm going on my break!" 
"Go clock out you little gremlin!" He orders. She sticks her tongue out at him but does actually duck into the kitchen to do as she's told. He rolls his eyes and finds that he's not the only one, though he's a little surprised to see Iguchi doing it at his friend before he goes over to one of the empty booths. Dabi's not entirely sure what he did to warrant that response, but he goes back to work as Toga comes out from the kitchen to go sit with her friends. He's glad that she has friends other than them. It's pretty quiet today, so he makes her a cappuccino with way too much extra sugar and syrups in it, and gets her one of the miniature strawberry cream cakes that they're going to be retiring until strawberries are back in season. He also brings three forks. 
"Thanks Dabi!" Toga beams at him, because she doesn't hide her teeth anymore, and Dabi deliberately sets down the forks too, meeting red eyes with a smug smirk. Sure it's probably a bad look to mock a new customer, but on the other hand, it's very, very fun to poke so harmlessly at someone. 
He leaves them to catch up for her break, Toga taking her lunch while he deals with whatever trickle of customers come in and out until Jin's shift. When he gets in, Dabi goes and clocks out, hanging up his apron. He comes back out to, not sure if he wants to just spend all of his time hanging out up in his apartment this weekend, and finds that Toga is getting back to work, and that only Shigaraki is still inside, Iguchi waiting outside of the cafe doors as he taps on his phone. Toga giggles as soon as she sees him, which tells Dabi immediately that he's in danger, but before he can do anything about that, Shigaraki is coming up to him. 
"I hope this isn't too inappropriate," He braces for something wildly inappropriate to be said to him. "But I was wondering if I could get the recipe for that cake?" 
"Oh," Dabi blinks, "Oh, uh sure. God, that was not what I thought you were going to say." 
"That's because I chickened out about asking you on a date halfway through." Shigaraki gives him a rueful smile, and that is definitely not the smoothest way to ask someone out, but Dabi is pretty sure he would have done worse since he's never asked anyone out or been asked out before. 
It's probably not the correct response for him to let out a snort of laughter though. That probably doesn't do the other man's ego any favors. "Did you even like the cake?" 
"Not even remotely, which is no reflection on your baking skills. As far as I can tell, it was the perfect cake. But perfect is always going to be mediocre if you don't like whatever it is in the first place." 
"Okay, so what do you like?" 
"Video games, my friends, people watching, getting a more direct answer when I ask someone out so I know if I should be making a swift exit." 
"Ask me a direct question and I'll give you a direct answer." 
Shigaraki doesn't get annoyed with his attitude, his lips curling up into a smile that makes his whole face softer. "I have a tournament to get to, would you like to come watch if you're not already busy for the rest of the day? And afterward, when I win, I would like to take you out on a date if you're interested?" 
"That sure you're going to win?" 
"More sure about that than I am your answer." 
Dabi isn't sure about his answer either. This is a first, and he doesn't know if he should have his first date with one of Toga's few other friends. If it goes badly, he doesn't want her to end up caught in the crossfire. But... he's having fun bantering with Shigaraki. And he's never been to a sporting event before. He doesn't even know what he plays, he definitely doesn't look very imposing in his black skinny jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, red tennis shoes, and red coat. 
"Yeah, okay. You still want to pretend to want that cake recipe so I can go change?" He is never going to say that coffee and pastries smell bad, but he does typically try not to walk around radiating that smell in all directions once his shift is over. 
"No, but I can give you my number. We have to be at the venue early for registration and check-in, our part of the tournament doesn't start for another four hours. Toga's heading over after her shift, if you want to join her for the walk. And that way, if you change your mind, there's no obligation." 
Dabi appreciates that and hands over his phone so the other man can put in his number. "Okay, you better win though, because I'm not into cocky guys who can't deliver."
He sees a little heat go into those red eyes, something that makes Dabi think that maybe this guy will be able to hold up against his attitude. "I always deliver." 
"We'll see about that. You should probably go, your friend's waiting." He hands back his phone.
"Yeah, any dietary restrictions I should know about, other than being a baker who doesn't like sweets?" 
"I don't do fish." 
"No fish, no sweets, got it. I hope that I see you later." Shigaraki doesn't linger after that, turning to go meet his other friend outside, and Dabi watches him go, a little surprised with himself for handling that and agreeing to go out with him. 
And then out of the corner of his eye he sees Jin and Toga leaning against the display case and counter respectively, both of them with shit-eating grins. 
"Aww, ain't that cute," Jin mocks. 
"This is so exciting! You should wear your leather pants, oh and the fishnet shirt, and you should wear the nipple rings instead of the studs!" 
"One, fuck you, two, you're fifteen, stop having an opinion on my body jewelry." 
"Eyeliner too! I'll do it for you! It makes your eyes look so pretty!" 
"I fucking hate you." 
///
Dabi goes for his favorite boots, a distressed pair of black skinny jeans, a dark wash gray shirt tucked at the front to show one of his studded belts, and his favorite tattered leather duster that he got in a charity shop and has been holding onto no matter how badly frayed the ends keep getting, fixing any wear at the shoulders and elbows to keep it looking artfully worn even though he's pretty sure the coat is older than him. He does wear his eyeliner though. Toga's right, it makes his eyes pop. 
When her shift ends, she's practically bouncing as she gets him out the door and into a taxi to drive them to the... concert hall? He's about to ask what the hell kind of sporting event this is, when he sees the banner that has been posted above the doors. An esports tournament. Dabi has never been asked if he thinks that esports are a sport or not, but he supposes that it doesn't matter when he's here now. Besides, Toga knows where to go and brings them to a much, much shorter line to get in, Dabi half-stunned by the lines that have formed to get in, massive screens already set up outside of the building playing highlight reels of the games that have already happened to keep the people who haven't gotten in yet entertained as they wait. But they go right over to the VIP line and she hands over her ID and tells them that they're special guests of Iguchi and Shigaraki. 
It takes all of five minutes for them to have VIP wristbands, badges, a gift bag provided by a few of the sponsors, and an escort inside because they're allowed into a special viewing booth if they don't want to sit right down in the front row by the stage. They opt for the stage and when they're shown to their seats, whatever game was happening before Shigaraki and Iguchi's is still going on, so they sit and start to watch that, Dabi turning to Toga and saying, 
"I do not know shit about esports. What the fuck do I need to so that I don't embarrass myself?" 
Toga gives him the basics of the game that Shigaraki and Iguchi will be playing as they wait for things to get started. Teams of two, essentially virtual capture the flag, getting killed doesn't mean they're down for the count, it just means that they have to wait to respawn and after three kills, they're out of the game completely. If they get all the way through this tournament then they'll get two million yen. And this won't even be the first one that they've participated in, having done two before this that earned them enough money to pay through their first year of university and rent a substantial apartment near the campus. 
Dabi can't say that he fully knows what's going on throughout the many games that they watch, staying for nearly six hours as their team wins match after match. He barely gets it, but he's as on the edge of his seat as Toga is when the last match comes and Shigaraki's avatar dies and is eliminated when he blocks the other team's shot so that Iguchi's avatar can hold the point for the last couple of seconds that he needs to in order to secure it and win the match. Toga jumps up, pulling him with her, as the announcers start to rattle off their things and the crowd cheers. A massive thing of confetti goes off and showers the stands and stage with bits of the colorful paper. 
When the stands start to clear out, and Shigaraki and Iguchi have disappeared for their other post-tournament obligations, he and Toga are taken into a VIP lounge to wait for them. She's bouncing, thrilled that her friends won, and he's wondering if he should have worn something less casual for a dinner date with a guy who can make two million yen in a day. But when Shigaraki and Iguchi come to find them, they accept their congratulations from him and hugs from Toga, before Shigaraki turns to him and says, 
"I know a great tsukemen place near here, if you still want to get dinner." 
"How can I say no? You backed up the cockiness flawlessly." It earns him another smile, and Iguchi only rolls his eyes as Toga waves them off with a grin. 
///
Dinner is at a little hole-in-the-wall place with a cozy atmosphere where Dabi is served the best tsukemen that he has ever had in his life. They spend the entire meal chit-chatting, just getting to know each other. Dabi finds out that Shigaraki was adopted at age five after an earthquake leveled his family home, he's been gaming since he was seven, when a console was the first Christmas present his adoptive father got him once the papers were finalized, that he's actually pretty pessimistic about society as a whole, and that he literally destroys anything he touches with his quirk. Dabi tells him that he doesn't have any family he’s in contact with, he started baking and cooking when he was around five because it was the only chore he did that actually made him feel useful, that he thinks that the world is kind of shit too, but there are a few good people who make it worth it, and that he can burn anything to a crisp-- even himself. Most of it is pretty casual first-date kinds of things, and it's going well enough. They can talk to each other, it's even kind of fun. It's just that Dabi feels out of his depth and isn't about to own up to his inexperience. When they're finished, Shigaraki offers to take him home, and Dabi accepts that, the two of them grabbing a taxi and going back to the cafe. 
He invites the other inside with a slightly sadistic, "Come on, we skipped dessert," and unlocks the cafe. There are only a few things that he saves between days, and biscotti is one of them. Shigaraki has no fear of caffeine this late, and Dabi makes them both a cappuccino to enjoy with it, before they're sitting at one of the booths. 
"So why engineering and business?" He never went to college of course, but it does seem less exciting than making money streaming, going to tournaments, and apparently starting to do sponsorship ads the way Shigaraki does in his free time. 
"My father. When Spinner and I wanted to enter our first tournament, we wanted to go in on one of the bigger, more established ones, not the ones for amateurs. The one we wanted had an entry fee of three hundred thousand yen for teams without managers or an agency, which we couldn't get unless we auditioned, entered a training program, and all of this other shit that we didn't want to do and didn't have time for before graduation and our college entrance exams. Spinner wanted out of his family's house because his quirk was a random heteromorphic mutation and they never treated him very well, and I wanted to help, but my father doesn't believe in 'charity'." 
"So I made a deal with him, he would spot us the entry fee and in exchange he could pick my major and minor that I would get regardless of if we won, and give me a month of not meddling so that we could get our shit together so we could actually get past the qualifiers." He shrugs. "We won, but I'm locked in for four years, and Spinner used his cut of the money to come with me." 
"Kind of a dick move-- on your father's part, if you ask me." 
Shigaraki shrugs, "He wants me to succeed and be happy, but he doesn't always get that how he wants me to do it isn't going to work for me. Was your dad shit?" 
"Absolutely. Kicked me out at eighteen without warning and told me that if I ever caused him trouble he would--" he tries to remember what he told the others when they took him in, "Destroy someone I care about." 
"Absolutely a dick move." Shigaraki echoes his sentiment. "Did you ever get back in contact with them?" 
"No, he could still do it, and he will. They're better off without me around. I hope they have a good life." It's a little too heavy for a first date, he thinks, so he picks up one of the biscotti and dunks it in his coffee, letting them defuse the tension as Shigaraki follows his lead. They both take a bite once it's softened enough to not break their teeth, and when their mouths aren't full, "What do you think?" 
"It's not as sweet as the cake." Shigaraki says with true, perfect neutrality that makes Dabi laugh. 
"I'm going to find something that you like. Everyone has something." 
"Does that mean that I get to see more of you?" 
Oh. Dabi feels a flush trying to rise to his cheeks, but he's not about to be cowed or fumble this again. "You might get to see all of me tonight if you don't have any problems being kicked out at three AM, or sitting down here while I bake. My shift starts at four." He doesn't know what the etiquette for dating is, but he does know how to have a memorable hookup. 
"Maybe we should hold off then," Disappointment slips in. He had almost forgotten about his scars from how openly and readily Shigaraki had been flirting with him before. But maybe he needs more time to work himself up to see more of his fucked up skin. "I don't want to keep you up all night and have you burn down the cafe during your shift." 
Relief goes through him as he snorts. "Cocky." 
It earns him more smoldering red eyes and a small smile that screams with his overconfidence. "I've already proven once today that I can live up to it." 
"It's a coffee shop." Dabi says, pushing himself up from the table. "I'll have a drink if I'm sleepy." 
Shigaraki doesn't protest any as he stands as well, following Dabi upstairs to his apartment. 
Dabi didn't anticipate how no sleep, three orgasms, and being sore from taking the biggest cock up his ass he's ever had was going to affect his shift the next day, but Magne and Atsuhiro have a very, very good laugh over it when they see Tomura leaving just before they clock in. 
///
Tomura was Dabi's first date, but he's also his second, third, fourth, until it's really really obvious that they're dating. That he has a boyfriend now. He didn't think he'd ever have a home, friends, security, or companionship in his life, but he has all of them. 
And throughout the first month and a half of his and Tomura's relationship, he's expecting them all to disappear. 
It's a thought that comes to him the first time he's over at Shig and Spinner's apartment in the mid afternoon, when Duster comes back between classes, Spinner's still at his, and they fuck with the lights on for the first time. It's when he's certain that no matter what else they've done in the dark, that the moment that Tomura really sees him like this, that he's going to realize how disgusting he is and dump him. But he doesn't. He kisses his skin the same way he always does, teases him for how sensitive he always is, makes him cum so hard that he accidentally sets off the smoke alarms. They go out to dinner later and he heads back to the cafe since his shift is so early, half expecting him to block his number and ghost him completely. 
But Tomura comes by in two days while he's running around-- he and Spinner are actually getting sponsors and management companies who want them now-- to let Dabi make him try one of his other desserts, and to ask if he wants to go to a crane game place that Toga is dragging them all to later.
"I don't think I've ever played a single crane game in my life." He tells the other, but agrees anyway. The group of them have been having a good time hanging out together, and he wants to hold onto that for as long as he can. 
When they go to the crane game place that night, it's him, Tomura, Spinner, Toga, and Jin, and they all agree to a max spending cap of five thousand yen. Whoever comes back with the most prizes wins will get to pick where they go for dinner, and whoever has the least will be the assigned pack mule for the night. Dabi's spirits are slightly cheered by the fact that Jin says he's never played either. They get to the building and find two floors of the crane games, and Dabi immediately regrets what they've signed up for. They change their bills to coins and he and Tomura break off from the others to go down the rows, looking for any prizes that they might like. 
"Here, you should try this one, firefly." Tomura settles him in front of the game, the prize for which is a rabbit that is designed to look like a strawberry mochi. It's a standard claw game and Dabi at least knows how it works in theory, and Tomura shows him the controls. "This machine always grabs tighter after the third coin, so just try to get it into a good place before then." 
Dabi puts in his coin, "How often do you two come here?" 
Tomura guides his hands on the controls as the game starts, "Whenever we have to decide who's doing laundry or if I want the apartment for the weekend." 
"Yeah, how many times have you kicked him out for the weekend?" 
The question gets him a kiss against the back of his neck. "The only time that matters is this one, because when I win, we're going to your favorite soba place, dropping the others off at karaoke, and then you and I are going back to the apartment, and I'm going to fuck you in the tub the way you always want to until you're boiling the water." In his defense, their apartment is massive and the tub is no exception. 
"You are a terrible roommate and the only man on the fucking planet who is excited over the thought of getting third degree burns on his dick." Dabi lets Tomura guide his hand so that he positions the claw above the stuffed animal. He hits the button to lower it when it's in place and the machine whirrs. The claw closes around the bunny's soft body, but only carries it about an inch towards the prize drop before it slips out from the pincers. 
"A good boyfriend though." He gives Dabi a kiss on the cheek and puts in one of his own coins so that Dabi can try again. 
He gets lucky, and manages to get it up to the plastic partition in the machine, and the rabbit bounces against it and into the hole. Dabi is absolutely not expecting the rush of joy that he gets seeing it drop inside and realizing that he won something. 
"Perfect, firefly!" Tomura praises, giving him another kiss before letting Dabi reach into the slot to take the toy out. It's soft as a kitten, but it does have a plasticky smell to it that he hopes will go away. 
"Yeah, well, it'll be more impressive when I manage to do it on my own. Go make sure that you can deliver a good weekend." 
Tomura smiles and Dabi accepts the peck that he gets before he parts, saying, "If you're struggling at a machine, you can ask the staff to reset it, you can only win one of the big plushies per machine, and there are bags by the coin exchange if you need them to carry things. I'll stay on this floor until you're ready to go upstairs, just come find me when you're ready." 
"Okay," he lets the other leave and picks up his coin cup. Tomura moves down the row and turns a corner, disappearing, he's guessing to go to his favorite machines. He turns and starts to look at the other machines, other versions of claws, ones where he thinks he has to pull on the plastic tabs that have been attached to boxes, trying to find any that look interesting. It's a total waste of his coins, but he sees a box of assorted chocolates that he knows Tomura will hate, and that Toga will love, and he immediately stops at that machine and feeds it a coin. 
It takes him ten tries before he actually gets the box to fall into the slot, and after it does, he doesn't get that same flicker of happiness that he was before. Because that flicker has been fighting its way through his doubt since the first night that they spent together. Tomura likes him, he's good to him, but it's hard not to notice that he's going to make something of himself. He's going to be a proper pro at some point, probably some point soon, and he's going to graduate college, and then he's going to be able to get whatever job he wants after he has his esports career, if he doesn't make enough money to retire on it. Dabi isn't going anywhere. He is incredibly grateful for what he has, but he's not going to make more of himself than a barista and a self-taught pastry chef. He's lucky he even became that. He's not going to get any prettier either. When they go out, he still has people see his face and gasp, or turn away from him and whisper. He still gets stopped by cops when he's just going to the grocery store because they think he looks like a criminal. 
He's always going to be the person who doesn't fit in, who scares people, who is too prickly to make them feel comfortable. He's never going to be as smart as them, won't ever be able to afford to go back to school even if he wanted to, and he's never going to have a lot. He's been happy with what he's had so far, he's been happy with how things worked out when he didn't think he would ever get anywhere near any of this. Dabi knows that his job at Last Drop isn't going anywhere. He would have to fuck up astronomically for Atsuhiro to fire him, and they're not about to go under or anything. He knows that Magne, Jin, and Atsuhiro are his friends first and foremost, and even if things fall apart with Shigaraki, they aren't going to abandon him, while Toga might have to pick between them and her old friends. He knows he has enough money squirreled away that he won't end up homeless again if something unforeseen happens. 
But he doesn't know how he's supposed to handle the fact that Tomura could choose to leave him as soon as he realizes that Dabi isn't worth his time. That he's just going to weigh him down, smearing soot all over the bright future that is stretching out in front of him. He's never been in the position before where he had to decide if he was going to give up on something instead of waiting for it to end, but neither option makes him feel particularly good. 
Dabi's fingers hit cool plastic and he blinks, looking down at his coin cup. Two hundred yen left. He didn't mean to do that, absolutely didn't mean to wander around playing game after game as his mind whirled. Definitely lost. It feels like a horrible signpost from fate that he's going to lose Tomura too, even though he wants so badly, and so selfishly to keep him all for himself. He looks around for a single machine that he thinks that he might be able to get at least one thing out of, desperate to hold on for a chance--
"There you are," Tomura comes up to him, one hand with two large bags of prizes hanging off of it. "Are you ready to head upstairs?" 
"Uh, yeah," he feels his face heat, his stomach in knots. "I'm almost out-- guess you made this look way easier than it was." 
Tomura just smiles, "It takes practice. Besides, you have two things? So does Jin, last I saw. Toga's only got four. She wasted all her money trying to get a My Melody strawberry plush for some girl she's got a crush on." He looks into his coin cup and then whispers to him, "Let's sneak upstairs before the others notice. The gotcha games are up there, and you can get at least one more prize and beat Jin." 
"Okay." His chest hurts. He doesn't want to lose this. They go upstairs and Tomura shows him the line of gotchas that range from one hundred yen to play to two thousand. He can play two of the games and come out with the same amount as Toga, but he's still leagues behind Tomura. He's always going to be behind him, weighing him down. 
He looks along the row and finds one that costs two hundred yen to play. He should just get this over with. It's a mystery gotcha that says that it's stocked with classic arcade items like sticky hands and novelty erasers, to 'higher end' prizes like headphones, fidget toys, and possibly a voucher to play one of the expensive game machines. He puts in his coins and cranks the wheel, listening to the capsules inside shift around. One drops into the slot and he grabs it. It rattles in the capsule so he figures that it's not the voucher and pops it open. On top of the prize is a little piece of paper that shows it's an insect shaped phone charm, and that he could have won a grasshopper, cicada, rollie pollie, butterfly, or... firefly. Dabi isn't expecting the way that makes his heart start to race as he picks up the black plastic pouch the charm was stored in and tears it open. 
He doesn't know why he feels like he might cry for the first time in years when he sees the little black body, its wings spread open to show its yellow butt, which the paper says will glow in the dark. But Dabi has to take a second to figure out how to compose himself before he turns to find Tomura. The other man hasn't gone far, staying in the row of machines that Dabi will have a clear line of sight to. He sees him bend down to pick up his new prize and Dabi thinks about just... leaving. He could go first, and then it will be his fault in a more direct way when this all falls apart. Everyone will be mad at him for being a dick, and they won't ask him why he can't just let himself be happy for as long as he can hold on to this. 
But Tomura turns around and immediately spots him and smiles. It's such a good smile. It lights him up from the inside out. Dabi doesn't want to ruin that for him, not now. He can wait. He'll let Tomura shatter his heart into pieces if it means he doesn't have to break his instead. His boyfriend comes over to him, "What did you get?" 
"Here, you can have it," He says before he can reboot his brain to say anything smarter than that. 
His heart fucking breaks a lot sooner than expected when Tomura takes the charm out of his hand and laughs. "Oh, firefly, that's perfect. I got you something too." It's a miracle he reaches into his bags, digging down towards the bottom, taking his eyes off of him as Dabi has to blink back the slightly red mistiness in his eyes from how in his head he's gotten over the past... however long they've been here. "Something so that you can keep me close even when we're apart." He pulls out a little moth plush, just big enough to fit in his palm with a fake fur ruff around its neck, big red eyes, and soft flappy wings on either side of its body. His chest warms and takes it. 
"Thanks, Duster." 
Tomura puts the charm on his phone, and then pulls him close for a kiss. 
"If it comes down between Spinner tying with you, or me and Jin tying, tell them you got the charm too. I want to take a bath in the tub the two of you are fucking wasting." Tomura laughs, 
"Very underhanded, firefly. Absolutely." Tomura still has five more coins, so he cranks through five of the one hundred yen gotchas since it's starting to get late, and they know at least two of the others are also already finished. 
He's wearing his gloves, always does when he's going to be in crowds where someone could bump into him outside of his control, and he puts the bags all on one arm so that he can lace their fingers together before they head back downstairs to find the others.
"If you guys come here so often, what do you do with all the prizes?" Dabi asks as he tries to pull himself out of the heavy doubts that have been clinging to him so violently all night. 
"Toga gets to pick through all of the plush to find ones she likes, then we donate the rest of them to a charity that gives them to kids in hospitals as a part of their 'buddy' program." 
"Oh, that's sweet." 
"Don't start thinking too highly of us, all of the figures and other stuff we take to a resale place and put that money towards our practice tournament prize. Whoever has the best score at the end of the month gets to spend it on whatever they want." 
Dabi snorts as they make it downstairs and spot their friends standing off to the side of the exit. Toga is beaming, holding her plush close to her chest, and Jin looks defeated. Spinner's bags look smaller than Tomura's but that doesn't mean much when the size of the prizes range from the capsules to plushies the size of Dabi's torso. They count up the prizes, Spinner and Tomura absolutely sweeping the rest of them with ten actual prizes and then Spinner snapping, 
"Oh fuck you! Gotchas don't count!" 
"We never said that." Tomura snarks right back, unwaveringly. It's an underhanded way to win, and Tomura doubles down, saying that he'll win something with four hundred yen if the money he spent on the capsules doesn't count. He manages to win the prize that pushes him over the edge with one coin, and then just because he is such a cocky asshole, he also wins a second one with the last three coins.
They go to get soba, ditch their friends at karaoke, and go back to Tomura's apartment.
When Dabi's curled up against his chest, looking at the firefly charm glowing away on the nightstand, and Tomura presses a kiss against his hair and murmurs,
"Love you, Dabi," He can't manage to make his throat work to say it back, but he holds onto him tighter, leans up to try and kiss him harder. He doesn't know how long he'll get to have this, any of the good things in his life. But Tomura is the best, and he is going to hold on for as long as he can and savor every second of it. 
Thank you so much for reading!
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Hiii!!! Love thy works!
If it's alright with you, may I please request Regina George x Reader?
Scenario: Every day, the reader comes to school with all sorts of bruises and injuries. Like, every single day. That's when, Regina finds out that the reader is part of an underground fight club to pay for their sickly mother's treatment because the reader is very poor.
Always Hurt
|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader
|| Warnings; swearing, little agnsty, reader's mother is sick, injured reader, short fic
|| Summary; reader was always hurt when they came to school. Always. Regina finally has enough and decides to ask them about it.
Requests open!
Started; September 19th
Finished; September 19th
~~~
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Regina was sick of seeing you with some new injury every day. Every time she laid eyes on you there would be some new bandage wrap added to your body. Today was her final straw when she saw the stitch just above your eye.
She walked right over to your locker, crowds splitting so she could get through. Regina cleared her throat to get your attention as her arms folded across her chest," What the actual fuck?"
You immediately froze. A million different scenarios ran through your head as you looked at your girlfriend, seeing the intense gaze she had on you. No, not on you. Well yes on you but focused on something just above your eyes. Then you remembered your stitches. Great...
"Regina-"
"I need names, Y/N." Her tone was just as demanding as that look in her eyes. You swallowed.
"Names..?"
"Who's been doing this to you?" She gestured to all of you. Which made you sigh.
"Technically, me." You stated as you pulled out your text book, then paused when you saw the startled look on your girlfriend's face and realized how that must have sounded," No, no. God. That came out wrong. I mean. I signed up for a fight clu-"
The words weren't even out of your mouth when Regina spoke," I'm sorry, what? FIGHT CLUB? ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY-"
This time you cut her off, cupping your hand to her mouth as you dragged her to the closest bathroom. She bit your hand which made you flinch and let go, shaking your hand slightly.
"Ow."
"Deserved." Regina scoffed," I can't believe how absolutely moronic you are. Joining a fight club? I can't express this enough, what the HELL?"
You grimaced as she raised her voice and tried arguing your side, but she just cut you off again.
"You better have a damn good reason, Y/N because I swear-"
"It's for my mom!" You kind of just blurted it out. Trying to let yourself be heard over Regina's rant.
Regina paused as she heard you and studied your expression, you looked like you were on the verge of tears. Which made her reel in just a little. She could tell you weren't lying to her.
"It's for my mom..." You repeated, your voice almost a whispered murmur now," she hasn't been doing great and this was the only job I could get that would actually pay what I need for her recovery and I-"
"Your mom's sick?" Regina asked, you nodded.
"She has been for a while."
Regina sighed and flicked your forehead, you swatted her hand away," You're still moronic. You could have come to me. I spend probably what you need on shoes alone." She rolled her eyes, arms back across her chest," my parents wouldn't notice if it was missing."
"You'd do that..?" You just stared at her. Trying your best not to cry.
"Well it's either that or watch you get your stupid ass beat. What do you think I'm picking, dumbass?"
You laughed a little, despite it all. Then pulled Regina into a tight hug, one that she was about to pull away from until she heard your sobs. She grumbled and gave your back a pat. Not being the best at comforting.
"Three, two..." She then started counting once the hug went on a little too long for her public comfort, you quickly let go. Understanding her boundary.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." She started walking out of the bathroom, with you following. She looked back at you," Seriously. Don't."
"Scared people will think you're soft?" You gave her a playful nudge.
"You're fucking stupid." She muttered.
"I love you too." You gave her forehead a kiss and she pushed you away from her, which made you laugh.
She really tries to act like she doesn't care.
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asherraccoon · 2 days
Text
Care- Radioapple- Hurt/comfort, fluff-Requested-ish?
(Anon didn't specify a plot, they only asked for Radioapple hurt/comfort)
Charlie was getting worried. Her dad hadn't left his room in several weeks. Not even to come eat. She had figured Lucifer was just busy, being a king and all, but he's been really quiet. More than usual. She had been bringing food for him and leaving it outside his door, and it was always gone when she went to check, but she didn't know if Lucifer was actually eating it. 
Vaggie looked at Charlie and set a hand on her shoulder. “Have you checked up on your dad recently?” She asked. 
Charlie sighed. “I tried too but he wont open up the door. The most I got was an 'I'm fine’ and 'don't worry’ but he didn't sound fine. He sounded… tired…” Charlie crossed her arms. “I think he's fallen into a depressive episode,” 
Vaggie cupped Charlie's cheek. “He'll be okay, I'm sure of it,” she said with a smile, attempting to comfort her girlfriend. 
Charlie leaned into Vaggie's hand and held her wrist. “I hope so…”
“Maybe you can get Alastor to check up on him? The two have been getting closer lately and sometimes it's easier to trust friends than it is to trust family,” Vaggie suggested. 
Charlie nodded. “Yeah, maybe…” 
__________________________
After having been requested by Charlie, Alastor made his way to Lucifer's room. He hadn't admitted it aloud, but he was getting a bit concerned when he noticed Lucifer hadn't been leaving his room for a good few weeks. He stopped outside of Lucifer's room. The door was a golden color with a red apple and a white snake painted on it. He knocked three times. “Lucifer,” 
It was silent on the other side of the door. 
“Lucifer,” Alastor repeated, a bit louder. 
No response. 
Alastor's ears lowered. He merged into the shadows and teleported into Lucifer's room. 
Lucifer's room was messy. More so than usual. There were some dishes on his desk, none of them were empty. Some had half eaten meals on them, others looked as though they'd only had 3 bites taken from them. 
Alastor looked at the bed, where Lucifer was hiding underneath the blankets. Alastor approached. “Lu,” he said softly. He pulled the blanket away from Lucifer's face. 
Lucifer looked up at Alastor. He had bags under his eyes and tear stained cheeks. His hair was dirty and greasy. It looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in a while. 
Ah, so it was a depressive episode. 
Alastor sat down on the edge of the bed. “Lucifer, dear,” he ran his hand through Lucifer's messy hair. 
Lucifer let out a small whine and tightly squeezed the deer plush he was cuddling. He hid his face in the plush's neck. “Go away,” he said quietly. 
Alastor hummed and sighed. He stood up. 
Lucifer was a bit relieved when Alastor stood, thinking he was leaving. He wasn't expecting to be suddenly grabbed and lifted. 
Alastor picked up Lucifer, holding him bridal position in his arms. 
Lucifer squeaked as he was picked up. He leaned into Alastor and hugged his deer plush close. He didn't bother fighting. “Where're we going?” He mumbled. 
“Bathroom, you're filthy,” Alastor said, carrying Lucifer to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. 
Lucifer whined quietly. “I don't wanna shower,” he complained. 
“That's why I'm going to help you,” Alastor said. He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He set Lucifer down on the edge of the bathtub and turned on the water, plugging the drain. 
Lucifer watched the water spill from the faucet. “Why?” He asked. 
“I'm not going to let you lay there in your own filth, Lu,” Alastor replied. He held his hand under the water, testing the temperature. When he decided it was good, he stood and walked back into the bedroom. Alastor removed the dirty bedsheets with his magic and replaced them with clean ones. Once that was done, he returned to the bathroom. 
Lucifer held his deer plush in his lap, playing with its ears. 
“Does it have a name?” Alastor asked, gesturing to Lucifer's deer. 
Lucifer looked up at him. “Uh... No… I just call him Deer,” he said quietly, a little embarrassed. 
Alastor hummed. “Is he your favorite?” He asked. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching the water fill up. 
Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” 
“I would have expected a duck to be your favorite,” Alastor said teasingly. He chuckled softly. 
Lucifer blushed. “W-well, deers are cool too…” he fiddled with one of Deer's antlers. 
“It's 'deer’, not 'deers’, Lucifer,” Alastor corrected. 
“Uh- sorry…” Lucifer held the toy up to his face, attempting to hide his embarrassment.
“It's a simple mistake,” Alastor shrugged. He turned the faucet off. 
Lucifer's hand pet Deer's fur, distracting himself from the embarrassment he felt. 
“Bath is ready,” Alastor told him. He stood up and knelt in front if Lucifer. “Can I put Deer on the counter? He'll be right where you can see him,” he requested. 
Lucifer hesitated. He didn't really let other people hold his comfort items, but he felt Alastor could be trusted. He handed the toy to Alastor. “Just be careful with him,” 
Alastor took the plush and stood. He set it on the bathroom counter, giving it a pat on the head before returning to Lucifer. “Ready?” He asked. 
Lucifer fidgeted, but he gave a nod.
-----------------------
Alastor rubbed the soap into Lucifer's hair. He gently scratched and massaged his scalp, attempting to get the dirt and filth out. 
Lucifer sat in the water with his knees hugged against his chest. He wasn't used to having someone care for him. It felt weird. He spoke up after a couple minutes. “Why do you care?” He questioned, his eyes on the wall. 
Alastor paused for a moment. He then continued his movements. “Because I enjoy being with you, Lucifer,” he said softly. “I don't like seeing you so depressed and tired,” 
Lucifer stayed quiet after that. He allowed Alastor to wash his hair, feeling too tired to fight or argue. 
“Are you hungry at all?” Alastor asked him. 
Lucifer shook his head. “No. My appetite hasn't been very good lately,” he replied.  
Alastor tilted Lucifer's head back to pour water over his head, rinsing the shampoo away. “Well, is there anything else that you need?” He wondered. 
Lucifer shrugged. “I just wanna be left alone,” he muttered. 
“Well, that's certainly not happening,” Alastor said. He finished rinsing out the shampoo and started conditioning Lucifer's hair. 
“Why not?”
“Because isolation isn't a good way to deal with your depression, Lucifer,” the deer demon said. “You say that you're lonely yet you isolate and neglect yourself. You can't combat fire with fire, Lucifer,” 
Lucifer felt tears well up in his eyes. “I-I know…” he mumbled. 
“Then why do you do it?” 
Lucifer took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I guess it's just… I don't…” he sighed and bowed his head. “Whenever I go into these episodes… my brain likes to tell me that I deserve to be sad. I deserve to be alone,” he explained. “And I can't help but believe those thoughts are true. It feels like everything is my fault. It feels like I'm the worst… I don't know what to do in that situation other than isolate myself and let myself rot…”  
Alastor listened. His ear twitched as he heard a sob escape Lucifer's mouth. His ears lowered. Was he too hard on him? He did kind of pressure Lucifer into talking. Shit. Now he felt bad.
Lucifer sniffled. He wiped a tear from his cheek. “Fuck…” he whimpered. 
Alastor took a breath. “Look, Lucifer,” he spoke gently. “Isolation and self-neglect… Those aren't good ways to cope. And I know that it's hard to take care of yourself when you're down in the lowest, but you've gotta talk to someone about it so they can help you,” he rinsed the conditioner out of Lucifer's hair. 
“But it's hard to talk to people…” Lucifer said shakily. He sniffled again. “I-I don't want t-to b-burden them…” 
“You won't burden me, Lucifer. I'm here to listen to you and comfort you when you need it,” Alastor responded. He squeezed the extra water from Lucifer's hair and then reached for the drain to pull it. He shook his wet arm when he removed it from the water. 
Lucifer shivered at the loss of warmth the water had given. He hugged himself tighter. “Cold,” he spoke quietly. 
“We'll get you into some clothes in a moment,” Alastor said, grabbing a towel. He handed the towel to Lucifer for him to dry off and summoned some fresh clothes with his magic, making sure they were comfortable enough for Lucifer. 
------------------------
Once he was clothed, Lucifer took his deer plush off of the bathroom counter and held it close. 
Alastor took a hair brush and stood behind Lucifer. He began brushing Lucifer's hair, making sure to get all the knots and tangles that hadn't been gotten rid of in the bath. 
Lucifer winced a little when knots were brushed out. “Ow,” he whispered.
“Sorry,” Alastor apologized. He set the hairbrush aside once he was done. “Do you want or need anything else, Lucifer?” He asked. 
Lucifer hesitated. He hid his face in the plush. “I-I don't wanna be alone… can you please hold me? Just for a little?” He mumbled shyly. 
Alastor nodded, his expression soft. “Of course, darling,” he said softly. He put his arms around Lucifer and picked him up.
Lucifer hid his face in Alastor's shoulder. 
Alastor carried Lucifer out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He set Lucifer down on the bed for a moment. He sat down beside him and then pulled Lucifer back into his arms. 
Lucifer leaned on Alastor. He kept most of his focus on Deer, playing with the plush's ears. Being in Alastor's arms felt nice. He was warm. He made Lucifer feel safe. He closed his eyes, sighing softly as he pressed closer to Alastor. 
Alastor played with Lucifer's hair. A faint click was heard from Alastor's chest before a soft song began to play. He hummed along with it. 
Lucifer blinked at the sudden music, but he didn't say or do anything. He listened to Alastor's humming and the music. He let out a quiet exhale. “Thank you… for taking care of me…” he mumbled quietly. 
“Of course, mon cher,” Alastor replied, combing his fingers through Lucifer's hair. 
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ghouldtime · 19 hours
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Hiii it's me again lol
Okayokay, so I just finished reading your rant on the COD fandom's unique choice of pet names, and I'm gonna be straight up and say I'm going completely off topic and INSTEAD veer off to a side thing you pointed out to give my own opinion! This is a kinda hot take so I'm just screaming into the void hoping someone shares my thoughts 🖤
Sooo we all know the Ghost comics released alongside the OG MW2. I personally haven't read it due to the TWs but I've seen enough screenshots and summaries to get the gist of what happens. HOWEVER I believe those comics are only canon to 09 Ghost and doesn't apply to reboot Ghost, and this is what I meant about it being a hot take cuz almost everyone in the fandom agrees the comics happens for both. And I can definitely see why! I mean, we didn't exactly get any concrete backstory regarding reboot Ghost, so anything goes.
Where I stand on the line, I'm a firm believer of reboot Ghost being Just A Guy™️like he had a (relatively) chill childhood but there are some things that stay the same with the comics. Like Tommy scaring him with the skeleton mask when they were children, and Simon enlisting after the 9/11 attack (not sure if those are canon, it's just what I've heard so please correct me if I'm wrong). No abusive father, no Roba, no Christmas trauma. Sure it makes him less interesting but I find it pretty amusing how the person wearing a skull print balaclava has no real reason behind wearing it other than it looking cool lmao
Anyway, yap fest over! Hope you have a wonderful day/night and remember to hydrate! 🖤
- Biscuits 🌺
SALUTATIONS it's good to see you again, I hope you're doing swell as well :D 💚💚💚
Technically, what you're saying is true!
The '09 comics pair with the '09 character and are indeed cannon for only him as far as I'm aware (someone feel free to correct me if I'm wrong). The reboot lacks a true significant backstory. As in, if you search it up, you basically get "he joined the SAS and is super cool and is great at doing cool soldier things and probably can do a sick backflip". What we know about the reboot is basically what we experience in game. And until we get either another game focusing on his earlier life or have confirmed scenes of it, we really don't know.
Personally, how I distinguish "Ghost" as a being is as three versions.
You have '09 Ghost. '09 Ghost is the one we experienced in the OG games and the comics. He's the dead one - and the one with the actual official backstory. Those are both cannon and are tied to him as a character.
You then have Reboot Ghost. Reboot Ghost is, as the name entails, the reboot alone. Basically, what we have of him and know of him is what we experience in game. Technically, we don't know his backstory and the full extent of his life. Is it similar to his '09 counterpart? We don't know. He's kinda the "What you see is what you get". There's some things implied with his dialog but most of his story is up for debate.
And then we have what I'm calling Fandom Ghost who is the most common variant. Fandom Ghost is neither the reboot nor the '09 version - he's a middle ground. He's what everyone is thinking of when you hear 'Ghost'. Usually how I've seen him portrayed is the reboot with the '09 backstory or some semblance of that.
(Side note: I know it's quite typical to specify when you're referring to '09 Ghost specifically because he does, of course, have a very different history and outcome. Not to mention, the dynamics with him and Soap are very different than in the reboot which is another reason why people usually clarify and go "This is who I mean")
I've never actually seen a TRUE reboot Ghost that wasn't fandom based or fanon in writing, now that I think about it. Probably because it's not that easy to write about a character in a limited sense where you don't know much about them and you have to stick to the limited material you're given.
A lot of COD operators lack a significant backstory outside of their military history. That's mainly done because they're videogame characters of a military, shooting focused game and they don't usually have the time to go into depth as to why that character is the way they are. They're primarily soldiers who are saving the world and playing their role. You might see snippets here and there but the focus isn't on their background or the inner workings of their character in a very personal way, aside from what is revealed on missions to add a natural perspective and make them see more human
Because it's not like in the middle of a life or death situation you're going to sit down and explain that you had a dog growing up, you had three sisters, your favorite drink is Baja Blast, and you have a lifelong fear of Burger King.
'09 Ghost, however, we GOT a backstory. We were given something to work with. Clinging to that or melding it with the reboot, who lacks a backstory, is what a lot do because it's trying to make use of the best source material we got until we can maybe get something else too. Personally I was a fan of that backstory because it DID add depth to him, significantly so. I liked it.
Additionally, I think a LOT of people go that route too because it's something that's quite easy to look up so they don't need to make something themselves
(This is an entire theory and me putting on my tinfoil hat: There's a lot of people in the COD fandom who are just here for the big beefy men and don't do their research, haven't played the games - they're just assuming things. And when they see the fandom Ghost, they just assume it's true, and it spreads when they write their own stories. I hope this doesn't read like I'm trying to gatekeep or 'HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW EVERYTHING' or 'you're not a true fan unless-', cause I really really really do not care. Do what makes you happy, but I'm going to avoid reading what I feel mischaracterizes him for sexual purposes alone hardcore)
I also like to imagine that maybe the team doing the reboots has enough common sense too to not entirely scrap such a backstory as hey, it IS interesting, so there's a strong possibility that reboot might share some origins. Kidding, I'm being fully delusional here and know they won't do that and will likely just ruin it and I'm hoping they don't have a chance. I know any new one they come up with -like the writing in the last campaign -would be utter carbonated hot dog water and I do not trust them at alllllll. I'm refusing to accept reboot Soap's death but that's a rant for another time
That being said though, there's technically no correct backstory yet for Reboot! Ghost aside from what we already know. Anything that adds backstory or melds anything else to him is making him fanon/fandom!Ghost (which is by far the most common iteration and the one people default too)
I love when people give him, and other COD characters, happy or somewhat not dramatic backstories. They already have enough going on with the wars they're thrown in, I live for them having a scrap of happiness and normality. I can't blame people for not wanting to write or deal with heavy backstories and it's nice to see variety and is SO super valid.
But at the same time, I also do like his OG backstory, I love seeing when people dig deeper into the gritty stuff too, exploring that side of characters because not everyone has the best life growing up. And joining the military and when they join can be telling too about their home life
Variety is the variety of life and when there's not exactly a cannon, then I love seeing people make their own reasonings and conclusions and write fanfics with their own theories. It's SO fun to explore what other people think and it really results in some of the sweetest fics that dive more into depth than the official writing team ever could hope to
The Ghost that I write are usually AU Ghosts anyhow so it allows me more flexibility in what I write. BUT if I'm writing for Ghost, I do the blend where it has more of the '09's backstory but his reboot vibes. THAT BEING SAID
I love making him just, A Dude©, still despite that. Having a bad past doesn't make him any less of a person - nor does it make him this ultra mega tough dominant edgy sigma bad boy. He's literally just a GUY. Sure, he has extensive SAS experience and training to boot. Sure, he's easily one of their top soldiers. He's a stone cold killer when he's Ghost. He's there to do the job.
But Simon? Simon's just a dude, like everyone else - they all are at the end of the day. Sure, they have their own personal struggles and do have to go through a lot, but they're still people. He goes to the grocery store and is genuinely confused about all the options of milk now (how the hell did they milk HEMP). He still makes his bed and has to fight the fitted sheet to stay on, using his size and strength to force it in place before it can do 'the thing' that all fitted sheets somehow do. He bought a bird feeder so he could watch the wildlife as he drinks his tea for breakfast. Speaking of tea, he has a whole collection! And the good shit, you know he won't settle for any less.
He's just A DUDE© at the end of the day and I love those mundane things because hell, he needs them to still feel human and to be reminded exactly what he's fighting for
I just find it so silly and ridiculous when he's consistently like "I'M Batman: I AM THE NIGHT" sheer dramatic levels of broody in stories or when he's put in as this mega dommy bad boy who is 6'5", growling constantly, and is like the posterchild for a wattpad biketok fanfic.
Lmaooo be for real, he's out here doing arts and crafts to make his masks. He has a whole paint collection and everything. He went into the craft store for paint and came out with two new hobbies and no, I'm not listening to anyone who says otherwise
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hyperfixatedhells · 2 days
Text
hyperspecific sso nostalgia
"you have taken a dangerous fall" or falling off of a cliff so many times that you get taken back to your stable. also the screen turning red when this happened.
magic horses only turning magic if theyre away from civilization.
having to spam W or else your horse will slow down.
waiting for the bus and using the bus ticket.
using the circus ticket.
having to drag and drop items from your inventory.
jojo siwa at the disco.
spirit around jorvik.
collecting the stars and being so excited upon finding one.
certain horses being cold tolerant, [fjord, icelandic, etc] the others slowing down upon entering the valley of the hidden dinosaur.
finding gary goldtooth in the middle of nowhere.
low quality saddle bag pets and that stupid torn saddle bag.
not being able to stack items.
having to build reputation to progress.
the saving nightdust quest.
april fools updates, especially the 2016 supershire.
the summer bonfire event, the birthday event, the st. patricks day event, all of the holiday and seasonal events.
how the areas would be decorated for valentines day, easter, etc.
those things that would temporarily change your starter horses coat into all sorts of wacky things.
the barrel race in moorland.
the old filter.
the trailers being star rider only.
the closets being star rider only.
jumping being star rider only, and justin teaching you how to jump.
no jumping in towns/cities.
the original home stable.
waiting for the fairies and just BARELY missing it.
the baronesses racetrack being under construction for SO LONG.
jorvik not having any snow during christmas.
the 2017 character update and the ORIGINAL original character, plus the original weird looking starter horse.
horse island.
unnamed stable girl, the one that came before maya.
all of the old npcs.
when you enter a new area, the name of it would flash in the middle of your screen.
speed boosts on roads.
star stable news with ylva and matilda.
the loading screen stable cat who gave you tips.
the kallters.
having to build your reputation with the hermit to buy his horses and having to build your reputation with the kallters to buy fjord horses.
the iceberg and the seals.
the clothing and tack being basically unidentifiable until you hovered over them, because the items just had a gray or gold icon with what the item actually classified as. [aka what it looks like on mobile]
the fort pinta shark.
the global store not being around and having to buy things directly from the shops or the mall.
the infamous purple car and bulldozer that would run you over.
having to fill your houses needs multiple times a day plus the little smiley face mood thingy.
only being able to care for your horse near stables.
only having three uses for your water bucket.
unused furniture.
starshine roaming around greendale.
the "glue man" and the little girl in your stable singing during halloween.
wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
the chat filter being called phil.
stacy place oh god stacy place. also archie fails
all of the star stable commercials and ads, especially that one fucking disney channel commercial.
please add your own nostalgias onto this post i would love to hear them
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medra-gonbites · 1 day
Text
Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Head Canon Party Edition
Tav is throwing a party for their birthday. The playlist is ready, the neighbors are warned and the balloons are blown.
Here is what the companions (and three surprise party crashers) would bring to that little soirée.
Laezel | A strange liquor nobody has heard of
Impossible to know what it is, the label is written in a different alphabet. It has a crazy high alcohol percentage. Never mind it tastes like diesel: it's strong and if you want to get drunk it will get you there. Also it was crazy cheap so she bought 5 bottles (which she'll be the one drinking).
Gale | Some fancy ass bourbon
Nobody will drink it, because it is not that kind of night, Gale! He spends 19 minutes explaining to Tav why this vintage is special and what kind of smoky and woody hints they should get from the taste as well as an extensive story about where it was brewed (some place in the Highlands with blind dwarven monks no doubt).
Shadowheart | Wine 
It is a lower to mid quality bottle but she actually spends all evening drinking cocktails mostly composed of juice and vodka: she likes wine but it stains her teeth and gives her a headache, plus she really likes bright colors in her drinks. If there is Passoa and orange juice and the weather is nice she will be giving it a go. 
Wyll | Tequila
Alongside lemons and salt. The group complains because it’s just not something that gets drinken casually. However, they all end up taking shots around 3am and pass out and/or barf. Wyll is the only one who does not have a hangover the next day because he drinks water in between shots. Will make the cocktails if he is being asked nicely (he brought his shaker as well).
Karlach | Beer
She either comes with two 64-beer crates, one on each shoulder, or a keg (with a funnel and a pipe). She drinks most of these together with Wyll and burps loudly before shouting 'better in than out' and belly laugh herself to cramps. If the beers are canned, she will crush them on her forehead once they are downed. Ultimate beer pong winner.
Astarion | Shows up empty-handed
He feigns he didn't know or that he ran out of time to get something but he'll promise to bring something the next time (which is a lie as he already promised last time at Karlach’s costume party). He will leave with Gale’s expensive bourbon though and gift it to one his teacher from law school (in order to bribe them, of course).
Halsin |Juices
Not these industrial juice boxes mind you, but some organic 100% fruit, no added sugar juice from the bio coop. Or better yet he makes the juices himself - If the time of year is right he will make punch or sangria himself (and be careful it’s sweet but it is treacherous).
Minthara | Cocaïne
Nobody wants to do any. Frankly, Minthara did not read the audience  well. Astarion is willing but feels the vibe and decides not to (he takes her dealer's number for later though)). She ends up doing a line alone in the kitchen. At the height of the night when she's loaded and drunk she makes out with Gale or bullies him (or both).
Jaheira | Soda and ice
To be fair, all kinds of soda, and not just the generic crap either, the good brands. Bubbles no bubbles, fruity, bitter, sweet, you name it. She does not drink as she is the designated driver for her and Minsc (no way they're sleeping over with these kids) so she spends her night sipping on some ginger ale.
Minsc | Goblets
A lot of them. While it was disappointing at first it turns out to be a super sharp idea. Either to drink from or play beer pong they came in extremely handy. Halsin will pout and comment on the sustainability issue. Minsc drinks water but takes a new cup everytime he gets another drink (partly because he is proud of his goblet idea, partly to antagonize Halsin).
Durge | Flour
They are Tav's neighbour and they were invited out of politeness and actually showed up. They come with flour because “hey, remember when I borrowed some, years ago, there, I’m bringing it back like I said I would. We are even now”. They have the best jokes but they will try and start a fight over the playlist (they have issues with music it seems).
Here are a couple of party crashers who were not invited but came anyways.
Barcus | Airfryer and Snacks
He shows up very early to Tav's surprise. He was not exactly invited but thought he was due to Tav mentioning the party to him at work. Upon seeing him Tav is actually happy though and his glad he popped by. He brought his airfryer and some fried goods and that's just awesome.
Volo | His guitar
He was not invited and knew it but he shows up anyway. He will complain about the music the whole time while drinking wine and take his guitar to try and play wonderwall for everyone, even though nobody asked. Lae’zel will lock him on the balcony at some point during the night.
Gortash | Cheap Vodka
He was also not invited. He was told explicitly he was not but what can you do.... His shirt is way too open on his chest, he wears way too much cologne and his pockets are full of condoms. He tries to get into Shadowheart’s pants all night, refilling her glass constantly but he’ll end up at Durge's place next door.
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