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I just want to get it out there that Elon Musk keeps saying – in words – that the Trump plan is to crash the economy. He keeps saying it, because he thinks it’s a good thing. Ordinary Americans will have to “embrace the pain.” People like him won’t have to do that, of course not!
But, you know.
You.
The little people.
Then and only then, after a big crash, will the economy be allowed to recover under what one supposes would be a new hyper-austerity regime.
From all historical experience, this “austerity” regime would really be a looter regime. It’d also be deflationary, which is great if you’re a billionaire and terrible if you’re everyone else, since most people will make less and less over time, while the billionaires will keep more and more since the rich won’t be paying any taxes, and the value of their stored wealth – their idle, uninvested, non-productive money caches – will increase all on its own.
The MAGA government would be gambling on the idea that American memory is so short that they’ll forget before the collapse.
Well, that, and…
And I give this credence because, well, one, yeah, Trump’s plans will crash the economy. But I also give it credence because of something Trump said before even running for office. He said this:
When the economy crashes, when the country goes to total hell and everything is a disaster, then you’ll have riots to go back to where we used to be when we were great. – Donald J. Trump on Fox and Friends, 2014
Because Elon’s saying that’s the plan this time. It wasn’t the plan last time maybe, but it’s the plan this time. And “go back to where we used to be” was white supremacy with women as men’s property. That’s what he wants.
Trump’s Director of Whitehouse Personnel just today called to end voting rights for women, saying that women shouldn’t vote and that the 19th Amendment “might have to go.”
I mean really, at this point in the campaign, what people generally need to be focusing on is getting out the vote. But sometimes things happen that are big enough to talk about, like the explosion of race hate coming out of the Trump rally at Madison Square Garden on Sunday. And that raw hatred – and their doubling down on it on Monday and Tuesday – is the most important item this week, absolutely.
But for the “fuck you I got mine” crowd amongst your friends, particularly the ones who are perfectly happy to laugh at racial hate jokes and really kinda like it since hey, it’s not their problem, well…
I would think that intentionally crashing the economy might give them something to care about.
Just maybe.
Because Elon keeps saying it, out loud. Elon, who would be in a Trump administration, who would be the one doing the broad strokes of fiscal planning, keeps saying that they will crash the economy, and that they will do it on purpose.
That might be something to tell your more racist family and friends.
Maybe – just maybe – they’ll care about that.
5 days remain.
#us politics#american politics#fascism#election 2024#2024 election#2024 elections#elon musk#billionaires#oligarchy
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BAD THINGS
SUMMARY: Maybe she should get your boyfriend out of the way to make you desperate just for her…
pairing: billie eilish x !fem reader
WARNINGS: smut, strap (r receiving), fingering, !toxic/dom billie, !sub reader, oral, dark side, cheating, stalking, bullying, mommy kink, pet names (babe, good girl, princess)
wc: 2,3k
a/n: HI GUYS ik you saw this fic before, but my blog js’ crashed idk why so hi again!! | english is not my first language! sorry if there may be some stupid mistakes in the text
a little inspired by oxytocin.
Los Angeles High School wasn't the best place for you, but you had people you cared about here, so you accepted everything that happened to you. You accepted your fate, all the shit that happened to you. You accepted all the taunts and mockery of the beautiful black-haired girl with the rotten heart. She was insanely sexy and attractive, but she was always cruel to you, never missing a chance to humiliate you. And you could say that sometimes it made you weak. But no one needed to know that.
"Why don't you be a good girl and get the fuck out of here?" She hissed in your ear every time you stood in the hallway. Her eyes were still playful when she looked at you like she was going to devour you. And you didn't know in what sense this. "You're going to have to work harder to make me be a good girl, Billie." You were just being mean to her, like she was to you. You had no other choice.
Once you answered her with something so sharp that for the first seconds she just stood there, looking into your eyes with a strange desire. To finally subjugate you. But you couldn't read it anymore. "Billie?" She was so strange that you started to get scared. Eilish didn't answer and just walked away. She didn't say a word, didn't turn around even once. It was very strange, but you just forgot about it. At least you tried very hard.
— — —
You were sitting in your room and a little worried, because your parents went on a business trip for a few days and so your boyfriend promised to stay with you that night. It was already 10:44 PM, but he was supposed to come at 8:00 PM. You called him a dozen times already, but it was pointless. You decided to distract yourself and go to the shower. The cold water pleasantly cooled your body, hot from stress.
You managed to put on your nightgown. It was quite short, but you weren't expecting anyone. You dried your hair a little when the doorbell rang insistently on the first floor. "What the hell..." You whispered under your breath when you went downstairs. You thought your boyfriend would be there, but...
"Billie? What are you doing here?" Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at her. You couldn't help but notice the way she was looking at your body. "How do you know my address?" The words came out quietly, but she heard them.
"Your boyfriend is with you?" She had a predatory smile on her face as she finally looked at your face. You felt like she already knew the answer. You wanted to ask her again why the hell she was standing on your doorstep, but your mind was still in her hands. "No…" There was desperation in your voice, which only made her more excited. She chuckled, walking into your house without your permission. You were confused, but Billie didn't give you a chance to say anything.
"I know. Because he's at my party." She turned to you, clearly enjoying your scared look. "You should have seen him begging me to touch him..." Billie walked up to you. Her hand brushed your cheek. "I bet he never begged you like he did me."
You felt sick to your stomach when you heard that. You just couldn't believe she would do that just to hurt you. You tried to hold back your tears as you took a step away from her. "Go away." You felt like you were choking as you tried to walk into the kitchen to get yourself some water. You couldn't understand why you believed her words. Billie had been watching your actions the whole time. She wasn't going to leave. She had gone too far.
"Did you really think he was that good and only loved you? Poor, poor little girl..." Her voice suddenly sounded very close to you as you looked into her eyes. There was a meat grinder inside you, mixing all your organs into mush. You had never felt so awful. "Please, just leave me alone." There was so much desperation in your voice that Billie briefly considered leaving.
"Hush, baby. How can I leave you alone after this?" She stepped closer to you, pressing her body against yours. You looked up at her, trying to understand what was happening. "What?" Your hands fell to the counter where your back was pressed.
"Your boyfriend finally showed his true colors. So why can't I take advantage of your desperation? I just have to show you what you really deserve." Her words seemed so strange and false that you just started to go crazy. "He cheated on me with you. I hate you..." Tears streamed down your cheeks as Billie chuckled. You could hear the pleasure in every sound she made. "Oh, do you really think I touched him? No, baby, he's fucking other girls now." Those words sent a new wave of nausea up your throat.
"Don't worry, I saved everything for you..." She whispered in your ear as her hands settled on your waist. Her touch felt so heavy, or was it you who was so weak? "What are you talking about?" You forced the words out of you as you looked into her eyes. There was so much cruelty, pleasure, and power in them that your knees buckled.
"You have no idea how much I've been waiting for the moment when he would stumble. When he would make way for me to get to you. Babe, I've been waiting so long to make you so desperate..." Billie sounded so wild that it really scared you. You suddenly understood all her looks. Every thought that was behind her actions. "I'm obsessed with you."
"You're crazy..." You tried to break free from her grip, but she only held you tighter. "Because of you."
"I wanna do bad things to you." Your mind was clouded with the pain of betrayal and a strange desire. Wild and irresistible. You didn't understand why she had this effect on you. You couldn't look away. "I wanna make you yell." With every word her gaze grew darker. This was her dark side. The one no one had ever seen. Billie grabbed your hand, leading you to the second floor. She knew your house. She knew your house?
"You were staking me..." The words came out of your mouth with horror on your face. Billie led you to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. "Of course I did. I needed to impress you." She smiled predatorily, approaching you like her prey. You must have been her prey. "No one in this world can give you what I can do." She combed your hair with her fingers, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "But I don't wanna treat you well right now."
Your insane fear of her was igniting a fire of desire in you. You were disgusted with yourself, but you couldn't help yourself. You just looked at her, silently letting her do whatever she wanted.
"Good girl." Billie smiled, lifting the hem of your nightgown. She looked at your hips hungrily. "I wanna see what you can take." She led you to the bed, laying you down on your back. You felt awkward, because she was fully dressed. You were wearing too little, under her gaze you felt completely naked.
"So beautiful... Just for me." Billie smiled, removing your nightgown. The cold air sent a wave of goosebumps down your body. Billie looked at your breasts, smiling hungrily. She ran her tongue along your neck, sucking on the soft skin until she left several marks. "You're mine." It sounded so sexy that you brought your thighs together. This little naughtiness didn't escape Billie and she clicked her tongue. "No baby, keep your legs wide open for me." You whined at her words, spreading your legs. You felt humiliated, but the feeling made your pussy drip.
"That's it baby. Such an obedient girl for mommy." Your eyes widened in shock when she called herself that. You fought the urge to bring your thighs together again. "Mommy?" You whispered softly, looking into her eyes. This whole situation looked terrifying in the darkness of your room.
"I can be anything for you." She smiled, taking your hand in hers. Billie guided it down to her pants. You felt something hard in her pants. It made you gasp. "I may not have a real dick, but what I'm going to give you is so much better than your boyfriend's." Billie stood up, taking off her pants. Her thighs were curvy, you wanted to touch them. The strap looked so sexy on her. "It's big. I'm not sure I can take it..." You raised yourself up on your elbows, trying to get a better look.
"No, princess, you'll take it all. You'll let mommy fill you up to the brim, right?" Her voice sounded so sweet, you just couldn't refuse. "Yes, yes..." Billie smiled, climbing on top of you again. She pulled your panties down. She was trying to be patient, but you could see her breaking.
"Please…" You looked at her, pleading in your eyes. You needed her touch. For the first time, she looked at you seriously. "Do you need me to be gentle?" You looked into her eyes and saw how much she hoped you would let her be rough. "No." One word was enough for her to press a hungry kiss to your lips. She devoured you as her fingers settled on your clit. Her movements were slow at first, until you moaned into her mouth. She couldn't hold on any longer. You sighed as two of her fingers found their way into you. Just the fingertips. It was so damn little that you immediately began to move your hips, trying to get them deeper, but Billie wouldn't let you. "You're so wet. Tell me who for and I'll give you more." There was absolute power in her voice, it made you drip harder. "You, for you…" You closed your eyes as her fingers abruptly entered your wet pussy. She moved quickly because you didn’t need to get used to it, you were so ready to be filled with her.
“So beautiful…” Billie watched as your pussy swallowed her fingers with every thrust. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to taste you, to devour you. Her head was between your thighs. She licked and sucked your clit as you writhed under her touch. “One more… One more.” You begged her for more, you could feel the mess between your legs and it made you want to cum right now. A loud moan escaped your lips as she added a third finger, stretching you out just right.
“Fuck, Billie…” You were so turned on by everything she had done to you earlier that you were ready to cum now. Billie pressed her face harder against your pussy, slapping her tongue against your clit. Your moans sent a pleasant warmth down her belly. Her fingers hit your g-spot. She stopped eating you for a second. "Cum." That was enough to make you fall apart on her tongue.
"So delicious" Billie smiled, licking her lips. It looked so dirty, but you loved it. She looked at her fingers, completely covered in your juices. "Open" You obediently opened your mouth as two of her fingers were in your mouth. It was your first time tasting yourself. You cleaned her fingers and Billie looked at you with pride. "My good girl… Now you are ready for me to destroy you. Completely" Fear was etched on your face as Billie smirked. She aligned the tip of the strap with your entrance, teasing your pussy.
"Billie, please…" Your voice broke with desperation and need. Your begging was music to her ears. You moaned loudly as half of her cock was inside you. "Fuck, so tight…" She growled into your neck, entering completely. The feeling of being filled brought tears of pleasure to your eyes. Billie gave a few slow thrusts before picking up a wild speed. Her hips were slamming against yours. You grabbed the sheets, squeezing them tightly.
"Fuck, so good..." Billie placed your legs on her shoulders, fucking you deeper at a new angle. You were going crazy when she growled in pleasure. When she destroyed you completely.
"I wanna take a picture." You didn't expect those words from her. And you didn't understand what kind of picture she wanted to take. You looked at her with disbelief. "Trust me, princess." Billie grabbed her phone, which was lying on the edge of your bed, and opened the camera. Your legs were laid sexily on her shoulders, she bit her lip, looking at the camera. Probably, if someone saw these photos, they wouldn't know whose legs these were. Only a small tattoo of an angel on your ankle could give it away. The photos were blurry, but it was even better that way. You don't know what else she did, but in a minute your phone starts ringing downstairs.
"What did you do?" You try to keep your voice steady, but your voice is shaking from the relentless thrusts. Billie smiles, leaning her head down to your face. "I think your boyfriend is just jealous."
She sent him the photo.
"Billie! What the-" Another deep thrust cut you off. Right now, the pleasure Billie was giving you was more important than your boyfriend.
"Cum for me." She sounded sweet as you fell apart on her toy. It felt so good, exactly what your boyfriend couldn't give you.
"Now, as long as you're still breathing, don't you even think of leaving"
requests open, angels !! <3
#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish fic#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish smut#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish oneshot#wlw
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series masterlist | last part
pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k words
warnings: explicit language, fluff, a tiny hint of angst(?), smut (18+), unprotected piv sex
summary: the last morning of your summer trip with steve
EPILOGUE | ❝𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔❞
There was no one on the beach except for you.
You were alone, but it didn’t feel lonely. The quietness was soothing; you only heard the sounds of the waves crashing, but even that was pretty soft.
It was warm but comfortably so, and you walked along the shore for a bit before settling on a blanket. You let out a contented sigh as you simply looked out at the ocean, focusing on the blue water and the—
It was the sun that woke you up. Pouring through the window right next to your and Steve’s bed because you two had forgotten to close the curtains last night.
The bright morning sun shining almost too perfectly in your eyes surprisingly didn’t even annoy you because you could feel the smallest smile on your face as you remembered your dream. And that immediately surprised you because you usually never remembered dreams that were so calm and simple like that one.
You pulled the blanket over your head to block out the sun because you couldn’t bear to get up and close the curtains but you wanted to try and go back to sleep. The abrupt action must have woken Steve up because you felt him shift behind you and drape an arm around your waist.
“Sorry for waking you,” You whispered as you instinctively leaned into his touch. The feel of his warm hand almost mindlessly slipping beneath your t-shirt and touching your bare skin made you sigh softly. “How are you always so warm?”
“Don’t know,” He whispered back. “You want me to close the curtains?”
“No, it’s okay,” You told him, finding his hand and lacing it with yours. Things got quiet for a moment, and then you were pulling the blanket off of your head and shifting around to face him. “Hey, guess what.”
His eyes opened then and he gave you a curious look. “What?”
“I finally had a normal dream that I actually remember.”
He smiled at your words and was quickly reminded of your joking promise to tell him whenever you had normal dreams that you remembered. “Mm, tell me everything.”
“Okay, I was alone on a beach and laying on a blanket and it was really nice,” You quickly explained. “Very simple.”
Steve nodded. “That is normal.”
“I know, I’m just like you now,” You told him and pressed a quick kiss against his nose. “Do you remember what you were just dreaming about?”
“I was having a really good dream, actually,” He answered, shifting closer to you and it was then that you felt his hard length poking at your thigh.
“Oh?” You said, pressing the softest kiss against his neck and then pulling back to meet his eyes. “Tell me everything.”
“You were there.” He kissed your forehead. “And I was there. And we were back at the hotel we stayed at in Venice.”
“Oh, I loved that place,” You jumped in, smiling. You two had lied and said that you were on your honeymoon and the front desk worker bumped you up to the newlywed suite; that was probably the best week of the trip. “Definitely my favorite place we stayed at.”
“Mine too,” Steve nodded in agreement. “So, in the dream, we were on the balcony and it was the middle of the night. I don’t know what the occasion was, but fireworks were happening in the distance. Oh, and you were all over me. Honestly, it was pretty similar to this moment.”
You had just pushed your left hand under his t-shirt and started exploring pretty much everywhere.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his playfully said words. “Wow, dream me is so accurate to real me.”
“Very much so,” Steve said, finally leaning in to kiss you and then mumbling his next words against your mouth. “And then, in the dream, you begged me to fuck you against the railing of the balcony, so I did.”
His words sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine as you gasped into the kiss.
“Fuck, why didn’t we actually do that when we were there?” You asked when you pulled back and Steve’s mouth immediately found the underside of your jaw.
“We should’ve,” He responded. His hand on your waist was suddenly pulling you even closer to him and you could feel his hard length pressing right against your underwear.
“Ah,” You moaned louder than intended. You wanted to say actual sentences and keep the banter going and prolong this moment for as long as possible, but your mind was quickly turning into mush. “I need you, Stevie.”
“Yeah?” It wasn’t hard to hear the smirk in his voice.
You nodded quickly, eyes opening again and meeting his gaze. “Please.”
You could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and practically dripping down your thigh at this point.
“I need you inside of me,” You whispered, mouth right against his ear and he could only groan in response as he buried his face in your neck.
You made quick work of slipping your underwear down your legs and Steve did the same with his boxers and then he hooked your leg over his hip.
That was when the curtain should’ve been closed, but still, neither of you could bother to get up. Instead, he didn’t waste a second to slip inside of you, filling you completely and both of your moans took over the quietness within the room.
You were reminded of other instances where something similar to this had happened before— him waking you with the softest kiss against your neck at a tiny hotel in Amsterdam and it leading to a moment like this, or you pressing kisses against his freckled shoulders and back, and that action also leading to you being on top of him minutes later, and you both learned just how thin the walls were at a bed and breakfast in a small town in Spain.
Sometimes the sex was quick and rushed and other times you two acted like you had all the time in the world, which you kind of did, in most cases.
This moment technically did have a set time limit because you two had to head to the airport sooner rather than later for your twelve o’clock flight back home, but everything was still slow and languid. You both were hitting your peaks fast, though, and you figured it was the pent-up neediness from what you two had been too exhausted to do last night since most of the day and night had been spent doing last-second touristy things in Paris.
“I love you,” You had said to him when you two were sitting on a park bench close to the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t the first time you said it to him or the first time he immediately said it back but it still always felt just as special.
And you were saying it in this moment too; muttering it over and over like it was a prayer. Your hands landed in his hair at some point, finding home in his messy brown locks that you were making even messier with your soft tugs and pulls.
Steve’s hand found your hip so he could push his cock deeper inside of you with every slow thrust, and that action pushed you over the edge faster than you had expected. Your eyes squeezed shut and you buried your face into his neck as you came, clenching around his cock, which beckoned his own release seconds later.
“I love you so much,” He whispered as he spilled inside of you and you could only moan in response, still unable to form coherent sentences.
Things became quiet and Steve’s arms circled around you entirely, hands pushing under your t-shirt that you were now realizing was actually his, and you returned the embrace immediately, letting out a soft hum into his neck as he started mindlessly tracing circles against your back.
A lot of the time, this was your favorite part— the after. Steve still inside of you and bodies still entangled as your breathings steadied and heart rates returned to normal.
These were the moments where you talked about everything and nothing and cooked up stupid little fantasies and dreams for the future that actually didn’t feel entirely stupid. It was in a post-sex pillow talk haze like this one where you learned about the kind of family Steve wanted later in life— a bunch of kids, a nice house, a dog or a cat or both. A family that actually felt like a family.
It was the sweetest thing you had ever heard, and it somehow entirely made sense for him. You told him that you had hated being an only child growing up so you loved the thought of actually having something like that down the road too. You even shyly admitted that it had never felt possible before; you had never been able to see that with anyone else, but with him you did.
It was more often than not that you found yourself yearning for that kind of life with him— whenever his arms circled around you from behind and he pressed a kiss against your cheek or whenever he laughed extra hard at a joke you made that wasn’t even all that funny or whenever he told you something that he had never told anyone else before.
In a way, it felt so silly and even a little stupid to think so far ahead and long for something that would be years and years down the road because you two hadn’t even been together for six months yet, you were barely pushing three.
There were a thousand things that could go wrong, and probably would go wrong, between now and then, but even that slightly cynical thought didn’t change how you felt in the moment.
You loved Steve. You were in love with him. Every silly thought or random musing you had, you always immediately wanted to tell it to him and you always did, no matter how ridiculous it was, because you knew how much he loved hearing all the random thoughts swirling through your head. You knew how much he loved you.
“We should’ve bought that Big Ben picture frame that that guy tried to sell us in London,” You said to Steve now.
He let out a quiet laugh. “It’s been over a month. Why are you thinking about that now?”
You pulled back from his neck so that you could meet his eyes. “I was just thinking about the picture that the sweet old lady took of us on the bridge last night, and how it’s really good and I think I wanna frame it.”
“You want to put a picture of us in Paris in a Big Ben frame?”
“Oh, shit, you’re right, that doesn’t really make sense. We need to get a frame from here then.”
“There will probably be one in the airport.”
The mention of the airport finally made some logical thinking sink in on your side of things.
As if reading your mind and sensing where it was going, Steve quickly shook his head. “No, no, forget I mentioned the airport.”
“I should check the time,” You said, bypassing his previous words, and you started to shift so that you could turn and grab your phone off the nightstand. But, Steve’s arms only tightened around you, not letting you out of his embrace to grab your phone, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Steve.”
He didn’t say anything in response, not even when you playfully poked his side. Instead, he simply kept holding you.
“If we miss our flight, I can’t promise that Robin won’t murder you,” You said, trying to make your voice sound as serious as possible.
“Good point,” He mumbled against your neck and finally loosened his hold. You shifted around then and reached for your phone.
“It’s only eight,” You told him and then smiled at one of the notifications you saw taking over your screen. “And our flight’s delayed. It leaves at two instead of twelve now.”
You smiled wider when you placed your phone on the nightstand again and turned back to see Steve also smiling at you.
“Perfect,” He said as he pulled you back into his arms.
You leaned into the embrace, returning it immediately and letting your eyes slip shut as your head fell against his chest. You decided against saying anything about how you two still had a ton of packing to do or mentioning that the thought of having one last Parisian croissant for breakfast sounded pretty nice to you. Instead, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being close to Steve. It was a position that you two had been in what felt like a thousand times at this point, but it never got old to you, and you had a feeling it never would.
It was finally hitting you in this moment that the summer was coming to its end, and a sort of bittersweet feeling washed over you because of that realization. You already knew that you were going to miss all of this— lazy mornings in bed with your boyfriend, random and abrupt adventures in small towns that neither of you had heard of before, spending all of this uninterrupted time with him, etc. But, you also knew that it was really only just the beginning for you two, and you were excited to spend countless nights at his apartment; in his living room that finally had curtains. And you also couldn’t wait to force him to come over to your place for game nights and movie nights and whatever else was happening in the small shared apartment.
“I’m really glad that I met you,” You abruptly told him, the thought of the future was making you feel extra sentimental in this moment. “And that I know you, and that we’re together and here right now. I can’t imagine this being any different.”
“Really?” He asked softly, and you understood what he meant by the one-word question. Months ago, your mind had been in an entirely different place, and the reason that you had even met Steve at all was because your head had been in that completely different place.
However, the shift and change were easy, and your feelings for Steve felt different from everything else; they were something that you couldn’t bury down or push away when you accepted them. They felt so fucking right and that never changed.
“Really, really,” You lifted your head from his chest to meet his eyes. “I promise. Nothing’s ever felt like this.”
Steve nodded and was still speaking softly as he agreed and repeated your words, “Nothing’s ever felt like this.” When he smiled at you, it was probably the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. “I love you.”
You couldn’t help but shyly look away from him then, your own smile tugging at your lips. You put your head back on his chest and found his hand beneath the blanket to give it a light squeeze. “I love you too.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
a/n: holy shit i cant believe this series is finally done !!!! i’m genuinely gonna miss writing this but i’m also so happy that it’s completed (veryvery bittersweet). this is the longest and most ambitious thing i’ve ever written on here and i’m super happy with how it at all turned out. thanks to everyone who enjoyed and came back to read this every week. yall are the best<3333 okay let me shut up and stop rambling now! thank you again! bye!!
taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff , @lilacccs , @thehairington86 , @welcometohellsock , @dreamerjj , @newyorkangelbaby
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington series#eddie munson x reader#bestfriend!eddie munson#stranger things imagine#stranger things fluff
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Inspired by @captain-flint's post.
“It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” Having a crew like this behind you – even when things go wrong.” Tommy reflects, watching the 118’s relief over the text in the group chat. The group chat Tommy isn’t in. Understandably. He’s only been with Evan for five months. It was nice enough for Evan to invite him to come to the hospital and wait for Denny to get out of surgery with everyone.
“Especially when things go wrong.” Evan replies, letting his gaze linger like he really wants Tommy to take it in. It works, because Tommy feels his insides become just that much squishier and his grip on his coffee cup tightens enough to crush the styrofoam if he isn’t careful. “Oh my god, that’s it.”
“What?”
“I know how to break the curse.” Great. More curse talk. A part of Tommy was hoping with the more pressing matters of Denny being in the hospital, maybe Evan could go a few hours without mentioning Billy Boils. But as he looks at the clock on the wall, he sees it’s only been forty-five minutes since his last ‘not so fun’ fact about the outlaw.
Tommy shakes his head and takes a sip from his cup as Evan starts typing up a plan in his notes app. A plan that no doubt involves Tommy. Which he’s more than okay with. No matter what they’re doing, as long as Tommy is with his boyfriend, he’s satisfied. He’d be a little more satisfied if he could kiss Evan without risking getting an infection – but at least it hasn’t got in the way of other activities, like the blowjob he gave him this morning.
***
Thirty or so minutes later, Karen gathers everyone so they can sign Denny’s cast. Tommy is the only one who doesn’t stand up. Evan grabs his hand and pulls him. “C’mon babe, you too.” He shoots his boyfriend a look that reads ‘are you sure?’ and Evan doubles down, pulling him up with both hands now.
Tommy agrees, but when they get to the room, he stays back in the doorway. He’s not part of the 118 extended family. There wasn’t one when he was at the station, and he hasn’t been back in their lives long enough to warrant an invitation to join just yet. Maybe when he and Evan get more serious. Maybe when he finally asks him to move in will he feel part of the posse he’s always craved.
Everyone lines up and starts signing Denny’s cast – drawing or writing inside jokes and messages Tommy knows nothing about. He’s never even met Denny formally. Maybe back in the day, Karen brought him to the station when she occasionally picked Hen up. But he would have been a child then. Fuck, he’s old – he’s reminded looking at the kid who’s taller than his moms now.
Denny’s cast, withstanding the signatures, looks the same as the one Tommy had the summer he moved to LA. He broke it falling down the stairs during his worse and final fight with his father. He discharged himself from the hospital, hopped on a bus to California, and crashed on his cousin’s couch until he was healed. Once he was cleared, he was immediately deployed, needing to get as far away from his father as possible. Not like the bastard was looking for him.
No one signed his cast that summer. Not even his cousin. Which he’s thankful for. The only thing more pathetic than a blank cast is a cast with one measly, pity signature on it.
Tommy understood loneliness. It had been suffused into his bones for as long as he could remember. He learned feeling alone the majority of the time was just part of life. He had friends, made himself useful so he could occasionally be invited over to help out with a task and maybe get offered a beer or to hang around after. It was a temporary band-aid on the perpetually alone feeling he’s accustomed to.
It worked fine for him. For forty (plus) years, Tommy had to find a way to be content with being the loneliness he was stuck with. He nursed his injuries by himself, learned to cook meals for one, found enjoyment in being the only one in the theater at an afternoon movie.
Then Evan Buckley came into his life. His wonderful, bright eyed, golden retriever of a boyfriend who’s happiest when he’s surrounded by loved ones. Over the past five months, Evan has shown Tommy how incredible it is to have someone constantly by your side. To have a ‘Morning babe!!’ text with a dozen emojis waiting for him when he woke up and another wishing him a good night before bed. Evan will stop at nothing to remind Tommy he’s welcome in his life – all of it.
Eddie too. It took two hang outs before he was inviting Tommy over to show Christopher flight sim. He’s never had a boyfriend like Evan or a best friend like Eddie. He feels almost spoiled about it. His heart doesn’t know what to do with all this affection. For so long, being on his own was he all he’s known. And now he can’t remember the last time his calendar wasn’t stacked with outings and hang outs. He hasn’t had a lonely night in, feeling miserable and self-loathing since the night he saved Bobby and Athena. Since the 118 returned to his life.
Tommy’s brought back from his thoughts when Eddie shoves him. Evan is staring at him – wait – everyone is staring at him. Then he sees Denny holding out the sharpie towards him. “Aren’t you gonna sign too …” He looks over to Hen and she mouths his name. “… Tommy, right. I knew that.” Everyone laughs, Tommy included.
Maybe he does belong.
#bucktommy#Tommy and the 118#911#911 coda#911 8x05#tommy kinard#platonic eddietommy#bucktommy Drabble#bucktommy coda#my writing#3 codas in a month#what have i become
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twin skeletons | read on ao3
soulmate au, 2023 season | ~3k
it's uhhh kind of getting better but not really lads
——
Oberlungwitz, Germany
The last thing Marc wants is to answer the phone. He’s sore, pissed off, and fucking humiliated.
But he answers, because Valentino had called after Mandalika. And he’d called about the fourth surgery, sounding almost guilty—as if, for the first time in years, Marc had said something and he’d listened.
You didn’t call after Jerez.
He’s calling now. In fact, he won’t stop fucking calling.
“That bike is going to kill you.”
Marc sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t ask why do you care? because that answer is going to be more than he’s equipped to handle today. “It—it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Marc.”
Despite it all, he’s never getting tired of this, of the sound of his name in Valentino’s mouth. It’s something, at least.
“Whatever. It’s bad. Not a lot I can do about it.”
They haven’t been careful, haven’t crept around each other to figure out this new version of themselves. Valentino calls, tells Marc he’s an idiot, almost cracks the lid off the pressure cooker of the last eight years, and Marc will hang up before it gets too dangerous.
And next time Valentino calls, he will answer.
This is an old argument, a well-worn path, one that’s hung between them since 2013.
“Shouldn’t even be telling you this,” Marc mutters. “You run fucking Ducatis.”
“Everyone can see the bike is bad,” Valentino says, pointed.
“Fucking—obviously.” Because this is Marc’s circuit. He doesn’t like expecting things, but he should be head and shoulders above the rest. He should not be riding a bucking animal down the waterfall, feeling it writhe underneath him like it wants to leave him a smear on the asphalt.
He should not be crashing five times at the Sachsenring.
He didn’t race in Indonesia, in the end, and he’d told himself it was Álex that persuaded him. Maybe that was easier than remembering how his name sounded when Valentino called that first time.
“I think I will not race,” he forces out, mirror-inverse of that conversation. “I might get hurt.”
Nothing. Just the silence to let him breathe. Marc’s grateful for it.
“I’ll be in Misano,” Valentino says softly.
“Of course you will.”
“Marc.”
“This is not—” He doesn’t know what he wants to say. This is not me forgiving you, maybe. Except he probably already has.
His arm aches, something deeper than his twice-broken bone, pulsing with his heartbeat. Valentino used to run his fingers over it, brushing the piece of his soul that lives under Marc’s skin over and over again. They used to—
Valentino used to curl his lip, used to act as if he thought Marc belonged to him. He doesn’t make the same demands he did back then, not since Mandalika, but they hover in the silence nonetheless. The worst thing is that Marc understands him now, understands why it scared him to have his life so intertwined with someone else’s.
But they’re still not okay.
Not for the first time, Marc wonders where they might be if he’d only lost the front in Indonesia, or if he’d only been flung over the handlebars, if his head hadn’t cracked against the asphalt. Not here, that’s for fucking sure.
He doesn’t say that, because Valentino isn’t a hair trigger anymore but he’ll make a guilty little sound that twists Marc’s stomach.
“I’ll see you in Italy,” he says instead, and the relief is visceral through the phone.
——
Misano Adriatico, Italy
As promised, Valentino is in Misano.
Of course he would be.
It doesn’t take him long to find Marc; he knows the place well, knows how to slip through the motorhome lot without being accosted. He knows just where to wait to catch Marc after his track walk, to beckon him with a tilt of his head.
Marc follows. Of course he does.
It’s—
They’ve seen each other, looked each other in the face (refused a handshake), since they fell apart, since Valentino retired. Since Mandalika. They haven’t truly looked at each other for a very long time.
He’s different, Marc realises. Older, yes, more stubble, curls winding out from beneath his cap, but more than that, he’s tired, mouth tight, eyes shadowed.
“It was a, ah, scary moment in Germany,” Valentino offers to the silence between them.
“Which one?” Marc mutters, then, “Scary for you or for me?” Another jab. Maybe he just wants to see if the soft underbelly is still there.
“Ah…” Valentino looks up, away, shrugs with his left shoulder. “Why are you—?” He stops.
“Why what?” Valentino should not get to ask anything, really, but Marc had answered the phone. He keeps answering. Keeps cracking the door a little wider.
He should stop. Probably. Maybe.
Valentino finally meets his gaze, eyes blank—hiding—and tilts his chin at Marc’s arm, at the healed scars, the ruined skin, the mark hidden under his T-shirt sleeve. “Does it still hurt?”
“It’s been worse,” Marc says slowly. It had been worse after the surgeries. It had been worse after Sepang.
Valentino half-reaches a hand out, eyes boring into Marc’s shoulder.
Marc swallows. “No.”
“Marc,” Valentino breathes, and before Marc can move away, there’s a hand on his right arm, a thumb brushing his mark.
It’s—
He closes his eyes, because then at least Valentino can’t see—but his body must give him away, must shudder as electricity snaps outwards from the contact. He doesn’t make a sound, thank God.
And then—he rips his arm free, slaps his hand over his mark, because Valentino does not get to do this. He was the one who didn’t want this, didn’t want them. He was the one who held Marc up in front of the world, in front of snapping jaws and hungry eyes, and said here, this one.
He was the one who—
“Fuck you,” Marc manages, and his soulmark throbs with the echo of a kick. Inch given, mile taken. He won’t make that mistake again. (He’s made it so many times before.) “Don’t do that.”
Valentino’s eyes are huge now, like he can’t understand—there’s the chink in the armour, Marc thinks with grim satisfaction. Except why is Valentino reaching out to him?
They stay as they are for an excruciating moment—Marc covering his soulmark, Valentino’s arm still outstretched—before someone rides past on a scooter, too close to their hiding place, and the scene shatters.
Valentino hasn’t touched his mark for nearly eight years. It had felt so good that Marc wants to throw up.
He flees before he can think too hard about it.
——
It must have been—
Here, Valentino was saying. Remember you belong to me. Remember I can do this.
Right?
I don’t want you, but we’re soulmates anyway. I hurt you. You can never really get away from me.
“Marc.” Álex’s voice makes him jump. “You’ve got the call in ten minutes, remember? Nadia and the team.”
“Yeah.” He stares at the kitchenette worktop, at Álex leaning over, at the part of himself on his brother’s wrist.
“Are you okay?”
“Is this the right thing to do?” Marc whispers.
“It’s just a meeting.” But Álex knows him, knows what he means. “You can’t stay on that bike. It’s going to kill you.”
The echo of Valentino’s words—Marc snaps his gaze up to his brother’s face. “I thought Honda—I thought I’d be there forever.”
“Forever is a long time.”
It is. Marc didn’t understand that when he was twenty-one.
“It’s just a phone call,” Álex continues. “No decision yet. You have some time to work it out, no? Remember your plan. You deserve to be on a fast bike.” Then he tilts his head. “What’s wrong?”
“The team—”
“Something else.” Of course Álex knows him better than anyone else.
(That’s what it should be like.)
“Valentino’s here.”
Álex makes a face. “It’s Misano.”
“He’s—he still calls me.”
Another face. “So?”
Marc rubs his right arm, an unconscious movement.
“You know what—I won’t tell you what to do.” Álex twists his lips together. “But you know what I think.”
“Yeah.”
——
He manages to avoid Valentino until Saturday morning; nowhere near long enough to gather his thoughts, but also—
It feels too long, somehow. He’s looking between motorhomes as he passes them, half-expecting to see the lanky figure waiting for him. He’s on his guard, that’s all it is. Can’t be caught unawares again.
It’s a tightrope, a careful tread, and they could fall, they could plummet. Valentino could kick his feet out from under him. Again.
Marc might believe it, if he didn’t know that Valentino has no need to: acts of self-sabotage well and truly over, he would never choose to reach for Marc again, would never pick up the phone, would never run his fingers over the imprint of himself unless he wanted to.
Maybe Marc hit his head so hard in Indonesia it knocked something loose in Valentino’s too.
He’s not surprised when Valentino appears, waiting. And Marc moves towards him, thread-pull, caught on the line of his unreadable stare.
“I’m sorry,” Valentino says when he’s close enough.
“You’re sorry.”
“Yes.”
Marc controls his expression after a long moment, snaps his mouth shut. “Um. Thank—thank you.”
“It was, ah, not right. To—” He makes a loose gesture. Can’t even say what he’s done, the line he’s crossed.
And yet Marc would have given anything, once, to hear Valentino apologise to him. “It’s—fine. Don’t worry about it.”
There’s a flicker, not disappointment but something close, as if he were expecting more of a struggle. Marc is past fighting.
His arm hurts and the bike is shit and he thinks—he thinks he’s going to Gresini. Giving up the fight.
Ho turns and walks away.
——
Valencia, Spain
He throws a bottle of water at the door once it’s closed behind Bezzecchi; it makes an unsatisfying thump, then a second one when it drops to the floor.
Fucking—kid. Holding Valentino’s grudges for him, so simplistic in his belief. Determined to make Marc’s shit day even worse.
Then he wipes his eyes, crusted with an afternoon’s worth of tears, and collects the bottle, quietly embarrassed at himself.
Santi’s hands on his shoulders had been a weight like never before, and he’d sobbed like a child—that’s his team, his family. And he fucking left them. He couldn’t stay, but—
But.
He scrubs underneath his nose, tries to sit in it just enough that he’ll be through it by tomorrow. Tomorrow means Gresini. Ducati. Start again.
There’s another knock on the door—not Álex, he wouldn’t bother—and if it’s Bezzecchi again, Marc is going to do something really stupid.
It’s not. It’s—
Valentino has his lips twisted together, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He’s staring somewhere to the left of Marc. “Hello.”
“Fuck, Vale, not now.” A slip. Marc curses himself, but the vitriol quiets when Valentino looks at him, finally looks at him again.
“I just wanted—” A long shrug. “It must be difficult. I—”
There’s no reason for him to be here—not a hard crash, not like in Germany or Indonesia, no reason for him to extend a hand again. It must be the same as Misano, as saying here I am, remember how we’re connected.
And—fine.
If Valentino wants to play that game, if he wants to reach out and say look, I’m here, I’ll always be here, then—Marc lives under his skin as well. He’ll always be there.
He steps to the side, stares at Valentino until he slips through the door, and makes sure to drag his gaze up Valentino’s arm, his shoulder, lingering on the piece of skin where both their soulmarks sit.
Valentino notices, says, “Marc,” like he’s facing down a feral animal, and follows it up with, “You’re upset,” as if Marc is the one being unreasonable, as if Marc is the one who’s been unreasonable for the last eighteen fucking months.
“No shit,” Marc hisses. The space between them may as well be an abyss. There’s a burning coal lodged in his sternum.
Valentino solves half the problem for him, drifting around the end of the sofa and coming to a halt half a step away. Uncharacteristic of him, to be so off-kilter, so unsure of himself.
Marc plunges in. His hand finds Valentino’s mark.
It’s barely a second, a gulp of breath, a thread wound between them, and then Valentino pushes him back so hard he almost stumbles. Marc opens his eyes, the instinct of an apology forming on his tongue—
Valentino kisses him.
It’s desperate-frantic-starving, teeth and gasps, hands in his hair, a grunt when his shoulder blades hit the motorhome wall. Finding his own hands useless at his sides, he blindly grabs at Valentino’s sleeve until he can touch it again. Familiar. As if it’s been minutes rather than years.
Valentino makes a noise like a groan, like he’s aching, and traces around the branch-twist of scars until he finds the mark. If Marc hadn’t been pressed against the wall, his legs would have given out when stars explode at the back of his skull.
They used to be so gentle, until they weren’t, until Marc rolled into the gravel or raced too hard or did something that made Valentino think of a future or a hundred other unconscious transgressions. They used to be so careful, except when they weren’t.
Marc grins, sharp against the corner of Valentino’s mouth, and curls his fingers into claws.
This is what you wanted. He digs in, just a little. Remember? You wanted to tear me out.
Another gasp, shuddering, and yeah, he can do it too. He’s still there.
He expects retaliation; it’s not as if he hasn’t had worse, after all. Valentino used to get there first, used to fight with nails and teeth, and Marc would capitulate. He expects the same now: a scratch, a bite, have nothing on the lingering shadow of his boot.
When Valentino says, “Marc,” he sounds like he did on the phone in the hospital in Lombok: the same wretched noise that meant stop, please, don’t hurt yourself; that made Marc listen when Álex told him not to ride; that meant you terrify me; that meant—
He swallows, relaxes his hand. Fucked it, maybe.
Except Valentino noses around Marc’s jaw and whispers, “Bed?” Like he’s asking. Like it’s ten years ago.
Like he cares what Marc wants.
For once, they want the same thing, so Marc twists his left arm and, impressing even himself, manages to open the bedroom door. There’s a huff into the crook of his neck, and he finds himself pushed backwards once again, going willingly this time because—
He doesn’t know why, and when Valentino drags his sleeve up, leans down, presses lips to his mark, it doesn’t matter.
It could be nine, ten years ago. It could be Marc, twenty-one years old, biting back a desperate sob at the shivering heat, lightning arcing through sinew, and it’s not ten years ago and he’s not twenty-one but he wants, he wants, he wants.
“Marc.” His name. Despite it all, he’s never getting tired of the sound of his name in Valentino’s mouth. “Marc—”
He tips his head back, allows himself to relax into it; his fingers wander through Valentino’s warm hair, gentle. An apology of sorts.
Missed you, his brain hums, and when Valentino rubs his mark, he can almost pretend they’re thinking the same thing.
Valentino’s hands move to his waist, to his jeans, careful now—he used to tug at Marc’s trousers, used to fumble the button in his eagerness, and this is foreign, delicate, so gentle.
“Okay?” Asking again.
“Fuck’s sake—yes—”
Another laugh. Some kind of record, surely. It’s insane. They must be going insane together.
He wishes he cared more.
He kicks off his trousers and lets Valentino push him onto the bed, lets him trail kisses across his neck, like they’re something after all. He pulls back, searching, eyes darting side-to-side, wanting—
Marc almost slams the brakes, almost sends himself crashing to the ground, but he wants and Valentino wants and like it or not, the universe chained them together for a reason.
And they were good, before it burned to ash. Before Valentino dropped the struck match he’d been carrying since Laguna Seca.
When Valentino rests his forehead against Marc’s shoulder and kisses his soulmark, Marc can almost believe it’s I’m sorry, I’m here. When he traces the outline of his soul on Valentino’s skin, he hopes it means I’m here, I’ll always be here, I didn’t leave you.
——
When Marc wakes up—
He’s warm, sheets kicked around his ankles, solid heat against his back, and Valentino had been here, had let Marc scratch and snarl, had kissed his soulmark like it meant something.
When Marc wakes up, there’s a hand on his arm, over his scars, over his mark, and it’s golden in his veins. For the first time in years, the bone-deep ache isn’t the only sensation in his right arm.
He doesn’t open his eyes.
It’s not long before Valentino shifts, inhales sharply the way he always did—still does, apparently—when he’s falling out of sleep. He groans deep in his chest, and freezes.
For a long moment, there’s nothing: no sound, no movement. Nothing, until Valentino extricates himself, moving as gently as if Marc is made of porcelain, and the warmth of his touch is gone from his mark.
Marc can’t help the sound he makes, pitiful, when Valentino disappears and the familiar bruised ache is back. He’s carried it in his soulmark for so long he’s forgotten how it feels, how it should feel—
Valentino sighs. His footsteps, halfway around the room, halfway through collecting shoes and his shirt, pause.
Marc does his best to smooth out his expression, to turn his face into the pillow like he’s still sleeping. If he opens his eyes, this will crack, splinter, collapse at his feet.
Another exhale, and impossibly, the steps move closer again. Valentino brushes his hand over Marc’s forehead—pinched, despite himself, like it so often is—then rubs a thumb over his soulmark.
And fuck it—Marc can’t help that he sighs, that he relaxes, that it feels so good to have his soulmate touch him again.
When Valentino says, “Marc,” on a breath, he sounds like he did at the start of them, in the hotel room in Monterey: reverent, careful, infinitely pained. The same way he used to say I love you.
The hand disappears. The door opens, closes.
Marc opens his eyes.
#rosquez#motogp rpf#ptsftp#marc marquez#valentino rossi#motogp fic#please like this it's literally 3000 words i humbly offer it to you#also sorry#part 4 of 5 hehe#cara.fic
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Sparks In A Socket
[Airplane turns into a lightning demon — because system wanted some fun]
[just a WIP lol I can never do full oneshots because I love skipping all over the place haha don’t we love cliffhangers?]
He tried to breathe, he really did. But fuck, how could one NOT panic when there’s a storm surrounding the mountain AND THRE ARE BURSTS OF LIGHTNING COMING FROM HIS—HIS HANDS WERE TURNING LIGHT BLUE????
WHAT THE FUCK.
He glared at the system through his blurring vision, dammit, he didn’t even do anything weird this time!!! He was just doing paperwork!?!
[ (ง•̀.•́)ง Fight on, User 01!]
“Why—“ He stuttered on his breath, fighting the urge to curl up into himself, knowing that doing that would make the scent of burnt ash worse, “Why do I—Why lightning powers?”
[It’s a special event! User 02 has also turned into a demon for a brief period of time.]
Helpful! Really helpful!
“Can you please change my powers, System!?” Shang Qinghua pleaded desperately, see? You can see he’s really desperate because he’s using his “please’s” (and kneeling on the ground sobbing)
[System can do that for 1000000 B points!]
THAT’S ABSURD, AND A SCAM!?!? HOW HARD CAN CHANGING A POWER BE???
[(┳◇┳) it takes a lot of power!]
Screw you System!!!?!?!?
Shakily, he wrote a letter to his head disciple, telling her that he’ll be leaving for a while and another for Shen Qingqiu. He taps on the pendant that Mobei—Jun gave him so that he could travel around between the palace and the sect with ease and tried to take comfort in the chill and lack of thunder blaring in his ears.
The jitters scuttle all over the palm of his hands, and he flinches at the sight of sparks. He could see the snow on his fingers melting, maybe this was a bad idea?
No— he just needs to get inside of his palace, to his room, where everything’s blocked off and where he’ll be safe and where everyone around him is safe—God he can now understand why Elsa locked herself away when she accidentally hurt her sister— He darts inside, not giving a second glance to the guards’ bewildered look at his back.
—
He huddled as close to the fire as he could, trying not to stare at the frost on his window. The frost made the window translucent, some parts of the window had water droplets that had yet to be frozen. Some slipped down the window. He really tried not to stare at those.
His body was restless, he couldn’t stop twitching, he tried rubbing his hands together, but it only fueled the sparks in his hands, static static static— not dangerous, he reminded himself.
He would be fine.
He’s probably immune to the sparks, the lightning, he’s fine.
His gaze fall back to the drips of water.
It reminds him of the water bottle next to his computer. It reminds him of the cup noodles sitting right in front of him, tumbling tumbling tumbling— it’s NOT TUMBLING.
Shang Qinghua leans against the wall and shuts his eyes.
Just breathing.
inhale exhale. inhale exhale. inhale exhale.
“Qinghua?”
Many things happened after that statement.
1. He jumped away from the voice, almost mashing his back against the wall, unintentionally slapping the big cold hand that was reaching for him.
2. He didn’t scream, no, Shang Qinghua let out an eardrum—shattering shriek and with his eyes popping open with shock, along with the sound of thunder rumbled through the room.
3. Various flashes of light burst from his hands, a few crackling bursts crashed into the window glass, shattering it completely causing the icy winds to come into the room. Some sparks of lightning ricocheted off his wall breaking the lamp above his head, some singed the wooden parts of his bed and his desk.
After the lightning died down, he stared right into the dumbfounded ice demon’s eyes, mind completely blank, his body completely shutting down on him in his panic.
He had a full view of the destruction, he could feel the shards of glass from the lamp above him, the glow from his handsl, the rumbling of thunder in his ears doesn’t dissipate, nor does the smell of fire or the tingling feeling in his bones. He’s not dying, Shang Qinghua reminds himself, he’s not.
He’s not in pain, he’s completely dry and he just hit his king and the air in his lungs is leaving him.
“S—Sorry—“ he stuttered out, trying to hit his chest into breathing again, it only kind of helps.
He could swear that Mobei-Jun had a concerned look on his face.
—
#svsss#shang qinghua#svsss au#shen qingqiu#my post#shen yuan#svsss fanfiction#hurt/comfort#Lightning Demon Shang Qinghua AU
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one thing i think about in the fco au is if maybe vale would have warned marc not to race immediately after the first surgery which marc obviously does not take well and it leads to this huge fight where he’s accusing vale of not wanting him to race bc he doesn’t want marc to succeed anymore and break his records (or maybe he doesn’t go that far ? not sure where their relationship is at at that stage.. but something similar!) and vale calls him a danger to himself and others etc and marc rides anyway and well his arm swells etc etc and he’s so regretful so ashamed and is in so much damn pain + things are awkward with vale and it’s just a nightmare
oh oh and (not very related) but did they ever like set a time for when they would stage a breakup? or did they just deicde to take it one day at a time and overtime they were both too scared to mention it and then one day like some reporter asks marc if he’d ever considered retirement and just living out his days at the ranch and that gets marc thinking about like what he and vale would do once he actually retired bc then he wouldn’t have to be the only gay rider on the grid, he wouldn’t even be on the grid, and maybe there wouldn’t be need for all this theatre anymore and in the times he’s not thinking about the championship he’s only ever thinking about this, and is anxious to the point of straight up asking vale like. how will we break up. and the electrical circuits in vale’s brain start smoking and explodeee
jerez fight would go CRAZY like genuinely such a nadir in their relationship where marc after that REALLY regrets not listening to vale. like hes constantly living with it thinking like. if i had just listened to him i wouldnt be in pain everyday and having to rehab my arm and wasting years of the most competitive i will be in my short career. and VALE... lowkey also thinks that but feels more guilty about it. because hes hurt marc a LOT in this universe and hes not even the one in pain so what right does he have to even be resentful (<-incredibly traumatized man by way of motorcycle racing injury/fatality)... and i think that to overcome it they decide to set up an agreement between them where vale has more input in deciding if marc is healthy enough to ride. like he has to call and check in after a crash kinda deal. again like working as a unit. and of course he unionizes with alex in situations like uh. malaysia 2022 probable concussion highside. and then its a bit better
and the original plan for FCO au is a pretty contained story-- one year of fake dating (where they start fucking like MONSTER TRUCKS again about halfwayish through) and then hondayamaha pr gives them the okay to breakup at the end of the year and vale has like eight insane internal meltdowns about it while marc closes himself off like gangbusters cuz he thinks theyre going back to square one. and vale realizes he misses him and that’s enough leverage to get him out of the self destructive pits of horrendous guilt and GOOOOO to his twink
#i also think they ask marc about retirement and just like irl hes like well motorcross and vacation :) and vale is like YEAHHHHHHHHH#and then you smash cut to the next year and theyre both still in the paddock cuz theyre workaholic losers#motogp#callie speaks#asks#rosquez#forced coming out au
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Can’t stop thinking about caitvi kisses after just a little too much time apart. Maybe it’s for business, Cait’s job. Maybe it’s some sort of personal endeavor. It doesn’t matter, really. Because Vi is tugging off the red jacket and throwing it haphazardly over the couch, and before she can inhale to call out for Caitlyn, she’s there. She pushing Vi up against the wall, breathing in the smell of her, feeling her ridged edges and sculpted muscle against her contrasting curves. “Jesus, Cait” Vi gasps out, but the only response she’s met with is a half whine/groan from Cait. And finally, when the taller girl does pull away, it’s to study her face and make sure everything is still in the right place, that it’s still her girl. There’s a beat that gets stuck, where both girls are too frightened to break the magic of the moment they’re stuck in. Like if one of them moves, the other will fade away and they’ll be left with the horrible ache of a dream. But the need for contact finally overcomes her fears. Cait crashes her lips into Vi and oh, does it feel good. It’s not like their usual kisses, no. It’s tongues and teeth, lips and gasps of air in between their fight for dominance. Hands move and grab whenever they can, moving to any exposed skin. Cait’s to the silver of stomach from Vi’s tank top moving up. Vi’s to the inch of skin between Cait’s tights and her dress’s hem. They try to breathe each other in, a little bit of spit stringing from their mouths when they do breathe from their previous struggle. Fuck, she missed her. And when they both tire of the door frame, and she carries her back to their bedroom, the same urgency will be carried out in everything they do. On both girls necks, their thighs, their stomachs. A physical reminder of how painful the distance was, of how much they need each other. Reminders of the effect they have on each other, even in the absence of the girls physical presence.
#arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitvi#pit fighter vi#wlw#vi smut#caitlyn smut#vi and caitlyn#vi x caitlyn#league of legends#vi arcane#men dni
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‧₊˚🖇️✩ tiktok trends they'd do with you
pairing : p1harmony x seventh! member -> i think its giving way more romantic than platonic but anywho!
rating : fluffy
yoon keeho : disco - surf curse
— wants to do a really cute one with you.
— it’s cute the way he asks you to do it, too. you’re chilling in the studio, working on some things for piwon and he knocks gently on the door and only entering when he hears you “come in” whoever was behind the door.
— he chills with you for a couple of minutes before “stumbling” (he had it saved to his favorites and was just trying to not make it obvious to you that he wanted to do it) across one of the tiktoks and starts cooing over it, without showing you, of course. because then when you just hear him “aww-ing” over a random thing on his phone, it makes you intrigued to watch it.
— then he shows it to you and waits for you to say something about how cute it is, and his smile only widens when you do agree and say that the couple in the vid was cute.
“so let’s do it!” he exclaims excitedly, smacking your arm to get you up.
“right now? kyo, i don’t look good,” you complain, rolling your head onto the headrest, but he’s just shaking his head.
”what are you talking about? you look so, boyfriend material, c’mon, get up!” he eggs you on, pulling on the tip of your hoodie, “you’re even wearing a hoodie and sweats, you look good.”
you roll your eye, not believing him, “no, i want to look good,”
“but i want to do it now,” the whine in his voice is hard to say no to, making you groan and get up out of your comfortable chair. he cheers quietly, hugging you by the waist and then setting up the phone to rest against your monitor, being the perfect distance away from you two to get a good angle and view.
“wait how does it even go,” you murmur, going to grab his phone and rewatch the video. but he stops you and starts simply explaining it, in grand detail. “hold on, is that your first time seeing the video or no?”
“sh, sh, just copy what i do,” he brushees off your assumption with a cheeky grin before demonstrating how to do it properly.
the tiktok took maybe a total of ten minutes to film, only because you two kept breaking out into laughter in the midst of filming it. at the end of the tiktok, before the seconds were up, he grabbed you into a tight hug and almost made you crash into your desk with the strong force. this made you both die of laughter for a couple minutes, watching back the footage and realizing you can clearly see the panic in your eyes as you guys almost fall down.
”that is a really cute trend,” you comment, now walking back to the dorms as he scrolls through the comments of the video that you two had just posted. “what are they saying?”
“they’re saying how handsome you look,” he says, in a matter-of-fact voice, bumping his shoulder with yours. “and also how we are the best duo in p1harmony,”
“well, don’t let intak hear that, or else we won’t hear the end of it,” you warn, opening the door tot he lobby of the dorm building, “he’s probably even made that we did the trend without telling the others about it,”
“probably,” keeho agrees, throwing his arm around your shoulder, “but there’s nothing he can do about it, haha,”
and truth be told, intak was sitting in the living room looking like a kicked puppy with the video playing on repeat from his phone in front of him.
“when i say this is my favorite duo in piwon I MEAN IT!!!”
“the way kyo just straight up tackled him….no ones taking him from u bro chill”
“theyre both giving boyfriends ( i need them BOAF immediately )”
choi taeyang - “wait!! they don’t love you like i love you! wait!!! they don’t love you like i love you!”
— i’m telling you this guy is all for the tiktok trends that are fun and whimsy.
— i imagine you two would be late as fuck on the trend since he doesn’t use tiktok much, but when he did see it when he was scrolling once, he wanted to try it out because he thought it was funny.
— shows it to you and is surprised to find out that it’s an old trend, but that doesn’t deter him since he still wants to do it with you duhh
— unlike keeho, very straight up with telling you that he wants to do it. he thinks its funny and entertaining anyway, plus you two are probably gonna laugh your asses off filming it.
“wait, how do you even move your hips that fast?” he asked, inspecting the video as if he had to study it for an exam.
“there’s a setting, it’s 3 times the speed, so it sounds slow when you film, but it’ll speed up the video…they can’t actually move that fast, taeyang,” he slow blinks at the explanation, pursing his lips and noddnig his head as if he were impressed.
“technology…”
“what?” you burst out laughing, taking the phone from his hand and then setting it up for you two. the timer on, the speed setting being properly set, you made sure that everything would have gone fine.
and it would have! if it weren’t for you two breaking out into laughter after each “wait!!” it was just so funny, the way the sound was slowed down and how you had to time your movement with the sound. it had you guys retaking it like five times before you were satisfied with the product. theo’s face was bright red after the entire ordeal.
your guys hair was messy because you two were doing the dance so aggressively and plus the fact you had to do it five times over. when you finally watched the finished product, he was slapping your arm at how funny the two of you looked. it was fun and theo definitely didn’t regret asking you to do the dance with him because it made you two laugh so hard.
“theo really put his all into this shit LMAFOAO”
“you can see how tired they are…how many takes this did this take [name] and theo be honest”
“not theo almost tipping [name] over with how aggressive his dancing was”
choi jiung - tuberão te amo
— okay wait he would eat this shit up. he thinks the dance is so fun and cool + the fact it looks like you guys are “versing” each other make shim even more eager to try it out with you.
— probably saw seba and fernanda do it and was like wait they’re really funny, but also really good….me and [name] are both really funny and really good, we should do it together :DDD hence him walking into your dorm room late at night with the proposition.
— obviously, you were down because hello it’s funny and the excited look on jiung’s face was just too cute to say no to.
it only takes you two a couple of watches to get the dance down (goated). the first time you guys did the dance, jiung accidentally slapped your face with his palm since he was so enthusiastic and excited about the dance. plus the timing was a little off, thus resulting in you guys taking a break for a couple minutes to make sure your face was okay.
“i am so sorry,” he apologized in between breathy laughs, making you slap his chest.
“you don’t even sound sorry, jiung, shut up,” he laughed once again, that high pitched one that makes him fall to his knees. he held onto you to prevent himself from falling over. “let’s just do it again, oh my god,” you say, letting your face go and hoping that you wouldn’t be red or swell up later.
“i’m sorry, i’ll buy your favorite snacks after this,” he muses, a playful grin still on his face. he grabs the phone, saving the draft that showed him slapping your face, giggling as he did so. while you just smacked him again, telling him to get the next take ready already.
it didn’t take many more tries after that, occasional slip ups, but they were corrected in the next take anyway. by the time you two were finished, you both were passionately singing the song and rewatching your tiktok over and over.
“that dance was actually really fun,” you breathe out, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, jiung joining you. he sat close, but not on top of you (a habit almost all the other members had). you could feel his body mimicking the dance moves every now and then, making you smile at his behavior. after a couple more rewatches, he showed it to you with a hopeful smile.
“i can post it?”
“of course, ji, it looks really good, plus funny,” you smile, making him nod in agreement and then hit the “share” button the tiktok. he leaned his head against your shoulder, in exhaustion as well as just wanting to share some skinship. in a couple of mere seconds, comments from p1ece were rolling in, which you were both reading and laughing at.
“chocochip dads ATE THIS UPPPP!!!” “don’t him em too hard with that reverse, jiung!!”
“this is acc so hilarious, they’re so into it omg”
hwang intak - idk the name of it so imma just describe it, it’s where usually the girl stands still and her bf walks into frame and just casually picks her up (literally sweeps her off of her feet) and continues walking on until they’re out of frame, carrying her.
— he thinks the trend is so cute and romantic and wants to do it with you so badly.
— even goes as far as making it in the form of a small compilation!! he plans it out, so that each time it’s a new cut, you guys are in a new place. films it during one of your guys’ world tours and thinks of it as also a cute gift to p1ece.
— p1ece get to see you guys in their own cities, as well as your comfortability with each other, and he gets to literally sweeps you off of your feet each time he films…obviously, he’s going to see it as a win-win.
“what should the audio be?” intak thinks out loud, scrolling through the saved audios that were on the account, furrowing his brow, “nothing is cute enough,” he whines, walking over to you and waiting for you assistance.
“we can just leave the audio as it is, or add it in later,” you suggest, leaning into his side and looking at the ones he was scrolling past, “kyo always saves so many to use later and never ends up using them,”
he only sighs in response, finally settling on there being no audio (for now). he sets the time limit to 10 minutes, for some reason, and goes to prop up the phone far away. you were currently in chicago for tour, the view behind you being the easily recognizable architecture of the bridges as well as buildings. you two were near the water, rather than being on the bridges itself, so the view was really pretty.
“so you’re the one coming into frame?” you clarify, standing back and looking at the camera.
“yeah,” he smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, “you ready?”
“if you are,” you say in return.
he sets the timer to 10 seconds, to give you guys enough space to get ready, then steps back. you watch the numbers tick, smiling at the way intak was excitedly waiting. when it began filming, you played the simple role of just standing there and waiting. then when intak finally came into frame, he very easily picked you up with his one arm and continued on walking as if you weighed nothing.
you yelped at the strong arm around you, making him look at you with the most fond smile. then he settled you down, aggressively kissing the top of your head, before walking off to check on the footage.
the same process repeats over for each city you guys stop over, until the video is over a minute long. he doesn’t waste a second before posting it, eager to see what p1ece had to say. he’s giggling in your bed for the rest of the night, even kicking his feet up and down, as he lays beside you and reading the comments.
“it’s giving boyfriends, if i can’t have [name] i guesssss intak can”
“they look so comfortable omg their fits are so cute”
“i love the way it was a different city each time, they’re so cutteeee”
haku shota - the bow trend, wants you to put the bow on him and vice versa
— shota is a fellow bow enthusiast, so when he saw the trend, he really wanted to do it with you.
— thinks its so cute, wants to smother you in bows and of course you let him.
— lets you choose where to put your bows on him, giggling the entire time because of how cute he thinks it is.
“here?” he asks, wide boba eyes looking at you for approval. you nod your head, watching as his fingers carefully took a long strip of the black material and cut it to be the perfect length. he decided to tie the bow over your head, going up from your chin to the top of your head. and he giggled at the sight of you sitting there, as if you were a gift wrapped.
he took the roll of material again and cut some more strips off, deciding each part to tie it around carefully. he settled on three areas, around your neck as if it were a choker, over your head, letting the bow rest on top, and then finally, tying it horizontally around your head, maknig the bow rest right on your nose bridge.
“really? sho, i can’t even see,”
“you don’t need to see,” he reasons, going to grab the phone and turning the lens into 0.5, “so cute, i love it,” he takes a couple of photos for himself, probably to make his homescreen, before he opens the tiktok app.
he already had the sound recently saved so he didn’t waste time in filming you for a couple of seconds. he didn’t even bother checking if it looked good as he was too excited to also be wrapped in bows by you. he handed you an identical roll of material, but this time it’s color being pink.
so you, still keeping the bows he tied on you in tact, cut your own strips off it and laughed at how fun it was to tie decorate soul. you chose both of his wrists, making small bow-like bracelets, his exposed bicep, and then a matching one over his head, the bow on top of his head. he smiling the whole time, blushing even, and it’s so prominent on his pale features.
you pinch his cheek in a teasing way before focusing on filming him. he poses cutely, showing off all of his bows to the camera, then excitedly jumping up to watch when you are finished. he hugs you from behind, careful to not ruin his bows, and asks to film the ending clip.
you obliged, of course, and turn it into selfie mode and pose with him. he’s smiling at the camera with you, then in the last couple of seconds, just turns his head and attacks you with a series of kisses, pecking your cheek over and over again until the video’s time was up.
“shota, you’re so cute,” you coo, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and taking him into your side.
“you are too,” he murmurs, watching the video with a content look on his face. his idea went through perfectly and he loved the results, plus it let him just give you as much affection as he wanted, so he was happy.
“soul and his bows, i’m glad he’s now spreadin the bow agenda with the other piwon members”
“is no one gonna talk about how cute the placements of their bows are? i wonder if they picked them for each other or for themselves…”
“soulie is always kissing on [name] id want to say im surprised, but im not”
kim jongseob - not really a trend, but he just compiles a whole video of you two taking care of each other which absolutely blows up and goes viral because of how lovey dovey it is, ppl are now convinced you two are dating.
— it’s a myriad of different clips of you just taking care of seob, doing various things that show your care and affection for him.
— he makes sure to include snippets of how he returns the favor to you, but the video is mainly centered around you and your mannerisms.
— you don’t even know he’s gotten all this footage of you being #whipped until he posts it on tiktok
“seobie, you want another blanket?” he’s laying down on the couch, subtly pointing the phone to you as he’s looking up at your concerned face, “it’s so cold here, what the hell? who changed the thermostat? i thought jiung and i told you guys to leave it alone,”
“it wasn’t me,” he weakly defends himself, but you just shake your head.
“it’s never you, because you’re the only good one here,” you say, extra emphasis on the word good so that it reaches the ears of the others in the dorm. you lean down and ruffle his hair slightly, “i’ll be back with more blankets and then we can watch a movie?”
“mhm, sounds good,” you smile at his response, pulling away and going to fetch the blanket as you had promised.
another clip shows the point of view of his phone propped up elsewhere, capturing the both of you on camera in the studio. your seats are pulled close together and you’re gently rubbing up and down his back, focused on the screen in front of you.
“i think it’d sound better if we just move this bit of keeho’s adlib, over to the—” jongseob’s lowkey got you tuned out as he’s so focused on you and your concentrated expression, admiring how hard you are working as well as how good you look while you do. you catch him staring, smiling and then smooshing his face away with your palm. “focus, seobie, i need your feedback on the arrangement already,”
“yes, sorry,” his tone is dull and monotone, trying to mask his slight embarassment. he grabs the mouse from you, suddenly invested in the work you had just done. you fondly look at him, bumping your forehead against his shoulder before refocusing on the task at hand.
there were many clips like that in the video, melting p1ece’s hearts. but the last one was jongseob’s personal favorite. he had fallen asleep in your room, sleeping soundly by your side, which gave you the perfect opportunity to steal his phone. you filmed a 0.5 video of yourself, whispering quielty, “love you jongseobie, rest welll,” at the camera before focusing the phone at him.
you were so touched watching the video, smothering him for a week straight after he had posted it. that was the closest you’d ever see how much jongseob’s eyes adored you, but even then this video wasn’t even half of that amount of love.
“jongseob really does love him wow, this is so sentimental”
“getting fomo on their friendship fr”
→ “ you mean their relationship…this was basc jongseob shouting how much he loves [name]”
“gotta be my favorite piwon x [name] tiktok yet, there r ltr tears in my eyes”
#p1harmony x reader#p1harmony x male reader#p1h x male reader#p1h x reader#p1h texts#p1h smau#keeho x male reader#keeho x reader#theo x male reader#theo x reader#jiung x male reader#jiung x reader#piwon x reader#piwon x male reader#piwon imagines#p1h imagines#p1harmony imagines#intak x male reader#intak x reader#soul x male reader#soul x reader#shota x male reader#shota x reader#jongseob x male reader#jongseob x reader
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MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS, I AM RAMBLING
God. The fact that Jimmy never once felt guilty for what he did to Anya makes me hate him SOOO much more. It’s like, Anya is the only woman on the ship, and I honestly think that is way more relevant than some people might assume. Because Jimmy felt at least a little guilty for what he did to everyone else.
But Anya? She’s just a woman. An object to him.
This is veering off in to my own interpretation but I think his fear of the baby manifesting as the Pony Express mascot seems like he doesn’t feel guilty for what he did- in fact he might not even think he did anything wrong at all- but he knows that the company won’t see it that way. If what he did is exposed his life is essentially even more over than it already was. And THAT’S what he’s so afraid of.
I really think he doesn’t see Anya as a person, at least not in the same way he does Curly, Daisuke, and Swansea. BECAUSE she is a woman. BECAUSE she is the only one. BECAUSE if they did somehow manage to escape she could ruin his life, despite his belief that he did nothing wrong.
That’s why he crashed the ship, right after Anya told him she was pregnant, he talked to Curly and when Curly wouldn’t do it he did it himself because he would’ve rather died and killed everyone on board than face the consequences of his actions.
Good lord. I fucking hate Jimmy guys
#mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#mouthwashing spoilers#analysis#media analysis#please consider this is just my own personal interpretation as an Anya STAN#I love her#I support her#I give her money for her abortion#I drive her to planned parenthood and buy her a cake afterwards#and then I kill Jimmy 1000 times
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GUYSSS IM SORRY I FORGOT MY DAMN PASSWORD LMAO
I’m here and I’m gonna give you guys some pjo shifting motivation because I think some of you need it 🫶🏼
i think a lot of people love and find comfort in percy jackson because a lot of us do struggle with adhd and dyslexia (I myself am one of them) and see ourselves in these characters. struggling with feeling like nobody gets you, like you don’t belong, that you’re dumb… its definitely not fun but these books had provided an outlet that made me and a whole lot of others feel seen.
when I came back from my percy jackson dr for the first time I didn’t think I was gonna get so emotional, but I did. I speak for a lot of us when I say we’ve grown up with these characters and MEETING them is something absolutely mind blowing. not only because they are so loved, but because all of us had gone through similar struggles. to this day at my big junior in high school age I don’t know what the fuck 9 x 8 is, the words still seem to rearrange themselves when I try to read…
I guess what I’m saying is yes, when you shift, you’ll meet the characters you love so so much, but you’ll also relate and connect to them in a way that you probably can’t even imagine.
I think a lot of people haven’t shifted yet because they think that shifting is like dreaming, that it’s something that will slip through your fingers, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’m sure a lot of you are thinking “but I do believe in shifting?” but I think some of you have a hard time actually wrapping your mind around it.
look around you right now. notice the temperature, the textures, the colors, the sensations, the smell, the sounds. notice how you are not dreaming.
THIS is EXACTLY what shifting is like. it is not like dreaming, because it’s NOT a dream it’s REAL.
look around you and imagine that you had shifted into where you are right now. its a bit trippy, isn’t it? looking at the world around you as if it isn’t your cr.
for example, look up from your device and imagine percy jackson in front of you right now. how does it make you feel? are you shocked? happy? afraid?
I really do believe that some people haven’t shifted yet because they think shifting will be like dreaming, and when they realize it isn’t like dreaming they are afraid of it subconsciously.
I’m here to tell you that it’s not scary at all. sure, you may wake up in your dr and start crashing out (which is totally understandable) but its not something you need to FEAR. please remember everything you desire will be there. it will be PERFECT and more than what you could ever imagine.
If you’re still worried you’ll start tweakin once you do shift, I find that scripting you’ll be calm and that you forgot you’ve shifted helps a lot. sure you’ll feel massive shock when you get back to your cr but initially when you wake up in your dr if you have those two things scripted you should be fine.
good luck to all you, sending so much love and good vibes. 🤍🖤✨🌊
#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo fandom#heros of olympus#percy jackson fandom#percy jackson x reader#riordanverse#reality shifting#shifting motivation
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Beast
Day 29- part 2. Doe x Halsin. Inspired by @starrforge!
She was diminutive in his arms, cradled against his muscular chest. He reclined against her couch, looking at once at home and comically too big for the modest space.
'People told me to stay away from you,' she said.
'Oh?' His voice held mild interest, but something in the air between them changed; a spark in his eye, perhaps. Something wild. 'And why might that be, my heart?'
'I think they just wanted you for themselves,' she said. 'Though I suspect something else.'
His hand tightened on her waist. 'Tell me your theories. I'm fascinated to know.'
'I reckon you're something of a beast, really. It's always the gentle ones you have to watch out for. And you're so big...'
His eyes flashed. 'You're toying with me, precious heart. That is... unwise.'
'Oh yeah?' She smirked. 'And why's that...?'
'Because I am,' he growled. With a cold jolt, she noticed for the first time how his teeth were too sharp, his nails a little too pointed as they dug into her soft skin, his eyes a little too hungry...
'You wouldn't hurt me though,' she said.
'No.' His voice was emphatic. 'No, never. But I can always spare a little punishment. There are consequences to goading the bear, Doe.'
'Okay, but consider,' she said, scrambling hurriedly off his chest and to her feet, 'that I was just kidding?'
'I wasn't,' he said smirking. 'Alright then, little one. Say you're joking. I know you're the curious sort. Surely you want to know...'
Shit. Got me there.
'...Maybe.'
'Alright. Then come here.'
She bit her lip. He planted his feet on the floor, rose and took a prowling step forward.
Fuck he's hot. And huge. And hot. Fuck.
'Losing your nerve, little bunny?'
'No.' A flare of indignation rose in her, her dark eyes defiant. 'I can take you.'
I shouldn't have said that.
'Hah! I'm sure you can. But you'll need to prove it, I fear.' He took another step. His frame was enormous in her pokey living room, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. His hands were open, extended towards her. No threat, but a thrill.
'I think I want you to fuck me stupid,' she said. Gasping, she clapped her hands over her mouth. 'Oh gods. That should have stayed a thought. Shit, sorry. Fuck.'
He laughed, shook the whole room with it, fixed her with an amused look. 'I'm willing if you are.'
'You- what?'
'If you want to cross the line of friendship, I admit I'm only too willing.'
Precious heart really should have been a clue.
'Oh.'
'C'mere to me.'
A trap. A trap! 'No. You first.'
'Well, if you want to play...' Halsin caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet. 'I hope you're prepared.'
'Not remotely,' she squeaked.
'I can stop if-'
'No, don't you dare. Consider this enthusiastic consent.'
'Hmmm.' He brought her to him, kissed her soundly and pulled back to watch her heave in air. 'Beautiful thing.' He set her down. 'Hands and knees in front of the mirror, love.'
She obeyed wordlessly. Thought about how anyone else would've gotten a snarky quip. He all but tore the clothes off her and she yelped in surprise, hands curling into the rug. And then he was naked too, advancing in the mirror. He grabbed her hip in one hand, pulled her head back to kiss her with the other, his too-sharp teeth dragging on her bottom lip. His hand stroked her flank, grabbed her other hip, and then he was easing into her, swallowing her whimpers as he stretched her deliciously-
'Fuck-' she gasped, grinding back against him, watching him in the mirror. He engulfed her in his bulk, his chest pressed to her back, drove into her none too gently- wild, this one.
Feral.
He wound her hair in his fist, fucked into her with such strength she almost buckled; he held her up, a hand splayed across her ample stomach, sliding down to roll his fingers gently on her clit, sending her crashing into orgasm- she screamed his name and he growled in approval, biting down on her shoulder as he chased his own release. He held her in his teeth, his hips snapping forward. The roar that ripped from him made her shiver as he came, sucking bruising marks into her neck as he filled her, watched with animal satisfaction as her eyes closed briefly in bliss, pulling out slowly. He shot her a wicked look, gathered the spill of his release from her thighs, pushed past her lips and over her tongue.
'Suck.'
She groaned around his fingers, tasting him. She found herself lifted into his arms, once again cradled against his chest.
'Holy shit,' she said. 'That-'
'Was simply a prelude,' he said, growling against her neck.
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Sunset
Their eyes meet, amber flickering in the reflections in Jack’s pupils. Tubbo’s skin is tingling, vision periodically blurring and he feels a little sick: life returning to atoms that were supposed to be done living is a little violent, a little uncomfortable. Tubbo waits for the nausea to subside before he gives Jack a nod, feeling the prickling shimmer of fire resistance in his system, before he turns towards the lava lighting the room and blocking the way. Or, at least, it had been.
“Really?” Tubbo pauses at Jack’s voice breaking the unnatural quiet. “I’m going to go get him.” “How will you get him out? He doesn’t have resistance as well.” “There’s a hole in the cell. We’ll swim out.”
They share a gaze that feels so very final, even after the past few eternities they’ve waited. “I hope you’re right about him.” “I know I am,” Tubbo affirms. “Have a good rest of your life, Jack.” “You too, man. You too.”
—
“You okay?” Tubbo’s voice bounces around the hollow chamber, echoing off warm obsidian. Tommy’s on his knees, cast in light by the fire at his feet, looking up at Tubbo like he’s looking at an angel. Maybe that’s a bit what it looks like. Tubbo’s not completely sure they count as alive anymore.
“Tubbo-” He stumbles as he tries to get up, as Tubbo scrambles down soft-sharp rock to reach him. They each stop a handful of strides from each other, just staring, just breathing, the amber light washing them out and making them look like the ghosts they feel like, and then Tommy closes the distance with a shriek of pained relief and they crash to the floor and they are very corporeal and very real and very alive.
They are alive.
Tommy’s crying, he realises, tears falling and very quickly drying due to their proximity to the lava in the floor. They almost ended up in the lava due to Tommy’s lunge, but it doesn’t matter because Tubbo’s teary too, and the warm glow around them is nothing to the warmth inside Tubbo that starts in his heart and expands outwards, steadily, steadily, bringing a feeling that might be life back into his bones and sinew. Coming back to life is new to him, but it’s not the worst feeling.
“I’m-” Tommy sputters between sniffs, “I’m sorry-” “Don’t you dare,” Tubbo pulls him closer, tucking him under his chin, like that’s ever had the power to keep him safe before. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t.” “Oh- Okay…” After a moment, he laughs. “Hello stranger.” Tubbo smiles and kisses him on the top of his head. He smells like smoke and death. “Hello. We gotta get out of here-” “Yeah…” “-We gotta get you home.” “Home?”
He kisses him one more time, before shifting to his elbows. Their eyes meet, and the light in Tommy’s eyes outshines everything else in this godforsaken room. “Home. We gotta go home.”
—
The room is golden with a refracted autumn sunset when Tubbo hears the click-clonk of the front door through the house. He’s still adjusting funnels and tubes as he hears the approaching footsteps get louder and louder, until Tommy’s leaning on the only empty counter by the door, smiling.
“You’ll never guess who I ran into.” “Who? No, don’t tell me,” Tubbo swaps a full bottle for an empty one. “Santa Claus?” Tommy splutters, “Obviously not. No, Jack. Jack Manifold.”
Tubbo stops to look at him properly, “Wait, really?” “Yeah, and-” He ‘rounds the counter and leans annoyingly on Tubbo’s shoulder. He’s so annoying. The Most Annoying. Tommy ‘The Most Annoying’ Innit. Tubbo feels that familiar warmth he feels whenever he’s near. “Get this- He’s been in the casino this whole time. In Las Nevadas. He’s a fucking gambler!”
Tubbo mulls this over for a moment, “Y’know… not what I was expecting.” “Right? But he says he’s happy enough, says he likes who he is now more than who he was before, and, I figured, that’s good enough, right?” Tubbo smiles, turning the knob on his filtration contraption, and the golden liquid thins to a stop. He pulls off his gloves and pulls Tommy into an embrace. “Yeah. Good for him. And, y’know, hopefully he does alright. Financially.” “That’s what I said too. He was pleasant. Much more than I was expecting actually. Y’know, considering.”
Tubbo closes his eyes a moment, thinks back. “He was a good guy. Just- Just another victim of… of that place.” He gives Tommy a squeeze, “I believe it’s your turn to cook tonight, Big Man, and you’re late.” “Bloody hell,” Tommy pulls back. Standing behind Tubbo’s equipment, the light cast through the window is the rich colour of butterscotch, and Tommy looks like he’s been dipped in honey. His eyes, his hair, the buttons on his coat all shine gold. They share a wide smile, and Tubbo would bet his life Tommy’s thinking the same looking at him - that neither could go into the darkness without reaching out for the other.
Except he already did. And won.
#i couldn't not :)#dream smp#crim writes#tommyinnit#tubbo#jack manifold#dsmp fic#feels good to use those tags again after so long :')#right i have to go bed now but this has been so special. what a beautiful ending. i never thought we'd have this#this healed something inside me. so one more post-stream ficlet#for the road
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So..... regarding those news about Nicholas Kole's crash 5.....
I'm going to explode.
#WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.#WHAT THE FUCK#WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK#I HATE IT HERE WHYYYYYYY#SO YOURE TELLING ME WE WERE GONNA HAVE MORE OF CORTEX'S FAMILY MEMBERS. PINSTRIPE AND TINY RETURNING.#THE ACADEMY OF EVIL???#AND ALSO THE 2ND PITCH WAS A SPYRO CROSSOVER THAT HAD UKA UKA AS THE MAIN ANTAGONIST?????????#Im gonna do it chat. im so fucking mad.#i still hope mama cortex (sharon) hugh G. Cortex Cera Cortex and ID Cortex are still canon because OH MY GOD.......#ik i have a follower who isnt a fan of this direction. and i respect them deeply.#but seriously WHAT THE FUCK ACTIVISION WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT MONEY AND NOT PEOPLE'S PASSIONS#fuck the n sane trilogy.#fuck nitro fueled.#AND MOST IMPORTANTLY. FUCK. ACTIVISION.#sorry guys im still so fucking pissed...#if the pandemic didnt happen crash 4 could've sold more copies than 5 million!! just saying.#also crash team rumble.................. i miss you....... </3#crash bandicoot#comet's blasted bandicoot buffoonery#comet rambles#i hate this planet im gonna do it#i really hope the people who worked on this found better work elsewhere and are getting treated better.#i know nicholas is having a blast at studio mhdr by now..#i wish everyone nothing but the best of luck!!#once again. FUCK YOU ACTIVISION.
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people keep telling me like Wow youre getting so much done im so proud of u U must be feeling better . and like i get by all external capitalistic standards this is Good Actually. however it is actually really really bad for me and i am feeling so bad. every day i wake up push myself way too far past what i can handle and then go to my room curl up in bed and cry for multiple hours . i am approaching a breaking point the burnout/depressive episode/hospitalization/shutdown/dissociative episode/whatever is gonna be super fun. And everyone will say What happened i thought you were doing well. but like Are you normally doing well when you do assignments is that fun for you
#text#neg#and i try explaining it and people look concerned but idont think they get it#because for most people this would be good. but for me its not#and i dont knoww how to explain that and i dont think people will get it once i crash either#im not . built for school im not built for work im only doing this so i have somewhere to live really#i am so fucking tired guys its not even funny 👍👍👍
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this guy joining Echo in Ninjago Characters I AM Going To Be Thinking About Forever btw.
#ninjago#ninjago liveblog#ninjago okino#They really gave me a side character whos an NPC guide in a video game (but doesnt know it) and then made him Find Out and fall into a#a depression about his entire lifes purpose being for naught and that his entire worldnis fucking fake and then have him break free of his#of his coding and Go To The Real World#im. hes so everything#BUT THE SCENE WHERE HES TRAINING AND FAILING TO PROPERLY GUIDE HIS PLAYERS OVER AND OVER AND OVER BC THEYRE TREATING IT LIKE A GAME BC THEY#BC THEY HAVE MULTIPLE LIVES BUT THEIR DEATHS ARE REAL /TO HIM!!!/ HE HAS TO WATCH ALL THAT AND IT MEANS SOMETHING TO HIM BECAUSE#BECAUSE GUIDING THE PLAYERS IS HIS WHOLE PURPOSE!!!! BUT TO THEM HES JUST THE TUTORIAL HELPER CHARACTER!!! AUAU#i do also like Racer 7. An NPC /programmed to lose/‚ only there to add a challenge to the actual players and yet she NEVER STOPS TRYING...#but she always crashes at the exact same spot in the race. every. time.#AUUGH.
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