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#posting early but it’s fine. Imagine it’s Saturday
todaysbird · 8 months
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trevuorzegras · 21 days
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━╋ BETTING, PART TWO
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summary: in which y/n y/l/n falls for the wrong guy, who turns out to have just bet on her. 2/4
mark estapa makes a bet that y/n will fall for him, for a great price of $100 from his friend, adam fantilli.
strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers.
pairings: mark estapa x fem!reader
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her.
For the next month or so, Dylan, and Y/N had grown closer than ever. In fact he was attending her physical therapy sessions whenever he wasn’t busy with hockey, or classes. She was grateful to have someone by her side, who understood her struggle as to why she hated being away from the ice.
Y/N had friends, of course she did, she was a ray of sunshine. She was amazing to be around, and people knew that. However she didn’t have friends that understood the love she had for skating. Having Dylan around was like a breath of fresh air for her, she finally had someone she could talk about her problems with.
Dylan didn’t mind her ranting, because ultimately he knew how she felt. He couldn’t imagine not being able to skate, let alone not being able to skate for the rest of the year. Y/N enjoyed that Dylan didn’t look at her wiyh pity, like she was just the girl who could no longer preform. He looked at her like she was someone who would recover, and would do something great.
Y/N enjoyed Dylan’s company, just as he had enjoyed hers. He enjoyed her company so much so, that he had invited her to almost all of his games. She attended as many as she could, most were home games. She may not have been able to skate herself, but she enjoyed watching Dylan, and his team.
He had invited her quite a few times to join him at the post hockey party that accrued after every home game, however she always had an excuse. “I’m busy.” “I would love to, but i have early class tomorrow.” “I promised my roommate i’d be home early.” “I’m actually hanging out with my friends tonight.”
She knew her excuses were pathetic, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to parties. Not after all that had happened, she mentally cursed herself for the way it all went down. Her couch told her she wasn’t ready, she told her! She just hadn’t listened. She thought she could do it, but she couldn’t, eventually possibly coasting her the future she wanted.
After what felt like an eternity, Dylan was finally able to convince Y/N to come to a party with him. The conversation had begun just after the two of them left the doctors office, at which her physical therapy sessions were held.
Dylan stopped walking for a moment, causing Y/N’s eyebrows to furrow. She turned towards the boy who stood a few inches taller than her, a look of confusion clear on her features. “Sunshine, i know you will most likely say no, but would you please consider going to the party tonight?” Y/N thought for a second, before shaking her head, “I don’t know, Duker.”
Dylan had a pleading look in his eyes as he turned towards the girl, a look of hope in his eyes, “Please? Come on Sunny! It’s a Saturday!” Y/N looked the boy in his eyes, she watched as he gave her a look. A look that she knew all too well. It was look Dylan gave her when he wanted her to do something with him. She mostly got the look when he wanted her to attend a party. It became a routine of Dylan’s, asking Y/N to come to parties with him, that is.
Y/N took one last look at the boy who still had that same pleading look on his face, before groaning. “Fine! One party, that’s it.” Dylan’s face lit up, and the words that left her mouth, a small squeal leaving his throat as a smile broke onto his face. “You won’t regret it!”
So there Y/N was, a couple of hours later stood in her dorm room, Dylan sat on her bed as she got ready. He couldn’t explain how excited he was that she finally agreed to go to a party with him. Dylan had told his team about the young girl on multiple occasions, however they’ve never seen the girl. They also didn’t know her real name. Dylan had been referring to Y/N as Sunny, or Sunshine since about a week into their friendship.
The entire hockey team had only known the girl as Sunny. That’s what Dylan had always called her in front of them, it never occurred to him that he didn’t ever tell the group her real name, nor showed them a photo of her.
Dylan sat not so patiently on the girls bed, as she finished putting on her lipgloss. Dyan had been complaining none stop since she started getting ready, “Can you hurry up, we’re going to be late.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy, a sarcastic smile on her face, “You cannot be late to a party, Dyl.” The forward let out another groan, throwing his head back, causing Y/N to laugh coming out of the bathroom.
As Y/N walks out, she smooths out her tight black leather skirt, the red corset hugging her body tightly. Y/N’s eyes meet Dylan, as his mouth opens slightly. Dylan takes a moment, before he speaks up, “You look great, Sunny. I’m glad you decided to come with me tonight.” Y/N smiled at the boy’s compliment, “Thank you, D. I’m glad i decided to attend as well.”
Eventually Y/N found herself in front of the hockey house, Dylan standing by her side, a soft smile on his face. Dylan asked her if she was ready to go in, to which she nodded. As the duo walked into the house, loud music overtook the girl, her face scanning for any familiar faces.
Y/N hadn’t seen anyone that she recognized, she moved her eyes forward deciding to ignore the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. She finally moved her eyes forward, as Dylan had come to a stop. She was about to give the boy a confused face until she saw they had stopped in front of a group of guys, causing her face to flush.
“Sunshine, this is some of the guys i’ve been telling you about.” Y/N thought for a moment, before her face lit up, “Oh yes! The team, right, nice to meet you guys, i’ve heard a lot about you all!” Y/N look towards a taller boy, with a slight beard, and damp hair as he spoke, “Nice to meet you, Sunny, is it?”
Y/N laughed for a moment, before looking back up to the group that stood in front of her, “My name isn’t actually Sunny, you guys do know that, right?” One of the guys eyes widened, as he looked towards Dylan, “No we did not know that, we always kind of assumed your name was Sunny, because of the whole Sunshine thing.”
A smile once again takes over her features, as she playfully punched the boy stood beside her. “You never told them my real name, Dyl?” As the boy turns away embarrassed, he groaned, “I thought i did! I guess Sunny, and Sunshine have always just been what i say in front of them.”
Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, throwing her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Dylan quickly hugged the girl back, before she pulled away, “Well my name is Y/N. Sunshine, and Sunny are just nicknames that Duker has picked up.” Dylan groaned again, “Whatever. I’m going to go get a drink, want anything Sun- Y/N?” Y/N let out a laugh at the boy, before nodding, “Just a water is fine.”
As the boy made his way to the kitchen, Y/N turned her attention back to the group in front of her. To her surprise the guys had already been staring at her, “So you’re who Dylan has been spending his time with?” Y/N blushes slightly at the sudden question, before nodding slightly, “I guess so? We’ve been hanging out a lot more recently, and he takes me to my physical therapy sessions sometimes. I’m sorry if i’ve been taking up all his t-”
The girl was quickly cut off by a boy with fluffy blonde hair, who if she had to guess would be Mark. “No, no. Don’t apologize, we just haven’t really seen Duker hang out with anyone who wasn’t the team. We’re glad he has someone who he can escape with.”
The boy stood beside him, who had assumed her name was Sunny spoke again, “He told us about the accident, we’re really sorry about that. We understand how hard being off the ice is. I can’t even imagine being off ice until next year. That must really suck, huh?”
Y/N looked towards her feet, as she suddenly felt on the spot. She hadn’t thought about the accident much anymore, at least not anywhere outside of physical therapy. Y/N nodded at the boy, “It’s been hard, but if i make sure to keep up with physical therapy, then i should be back the second the new season starts.”
Y/N was grateful when Dylan had finally gotten back with their drinks, him quickly saying something about the kitchen being packed. All she could do was nod, trying to be polite without sounding bitchy.
Y/N didn’t have a problem with Dylan’s teammates, in fact they seemed nice, but the last thing she wanted to do right now was think of the accident. That’s all she had been thinking about the last month or so, everything reminded her of it. The decorations hanging on her walls, the metals from comps, her teammates, everything. She hated the feeling, this feeling she had been feeling for the last month, but slowly it had been going away, with Dylan it was going away.
For what seemed like forever, Y/N followed Dylan around like a lost puppy. She wasn’t afraid to say she stuck by his side, she hadn’t known anyone besides him there. Well she did know the hockey team now, but she definitely wouldn’t say they were friends.
Dylan had decided he wanted to play beer pong with Rutger, Luca and Ethan. Sure enough Dylan had asked her to join, to which she quickly declined. Y/N was never a drinker, even before her accident. She would maybe drink once every couple of months, but now she had honestly sworn off drinking.
him.
Mark stood beside Adam as his eyes drifted to Y/N. He wasn’t sure why, but he was intrigued by the girl. Maybe it was the fact she was a skater? Maybe it was that she was pretty? He may never know what drew him into her.
His thoughts were quickly cut off by Adam, who slapped his arm, “You’re staring.” Mark shook his head, taking one last look at the girl who was now sat on a couch, phone in her hand. “No i am not.”
Luca cut into their conversation by throwing in a quick, “You definitely were.” This caused Mark to let out a groan, throwing his head back against the wall he stood in front of. “Why don’t you ask her out?”
Mark looked towards Adam as if he had three heads, shaking his head quickly, “Absolutely not, dude i just met her!” Luca shrugged at he took a shot at Ethan, and Dylan’s cups, “You won’t ever know her if you don’t ask.”
“He’s right, Mark. She’s my bestfriend, i’m sure she’d say yes. She hasn’t really had time for a relationship, cause of the accident, but with summer coming up, i’m sure she’d like to try.” Adam smirked at Dylan’s words as an idea popped into his head, “Why don’t we make a bet?”
Mark raised his eyebrows at the younger boy, “What kind of bet?” Adam simply shrugged, throwing his arms around the dirty blonde. “I bet you.. Let’s say a hundred bucks, that you can’t get Y/N to fall for you. If she falls, you get a hundred bucks, if she doesn’t.. Then consider me a hundred dollars richer.”
Dylan was the first to protest, “Dude i just said she hasn’t had a relationship in a while, and your first thought is to fucking bet on her?” Adam once again shrugs, bringing Mark closer to him, “Just think about it.”
next part
check out my college hockey masterlist, here!
i’m so excited for this story, you guys actually have no idea. i don’t really ever have opportunities to actually write so i took my chance 🤗 (not proof read.)
taglist | @wnderify @bunbunbl0gs
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candycandy00 · 1 year
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Trending Topics - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic
I intended to post this on Saturday in honor of Dabi's Dance being animated but I finished it earlier than expected and I have no patience so I'm unleashing it to the world now, a few hours early lol. I hope everyone enjoys!
Smut. 18+. Rough sex. Creampie. Probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. Oh yeah, spoilers for Dabi's Dance!
Dabi leans back on the couch and holds his phone up to his face. “Let’s see what everyone has to say about my old man now,” he mutters, opening various social media apps to see what the general public’s reaction to his shocking video was. He could already imagine the outrage over the abuse allegations, the anger over the number one hero raising a violent murderer. He could also imagine the fanboys who would defend Endeavor no matter what, who would go to online war with the detractors who were horrified by Dabi’s video. All of it would be amusing to read through. Dabi will enjoy the online chaos. So he grins wickedly as he opens Twitter.
The names Dabi, Endeavor, and Todoroki Touya are already trending. Naturally. But then Dabi notices a few other “trending topics” that catch his eye. “#Dabisofine”, “#Touyasohot”, and “#SteponmeDabi” are all trending. Surprised and curious, Dabi begins clicking through some of the posts. After a few minutes, he sits up from the couch and stares at the screen incredulously. The tweets flashing by his eyes are definitely not what he expected the result of his video to be.
“OMG Dabi is so fucking hot! How have I never seen this guy before?”
“Okay Touya is definitely the sexiest Todoroki. Just look at him!”
“All I can say is, Dabi can light a fire in my panties any day!”
“Y’all… the things I would let Todoroki Touya do to me…”
“I want Dabi to rail me until I can’t walk.”
Dabi isn’t sure what to think about this. On one hand, he’s a little mad that his big dramatic reveal has been overtaken by posts like this. There’s even a long thread of posts and replies arguing over whether or not his dick has staples in it (it does, and the urge to tell them so wells up within him for a brief moment before dying away). But on the other hand, he feels… flattered? He’s never once thought of himself as sexy or even remotely good looking. All that scarring, all those burns… he felt like Frankenstein’s monster.
Years ago, he’d pretty much resigned himself to never having a lover. Who would want to even touch someone who looked like him? But it didn’t bother him all that much. After all, he was so focused on his revenge, he didn’t really have time for romance anyway. He’d shoved any thoughts of sex or love far away into the back of his mind. Of course he has hormones. He’s human, after all. Occasionally he even has urges, but he takes care of those himself.
Now though, reading through these tweets, those urges he’d shoved down are resurfacing. Out of curiosity, he clicks on the profile of the person who made that last tweet about wanting him to “rail” them. There are pictures of a very pretty young woman who looks to be in her early twenties. He also finds more posts about him.
“God, Dabi is so fine. Those scars really do it for me.”
“I wish I could feel that skin. All over me. I don’t care if he’s a villain.”
“Endeavor is a fucking monster. How could anyone treat such a beautiful person so badly?!”
Then more pictures of the woman. One of them in particular catches Dabi’s attention. It looks like she’s standing on the balcony of an apartment. In the background, he can see a restaurant sign straight across from her that he recognizes. Also in the background are several plants in colorful pots, sitting around her balcony.
Dabi rereads her tweets, then comes to a decision. He grins as he heads out the door.
*****
You hum to yourself as you water your potted plants on your balcony, then check your phone. There are tons of notifications from Twitter. Your posts about Dabi, Todoroki Touya, are getting a lot of likes. They’re also getting the attention of some seriously pathetic Endeavor fans who are trying, and failing, to justify the hero’s behavior. Some of them are just outright saying it’s all a lie, that Dabi’s video is just a phony hit piece. You can’t believe how naive they are, or maybe they’re just willfully ignorant. Either way, you’re already running through arguments and points in your mind that you can shoot back with as you step back into your apartment, leaving the glass door to your balcony open.
You step over to the sink and pour yourself a glass of water, still scrolling through replies with one hand, completely absorbed in your phone. A sudden sound, like a heavy thud, comes from your balcony as you’re walking back toward the door, about halfway through your small living room.
You look up from your phone and see Dabi himself standing just inside the door. He gives you a grin and says, “What was it you want me to do again? Rail you until you can’t walk?”
The glass of water slips from your hand and crashes on the floor. You don’t even look down at it. Your eyes are glued to this extremely sexy villain standing in your living room. One who has apparently read all the pervy tweets you made about him. Your mouth falls open, but you have no idea what to say.
He takes one step closer. “Or did you want to feel my skin all over you? Well, here I am.”
“Oh my God,” you finally manage to say, still staring at him. “Is this really happening?”
He tilts his head to the side, his hair falling over one bright blue eye. “That’s up to you.”
You slowly step closer to him, as if he’ll disappear if you approach too quickly. He’s gorgeous, but he’s still a villain. You don’t want to upset him. But damn, you really want to touch him. Maybe just ask for permission?
“Can I… touch you?” you ask.
“That’s what I’m here for,” he says, his grin showing his teeth.
You take one more step, effectively closing the distance between you and him. You reach out one hand and gently touch the side of his face, feeling the spaces where the scarring and healthy skin meet, your fingers grazing over the staples and piercings. You watch his expression, but it remains unchanged. Clearly, he’s not bothered by this.
“You’re so beautiful,” you say in a quiet voice, the words slipping out before you think them through.
Something shifts in his eyes. For a split second, the playful deviance vanishes and something else, something heartbreaking, takes its place. But then he grins again and says, “Look who’s talking.”
Does that mean he thinks you’re beautiful too? You feel a blush creep into your face. “Are you really here to rail me?” you ask.
“Do you really want me to?” he shoots back.
When you answer, your voice is more breathless than you expected. “More than anything.”
He reaches behind him and pulls the door shut, then follows you to your bedroom. As soon as you enter the room, you begin pulling your clothes off. Dabi watches you, not yet taking any of his clothing off. You feel like you’re doing a strip tease, with his eyes following your every move. It’s making heat spread through your body.
When you’re completely naked, you approach him and tug at his jacket. He lets you slide it off his shoulders and drop it on the floor, then he pulls his shirt over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless in the video, but nothing compares to seeing that lovely two-tone skin in person. Dabi’s eyes shift to the floor for a moment. Is he self-conscious about the scars? It seems ludicrous to you, especially since he was willing to show them off to the world in the video. But maybe showing them to someone in person is different.
You can’t help yourself, you have to touch him. You press both hands to his chest and slide them down, gingerly feeling the staples and the different textures of his skin. “It’s amazing,” you whisper.
His eyes shift back to you, and there’s an unreadable expression on his face. Not exactly embarrassed. Not exactly proud. It’s something like surprise, like no one has ever touched him before. “You have a scar fetish or something?” he asks, the playful tone seeming like a mask for whatever he’s actually feeling.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a fetish. I do like scars though. They’re unique to the person who carries them. They tell a story.”
He’s looking into your eyes now as your hands slide down to unbutton his pants. “And what story do mine tell?”
You meet his gaze and say, “One that’s very painful, I can imagine. I’d love to know the whole story someday. For now, I just think they’re mesmerizing to look at, and they feel incredible to the touch.” By this point you’ve pushed his pants down to his ankles, and he steps out of them. He’s not wearing underwear, and you can see all the glorious lines of scarring and staples across his thighs and hips. His cock is unscarred, but there are a few staples in it. You wonder about their purpose, but don’t ask.
Your hands run down his body, over his abdomen, moving around him to brush over his well-toned ass, and then you take his cock into one of your hands and lightly stroke it. It’s been growing harder by the moment, and the motion of your hand is speeding that process up.
Dabi sucks in air through his teeth, his eyes closing and opening slowly like a cat’s. Once he’s fully erect, he reaches down and pulls your hand away. “You’ve been looking me over this whole time. I think I should get a turn.”
With that, he suddenly picks you up and carries you to the bed. The feel of his bare skin on yours sends shivers through your body, and you miss the feel of it when he sits you down on the mattress. You scoot back to give him room, and he gently pushes your legs apart. He hovers over you, his eyes moving all over you, his hands finally reaching out to grope your breasts. His hands are firm and warm as they knead the plump mounds, then he scoots back slightly and leans forward, so that his head is positioned close to your groin.
Dabi uses his fingers to spread open your flesh and look at what’s inside. Then he leans even closer and runs his tongue along the inner folds, tasting your arousal. When his tongue hits your clit, you arch your back and moan. Dabi looks up at you with that unreadable expression again, like he’s just now understanding how much you really want him.
Then he grins again, because he’s discovered your weak spot. His tongue traces circles around your clit, making you squirm beneath him, wanting him to hit the bullseye again. He finally has mercy on you and closes his lips around the sensitive nub, sucking on it before running his tongue over it again. He even lightly grazes it with his teeth.
You cry out in pleasure, running one hand through his soft white hair and using the other to grip the sheets beside you. What name should you call out? Dabi? Touya? You’re not sure, so you so you stick to moans and wordless cries as he absolutely devours you. When you cum, it’s like a tsunami has hit your body, rocking it with wave after wave of rippling pleasure. Your whole body tenses up, your toes curl, and your hand in his hair tightens.
After a few seconds, your body relaxes, and Dabi pulls away, licking his lips. You feel weak, but you see the raging erection between his legs and know you can’t rest yet. He still hasn’t done what he came here to do. You reach for him, placing your hands on his scarred shoulders and pulling him toward you. You want, no need, him inside you. It’s an ache you felt the moment his video started. When you saw that body, those glowing blue eyes, that expression of carefully contained rage and pain… you wanted him like nothing before.
He lingers on top of you, not doing anything, just watching your face. Why is he hesitating? You try to pull him closer, but he’s not budging.
“Please,” you whimper, spreading your legs further apart, giving him the easiest access you can, “do it!”
Desire and lust seem to flame in his eyes. He wants to, you know it. But he waits. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he says, his voice husky and low. Oh, now you see. He wants you to beg for it. Well, you can certainly do that.
You raise your hips from the bed and rub you drenched pussy across the underside of his cock. “Please, I want you inside me! Please fuck me!”
That seemed to do the trick. He smiles as he positions himself just right, then shoves his cock all the way in. He’s so much bigger than you expected, filling you up completely. As he pulls out a few inches, the staples scrape your insides in such a delicious way, you can’t help moaning again. He begins a rhythm of thrusting in and out, slowly at first and then picking up speed. You look up at him, and he’s thrown his head back, his eyes closed, his hands gripping your thighs.
He’s definitely railing you now, but it’s not enough. You might be able to walk tomorrow. In a panting voice, you cry out, “Harder!”
He opens his eyes and looks at your face, sees the lusty desperation there, and suddenly thrusts in so hard that you imagine his cock has entered your womb. His hands move to your waist, where he holds you steady as he pounds you into the mattress, every thrust feeling like it might just break your bones.
You love it. This is what you wanted. This man, this gorgeous, pained, scarred, unique person, being so deep inside you. One of his hands moves to your breast, where he roughly squeezes it. You’re going to be covered in bruises when this is over, but you’ll look at each one with joy.
Your hands are above your head, holding onto the brass headboard for dear life. Dabi moves his hand from your breast down to your clit, where he rubs it, hard enough to make you wince. You were already so sensitive from the earlier action, you cum again on the spot, your body convulsing with your orgasm.
Dabi doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck you as hard as he can as you tremble under him, tears falling from your eyes. You let go of the headboard and lift your weak, shaky arms to wrap them around his neck. To your surprise, he moves his hand from your sore clit and uses it to hold your head up, closer to him, his fingers intertwining with your hair in a gentle fashion. It’s an intimate gesture you didn’t expect from him, even as he rails you as promised. Finally, he cums inside you, filling you with hot sticky fluid, his grip on your waist tightening but the hand in your hair remaining soft. When he’s done, he pulls out and falls onto the bed beside you. You want to cuddle up to him, but you’re not sure how he would react to that. You just met. It’s not like you’re in a relationship.
After a few minutes, your naked body has cooled slightly, so you pull a sheet over the both of you. You reach over to the nightstand to get your phone and ask, “Would you mind if I take a picture of us?”
He looks over at you and says, “What, as a souvenir?”
You blush a little as you answer. “Yeah.”
He scoots closer to you and says, “Sure.”
You hold the phone up, pointing the camera at your faces. It’s obvious the two of you are topless, but you make sure the bottom of the image cuts off just before your tits are shown. You snap the picture and smile as you look at it. “Thanks,” you say.
Dabi gets out of bed and begins putting his clothes back on. “Are you gonna post it?”
You look up at him. “Hmm?”
“The picture. Are you gonna post it on Twitter?”
“Do you mind if I do?”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me.”
You smile and open Twitter, add some comments and hashtags, and post the photo. Dabi pulls on his boots and says, “I better go. If I found your place from looking at your pictures, I’m sure the heroes can too.”
You suddenly regret posting it. “Wait, does that mean you can’t come back here?”
He looks at you with that unreadable expression again. “Do you want me to come back?”
“Of course I do!”
There’s a small notebook and a pen lying on your nightstand. Dabi picks them up and writes something down. “Here’s my number. Call me and we can meet up somewhere.”
You feel an incredible sense of relief. You can still see him. You can call him, maybe even get to know him for real. You take the notebook in your hands and cradle it, as if it’s a treasure. “Thanks,” you say.
Dabi shrugs again, rubbing the back of his head casually. “No problem,” he says back, seeming just a little awkward about it. “See you around then.”
He leaves through the balcony door, and you start humming happily to yourself again as you head for the shower.
*****
Once Dabi gets back to the hideout, he pulls out his phone and checks Twitter. There’s a new post by his new favorite user. There’s the picture of the two of you. Beneath it is a caption, as well as some hashtags. As he reads it, a grin spreads across his face, and then he breaks out into laughter.
“Got railed by the hottest Todoroki! Best day ever! #Dabisofine #Yesithasstaples #Villainsdoitbetter #EatshitEndeavor”
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chibivesicle · 1 year
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Trigun directly informs the character designs for Kekkai Sensen/Blood Blockade Battlefront
I’ve been thinking about a fun little meta for awhile about how much of the vibes and character style from Trigun translated over to Kekkai Sensen/Blood Blockade Battlefront.  Taking my brain off of hardcore Trigun for a bit let’s have some fun with Yasuhiro Nightow’s character design and how he likes to recycle and reform them.
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The Japanese DVD box set volume 3 shows my three favorite charas in a  Norman Rockwell The Saturday Evening Post parody.  Steven drives a car while Chain snacks and K.K. screams excitedly.
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The fact that the animation creative team went in this direction meant they were really having fun with the anime, but let’s dig into how Trigun translated more to Blood Blockade Battlefront.
Characters from Trigun and how they relate to Blood Blockade Battlefront
Vash the Stampede = K. K.
That’s right, our pacifist gunslinger is re imagined as the Bratatat Mom, code name K. K.
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The character design has the same red duster jacket with tight black clothing underneath.  K.K. even has some finger less gloves for her ease of operating either her sniper rifle or her handgun.  She can also use two handguns at the same time while fighting.  They are tall and lanky, have blonde hair and both can be bubbly at times to cover up how they are really feeling.  Vash’s unique sunglasses became an eye patch for K. K. and she will also cover her eyes with sunglasses to not attract attention to the right eye as well.  Unlike Vash, K.K. is willing to kill a target if necessary and has the most awesome husband ever and two sons.  I very much like her character and wish she were a more involved member of the B3 cast but by her nature, is a bit more of a loner but seen as quite powerful.  She is critical of the patriarchy and has a real axe to grind with Steven who is closest to her and still different from her; this is due to the fact that they are the two senior members of the team over thirty and made different choices in their personal/private lives.
Meryl Stryfe = Leonardo Watch
The very detail oriented and short fused insurance adjuster Meryl is now Leonardo a budding journalist who by sheer luck joins Libra. Considering that Meryl ended the manga as a reporter it makes sense for this to be Leo’s starting place.
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Both characters can be quick to snap out a remark of shock or annoyance, are the shortest adult member of the cast and have short dark hair.  Meryl’s hair was black with a purple undertone and so is Leo’s with more purple.  By B3 Back 2 Back, Leo’s hair picks up a more red tone which eventually translates into the anime adaption.  These characters frequently point out how absurd the events around them are while the rest of the cast calmly accepts things at face value.  Unlike Meryl in the manga, Leo is the reader’s entry point into the city and plays a role very similar to the anime version of her.  Like Vash, Leo is not the type of character to take a life and instead serves as support for the rest of the team early on in his time with Libra.  Both respect life and even though we know that Meryl has shot individuals in the manga and implied to have in the anime, she takes it very seriously and treats it with due respect.
Milly Thompson = Klaus V. Reinherz
The somewhat ditzy, honest and emotionally mature Milly is now seen in the character of Klaus; a true gentleman and total tank of a character.  Klaus towers over Leo, the same way as Milly is considerably taller than Meryl.
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Klaus, gives zero fucks what others think about him, has no bias based on gender, species, affiliation, race etc etc.  He’s one of the most genuine characters who could crush opponents and enjoys a fine cup of tea just like Milly.  They both have more casual looks with ties, suspenders/vest and dark pants.  At first, Klaus was a decent character in my opinion but as the anime progressed, he grew on me and grew on me until realizing that I really do like him and his well balanced approach to life.  He enjoys simple pleasures in life like taking the subway, playing chess and/or prosfair and watering all the plants at the Libra main office.  Klaus is always there to accept Leo and encourage him along the way.  He never takes his strength for granted and can’t say no to others.
Also like Milly, Klaus is emotionally mature and works to help others calm down in sticky situations or encourage them when stuck.  He is frequently paired with Leo who greatly respects him and learns from him.  He also does not appear to have a driver’s license meaning he either ends up in the same car as Leo or trying to fit himself on Leo’s small motorbike.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood = Chain Sumeragi
The amazing werewolf of Libra, Chain is the first version of Wolfwood in B3.  Her character design is female Wolfwood other than her black vs tan shoes.
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She occasionally has a small firearm, but was a terrible shot to not become an elite assassin and instead wanted to remain in intelligence.  Chain has the some of Wolfwood’s more juvenile pranks or remarks especially when Zapp is involved with her.  Chain is sarcastic, but it is targeted at one individual - Zapp Renfro and only Zapp.  It appears since Zapp and Leo are frequently together along with Zed, she’ll tease Leo a little but does not hurt him when she lands on him or sits on his head, instead only giving out pain to Zapp.  She has a high alcohol tolerance and will help out characters but doesn’t like for them to realize it at the time.  Like when Leo’s wallet got stolen from him in ‘Day In Day Out’ but she sticks it in his shirt collar as opposed to giving it back to him.  Chain is the sort of character who doesn’t want to be recognized and instead hang back and do things quietly.
Nicholas D. Wolfwood = Steven A. Starphase
The names alone show that these two characters are directly related.  Yet, Steven has a real middle name, Alan, as opposed to the D being whatever Yasuhiro Nightow felt it should be when interviewed in the moment.
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Early on in the first volume of the manga, Steven also goes without his characteristic yellow tie with a dark blue dress shirt making him look even more like Wolfwood.  They both frequently are shown with a hand or two in their pockets and can be quite charismatic and friendly.  They have foodie tastes and respect well prepared meals.  Both men also have to deal with darker situations which their partner[Vash]/boss [Klaus] would not deal with.  Wolfwood did not hesitate to kill opponents of Vash to prevent further damage while, Steven will make sure that certain problems disappear before they reach the rest of Libra.  One could say they move in the shadows, but Wolfwood is more of a character who deals with things directly, while Steven has the right person or party on speed dial.    Wolfwood worked within the system of the Eye of Michael making him somewhat legit while Steven is the direct contact to the HLPD, FBI, governmental bodies, and likely organizations that straddle grey areas.  The fact that Steven will go through proper channels indicates a greater respect for the rule of law and civil society only moving into shady areas when absolutely necessary.
Therefore, with the basic character design and personalities it is pretty logical that we get certain pairings to generate enjoyable dynamics.
Meryl & Milly - Leo & Klaus.  The small hardworking realist with a quick temper is teamed up with the honest, occasionally ditzy giant.  Neither character looks down on the other and they are able to learn about themselves and others through their interactions.  Without Leo, Klaus would be unable to seal Blood Breeds.  Without Klaus, Leo would not learn to accept his guilt and gain confidence in himself and helping others.  Leo frequently doesn’t see his own strength since it is through his relationships and not physical force like Klaus demonstrates.
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The size difference alone is exactly like Meryl and Milly here!  Leo is the one who is more than aware of what Zapp is planning to do quickly as events unfold but Klaus never even realizes that he’d been played by Zapp.  The two have genuine hearts and respect of all life (that isn’t trying to kill them at least).
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One color panel for the manga which really captures B3 well and how close Klaus and Leo are is the following.  They are likely relaxing or killing time at the office enjoying the quiet.  Leo and Klaus are playing video games while Sonic watches next to them.  Meanwhile, the Luddite that he is, Steven loosens his tie while reading the daily paper.
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Steven isn’t even paying attention to what they are doing. But Sonic is.  It is clear that Leo and Klaus are having fun and building on their relationship with each other.
Vash & Wolfwood = K.K. & Steven.  The two senior members of Libra frequently are teamed up together even though K.K. is annoyed by Steven (likely because he never lets her take time off to be with her family).  Steven frequently tries to play it cool with his calm demeanor while K. K. likes to tease him due to his rather academic approach to things ‘Dr. Steven-sensei’.  Despite their vocal bickering, the two work quite well together.
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In Trigun, it is Wolfwood who is annoyed that he’s assigned to deal with Vash.  In B3 it is K. K. who always scoffs at her partner Steven.  It sort of makes sense, Steven with his Esmeralda Blood Freeze is cold and calculating in his actions but frequently must get relatively close to his opponent.
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In contrast, K. K. literally shoots electrified bullets and will do support for Steven.  Their tension also likely comes from the fact that K. K. has a ‘typical’ family life with her husband and two sons to protect and take care of.  The opposite is the bachelor life of Steven in his lonely loft apartment with a great kitchen, stylish decor and no actual friends outside of work besides his housekeeper.  However, they are incredibly similar, angry at themselves for enjoying things in a brief instant related to their family or friends which ended poorly.
Wolfwood & Milly = Steven & Klaus
The Trigun anime really makes this a more important aspect of their character than the manga; Wolfwood and Milly work together more than once to help people out of a tight spot, think of the episode ‘Escape from Pain’ or the entire manga battle between Wolfwood and Midvalley when Milly steps in to help Wolfwood out.  However, the partnership between Steven & Klaus is much deeper than Wolfwood & Milly.  Klaus 100% trusts Steven to get all their ducks in a row and to make sure all of the logistics of Libra are working.  At the same time Steven understands the pressure that Klaus puts on himself and tries to lighten his load even if Klaus is oblivious to it.
The two play chess when Steven is first introduced and Klaus listens to Steven’s concerns about having Leo join Libra.
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When Leo is kidnapped, it is Steven who immediately is worried about Klaus.
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I like how these two characters have such great rapport and trust between each other.  Steven comments on how Klaus made a joke, something he’d likely say with his quick wit and dry sense of humor.
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We seen in ‘Bloodline Fever’ that Steven completely trusts that Klaus will arrive on time to seal the Elder Blood Breed that he and K. K. only had to hold for four minutes.  It also shows that K. K. trusts Klaus as she was his escort to meet the Alterworld mafia don and based on her comments, she’s done this many times for Klaus. 
Steven trusts that Klaus can hold out against the one vampire from the missing hospital long enough for Leo to determine his name and result in his sealing.
The fact that the two of them can communicate when all they need is a single quip from Steven in reply to Leo’s answer and demolish an opponent is incredible.
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What I find most refreshing about their relationship is that Steven, the older individual does not mind to be the second in command.  He’s a social enough person with ample skills to network and manage people effectively and does have more experience in the matter.  However, he also knows that he is not the right leader for Libra and finds purpose in his role on the team.  Klaus is too likely to be led on or lied to by others and Steven is streetwise enough to avoid or to use those people for their own benefit.  Klaus is the all to trusting Dad while Steven is the Mom making sure the kids don’t fight at dinner.
I also like the fact that when their main office needed security upgrades, the two of them accidentally invaded, Leo, Zapp (and Zed’s) sacred diner space.
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Nothing like finding your bosses in your home away from home Leo!
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Honestly, I could go on about this for way longer but I’ll stop it here.  Klaus and Steven are great and I love them.
Wolfwood & Wolfwood = Chain & Zapp? & unrequited crush on Steven
The one character who I have a harder time pairing in a sort of Trigun fashion is Chain Sumeragi.  Even though she is female Wolfwood, the character who she has the most dynamics with is Zapp Renfro.  Which would make her a sort of positive Wolfwood traits meets all negative Wolfwood traits plus manwhore.  Zapp smokes, drinks, gambles and fucks as much as possible.  He has the vices that Wolfwood had (save for the sex) and definitely exists to be a foil with Leo, Zed and well, most of the cast.  Yes, she has a crush on Steven, but the man is absolutely out to lunch on the matter.  In the anime, he’s oblivious to the entire protocol to undilute Chain and how it relates to him.  Then again, if someone screamed and threw a chair at you resulting in injury, it would be hard to call that attraction or affection.  Terrifying would be the most accurate word.  I’ve only read the first two volumes of the manga in English and it is clear that she has eyes for him, but again, he gives off the vibes that work comes first.
Since Zapp hangs out with Leo frequently, Chain ends up in their mischief as well, wanting to help them out but seeming too cool for school.  I don’t know if the anime upped the petty fights between Chain and Zapp more, but it def has that enemies to friends (?) dynamic going on.  I’m curious to see how things unfold in the manga as I read it.
 The fact that B3 Back 2 Back has the following covers seems to indicate a stronger Klaus & Steven, Chain & Zapp, and K. K. & Steven dynamics.
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Furthermore, there is only the B3 volume 10 cover where Chain and Steven are next to each other, but Steven’s back is to her.  It seems any potential Chain and Steven relationship is likely not in the cards.  In group covers, Steven and K. K. are next to each other most frequently based on their skills as a two person team.
All in all, I love how elements of Trigun made their way into B3.  It is fun to look at all the angles, from the physical character design, to their personalities and their relationships with each other.  I’ve been a fan of Trigun for over twenty years, so it is hard to say if B3 is better than it - but, I do appreciate the realistic adult relationships, doubts, fears and goals of it more so that Trigun.  The sitcom feel to B3 really feels relaxing and I enjoy the rambling stroll through the city with this quirky cast of characters.
With my disappointment in Stampede, I can at least laugh and cry at how the B3 anime and manga really capture the elements that made Trigun so likable to me in the first place.  And that is all I can ask for - another zany series with lovable characters that you can’t help but root for.
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years
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THE SUN WILL RISE (part 2)
A/N: im so glad you guys liked the first part! i hope i'll be able to live up to your expectations with the rest! also, pls don't ask about my alleged posting schedule... i don't have one lol, im just going with the flow
PAIRING: College!Long-hair!Harry X Reader
WORD COUNT: 5.1k
SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!
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“So how is living with Harry going?” Iris asks, drumming on her text book, avoiding to finish her ready. The two of you are sitting at a picnic table near the library. Originally, you planned to go there, but it’s such a beautiful day. Iris is great at not studying, that’s why you usually prefer to be in the library, because there she can’t really talk. You need all the extra study time, law is hard enough on its own, especially for you since you don’t actually want to study it.
“Um… It’s fine,” you mumble, highlighting a line without looking up, but you notice how you stiffen up at his name.
It’s been three weeks of living together with Harry and three weeks since he made it clear the two of you will never be friends. You allowed yourself one night of self pity before you told yourself that it’s not worth it. If Harry doesn’t want to be your friend, then that’s his loss. You don’t need him, you’re fine with knowing someone doesn’t like you. It happens, right?
Living together has been actually neutral. Both of you have been living according to what you discussed that night. Harry doesn’t queue at the bathroom and he lets you know when he leaves or has arrived back, even if it’s just with a knock on your door. One weekend he slept at someone else’s on Saturday and he left a note for you saying that he would be back late Sunday. 
You constantly hear him when he is at home, you haven’t been able to not listen to him. His footsteps, the way he makes dinner or the soft music he listens to when he is studying. All in all, he is a good roommate. Not messy, or at least not outside his room, he cleans up the kitchen after he cooks, you haven’t found hair in the sink after he shaved and he is quiet, makes sure his music is never too loud. You can’t complain about him.
But he is still as cold as an ice-cube towards you.
“Just fine? Where are the dirty details? How many girls has he brought up?” Iris pushes some more and you give up, dropping your pen to your textbook.
“None. He is a good roommate, we have rules,” you simply say.
“No girls?” she raises her eyebrows. “I always imagined him to be a huge womanizer.”
“Yeah, me too,” you agree. You haven’t really paid any thought to it, but Iris is right, you’ve always thought that Harry is popular amongst women and he uses it to the fullest, but now that you think about it, you never actually saw him with anyone. No making out at parties and you don’t remember him leaving early from a party to hook up with someone.
“Maybe he is just testing the waters. One night, you’ll wake up to moaning,” she chuckles and you frown at the thought.
“I hope not, I’m not interested in hearing that.”
“You never thought about how he is in bed?”
“What?” you cough at the unexpected question.
“Come on, he is obviously good looking, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about having sex with him.”
Of course you did. But you’re not gonna just admit it.
“Umm…” you breathe out nervously and Iris continues.
“The tattoos, the rings, the long hair, I bet he is good in bed, a guy like him just simply can’t suck looking like that.”
“Iris, are you trying to tell me something? You might be having a crush on Harry?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.
“Crush? No,” she chuckles. “I’m just not blind. But actually, I used to think he was into you.”
“Me? What made you think that?” you ask, unable to hide your shock. 
On the outside, it’s not that obvious that Harry doesn’t like you. Your other friends just think the two of you are not that close, they don’t feel the passive hatred you do radiating from Harry. But to think that he was ever into you? That’s unexpected for sure. 
“I remember when we first met him, at that party. He kind of always positioned himself close to you, I caught him staring at you a lot of times and he looked like he was very interested in you, just didn’t know how to approach you. I saw that look on his face a few more times, but not lately though,” she shrugs as you process her words.
Harry? Interested in you? He made it clear he is everything but interested, but could it have been the situation in the past? You remember the first time the two of you met, you found him good looking, but you didn’t see what Iris did, mostly because you were trying not to be a creep and stare at him. And now you find out that all along it was him who was ogling you? That doesn’t add up, not with how he acts towards you these days.
“I don’t think there was anything behind that,” you say and Iris just shrugs before turning back to her book, successfully planting the seed of something unknown into your mind.
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You were expecting a call from your parents, but you still jump when your phone starts ringing one afternoon when you’re in the living room studying. Your dad’s name appears on the screen and you reach for the phone taking a deep breath.
“Hi dad,” you greet him, answering the call. 
“So you are bringing your partner to the wedding?” he says without as much as saying hello. Judging from the voices coming from around him he is working. It took him almost a month to call you, that’s how much it concerns him what’s going on with you.
“Well, yes. I’m bringing someone,” you say. Even though he is not in the room with you physically, you straighten your back as if he could see you and tell you off for having a bad posture. 
“I hope he is not some random hook up, it’s your sister’s wedding, not a fraternity party.”
You grit your teeth at the belittling voice he is using, like you’re just a child. He is treating your sister’s wedding like it’s the queen’s coronation, he wants everything to be perfect down to the smallest bit, including your plus one and he’s afraid you might bring someone who wouldn’t fit into the picture.
Well, he will surely have an opinion about Harry’s tattoos and long hair, so choosing him is kind of your way of rebelling against his expectations.
“He is not a hookup,” you quietly answer. 
“Great, bring him home for Christmas so we can approve of him,” he says, your eyes widening and before you could even protest he ends the call.
Holy shit. Your father is expecting you to bring Harry home for Christmas, but there is no way you can convince Harry to do that, but if you show up without him… You can already see the disappointment in his eyes, your throat is closing up and your eyes are watering even though it’s just the end of September. 
“Hey, I’m leaving–Uh, you alright?” Harry asks from the door and you jump at his voice, you didn’t realize he came out of his room. Breathing heavily you rub your eyes and clear your throat before looking at him.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What were you saying?” you ask, knowing well you look anything but fine and Harry is not stupid. But he just stares back at you with that unreadable look on his face before speaking up again.
“I’m leaving,” he repeats and you nod.
“Okay. Bye,” you say, busying you with your textbooks again, feeling him staring at you from the door for a couple more moments before he turns around and leaves. 
Your lips are wobbling as you hear him open the front door and then shut it. You weren’t expecting him to sit beside you and comfort you, but the way he just left without another word was just beyond. He keeps proving again and again that he really does not want to be around you.
Yet you still feel a kind of pull towards him that you can’t explain. 
You try to focus on studying for a while, but it’s practically useless, you remember nothing from what you’ve been reading all along.
Huffing angrily you pack up everything in the livingroom and decide to just order something to eat and call it a night. But when you walk past Harry’s door you find yourself stopping and playing with the idea to peek inside. You even reach for the doorknob, but then you let your hand fall. You will not violate his privacy like this, no matter how he acts.
You ditch the idea to get food, just take a speedy shower and go to bed only to lie in bed awake, thinking about everything that’s been stressing out. Hours go by and you’re still up when you hear the front door open and close, footsteps echo in the hallway as Harry is walking around, doing his business. You hear him take a quick shower, then a short trip to the kitchen and when you think he is about to lock himself up in his room, it sounds like he has stopped at your door. 
You sit up in your bed, trying to listen to his movements outside, but you hear none, which makes you think he is standing at your door. Just when you’re about to check what’s happening, you hear him walk away, out to the kitchen and then into his room, the door finally closing. He really was standing at your door, but why? Maybe he was just checking something on his phone and happened to stop there on his way as he typed, or he just saw something on the floor.
After the way he just left earlier, there’s no way he wanted to check in on you. He doesn’t care about you.
You lie back and force your eyes closed, slowly drifting to sleep finally.
When you wake up in the morning, you feel like a truck has hit you, your sleep was anything but relaxing last night, woke up several times and you had some weird dreams that left an uneasy feeling in your chest. Rubbing your eyes you head out into the kitchen to make a coffee for yourself, hoping it would give you enough energy to leave for your morning class you’d rather skip, but if your dad ever finds out you skipped class because you were tired, he would disown you right on the spot, so it’s not an option for you. 
Your eyelids feel like deadweight as you keep blinking the sleep away, walking into the kitchen. You’re heading to the espresso machine in the corner you bought last year to fuel your caffeine obsession, but then you notice something on the counter.
There’s a big takeaway cup from your favorite café that’s just one street away, your name written on the side of it in pretty cursive letters. You eye it with suspicion as you walk closer to inspect it, there’s no note, no nothing, and you definitely did not leave it there. Taking the lid off you inhale the scent of your favorite coffee beans, you can tell it’s what you always order whenever you have enough time to pop in for a drink.
You definitely did not buy it, but that only leaves one person who could have gotten it for you.
Walking out into the hallway you see that Harry’s sneakers and keys are gone, so he has already left for school. It’s hard to believe that he went out of his way, woke up early and got you your favorite coffee before leaving to his class, when he’s made it clear you’ll never be friends. 
This is something friends do, which Harry doesn’t want to be.
Pushing the initial shock into the back of your mind you take the coffee and finish it while getting ready for the day, you keep the gesture in mind, surely planning on asking him about it later.
Around lunch time you meet up with Vivian and Tanner at the cafeteria and just as you settle at an empty table Harry walks in, joining the three of you. It’s the first time you see him since yesterday when he obviously saw you having a breakdown following your call from your dad. He sits next to you like everything is going as normal, he mostly engages in the conversation when Tanner asks him, but otherwise, he is silent. 
When Vivian and Tanner get into a bit of a fight on their own, you finally decide to bring up the surprise coffee this morning.
“Hey, um… thanks for the coffee,” you softly say so only he can hear you, though your friends are way too busy arguing with each other. Harry glances at you just for a split second before his gaze returns to his plate and he nods.
“No problem,” he hums.
You have so many more questions for him. Why did he bring it to you? How does he know it’s your favorite? But you don’t want to push your luck and just enjoy this moment of positivity that’s the first one in your relationship with Harry… probably ever. 
This one little gesture showed you that there might be hope, that maybe you and Harry could actually be friendly towards each other. You just had to be very careful.
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Following the coffee incident it seems like the wall Harry has built between you and him has shattered and light is not peeking through the holes. The day after he asked if you needed anything from the grocery store. Whenever he left he didn’t just throw a bye at you, he usually told you when he was coming back. He washed the plate you once left in the sink because you were in a hurry and when you forgot to wash a shirt you wanted to wear he offered to wash it with his load. Tiny little gestures that were slowly but surely melting the ice. 
In return you’ve been trying to be super nice to him as well. Every time you order takeout you always ask him if he wants anything, so far he took up on the offer once, but that’s something too. You’ve returned the coffee favor too, you learned how he likes his, black, no sugar, no milk, and you’ve brewed him a cup a few times when you woke up before him, leaving it on the counter with a post-it note to let him know it’s for him. 
It no longer feels like you’re living with a ghost and he only had to see you cry once to be nicer. You’ll take it as it is.
On the first Friday of October Iris convinces you to go to a party. You’ve been dodging the invitations for a while, saying that you need to study, but she only accepts this excuse a handful of times before she refuses to let you rot at home for another evening. 
So when you’re done with your classes that day, you squeeze in a quick study session before getting ready for the party. Harry arrives home when you walk out of the bathroom in your fluffy bathrobe and your hair up in a towel turban. 
“You’re going to the party tonight?” he asks, walking towards his room, meeting you halfway as you head to yours.
“Yeah. You’re coming too?”
“Yes. Want to Uber there? Tanner said he would pick me up, but I know he wouldn’t drive if it wasn’t for taking me there.”
“Sure,” you nod, your mood already brightened from even the suggestion. 
“Cool. Let me know when you’re ready,” he simply says before disappearing in his room.
Just that interaction alone made you want to go to the party a hundred times more. This could be the end of the “we are not friends” era, when Harry finally ditches the cold act towards you and maybe, just maybe, you might even ask him about Christmas. You still haven’t figured out how you’re gonna work things out with your dad’s request to bring Harry home for Christmas, if he could join you even just for one day you’d be saved. But you know you would have to butter him up for that. 
Even though you live in the same apartment, sharing a car feels way more intimate for some reason. Maybe because he offered to do it, he willingly let you share the ride with him when your living situation was more of a must situation. He needed a place to stay at and you had one. 
You pay for the ride and as always, Harry asks if you want him to Venmo you his part.
“No need,” you shake your head. Something flickered through his face, but you couldn’t catch it before it was gone. 
Walking into the party with Harry by your side might make the two of you appear like friends. Your gaze meets several girl’s envious stares and you’re not even touching Harry in any way. The conversation you had with Iris pops up in your head and you wonder if he has ever hooked up with any of the girls that are throwing deadly glares in your way. It really is unusual that you have never really seen Harry with girls, not a girlfriend or a hookup when he obviously has the looks. 
“Want to ride home together too?” Harry asks, leaning closer to your ear as you make your way inside and a shiver runs down your spine as his hot breath hits the shell of your ear.
“Sure,” you nod, already feeling dizzy and you haven’t even had a drink.
The almost friendly act you’ve been having with Harry has been affecting you way more than you’d like to admit and you’re definitely not used to having him so close to you.
You part ways soon, joining Iris and Vivian while he mingles in the crowd and finds his own little group. It’s just another frat party, nothing special and you nurse the same drink for hours, not quite in the mood to get drunk. Sometime around eleven Vivian disappears with Tanner, as always, so you and Iris decide to watch the intense beerpong game that’s taking place outside. You spot Harry on the other side, standing with some guy you’ve seen him with several times before, a red solo cup in his hand and he has a lazy smile stretched across his face as his dull eyes are following the game. He has definitely had a few drinks already, more than you, that’s for sure.
God, he looks so good, his hair pushed back with a pair of sunglasses, his tattoo covered arm flexing as he gestures around while speaking, he shouldn’t look this good, not when he’s acted like a dick for almost two years. 
“Y/N, hi!” you hear someone behind you, a gentle tap on your shoulder and you realize that you’ve been staring at Harry. Turning around you find Curtis, you had Roman law with him in your first year, you sat next to each other for two semesters and even studied together for the exam. You always joked around that Roman law brings people together the most. 
“Curt, hi! Long time no see!” you grin as you share a quick hug. Curtis is now a year behind you, because he spent last year in France on an exchange program and he couldn’t get all of his credits accepted, so he has to do a bunch of sophomore classes now.
“Ah, you know, I have a lot of catching up to do now that I’m back,” he chuckles.
The two of you engage in a conversation about his year in Paris and what he missed while he was away. You listen to his stories with envy as he tells you the countless times he and his mates lounged on the grass at the Eiffel Tower or when he was drinking fine wine on a balcony that looked over a busy street. He also mentions a guy he met, Henri, and judging from the blush on his cheeks they did more than just eating croissants in bed. 
The beerpong game is now long forgotten, you go back inside with Curt and join him and his friends in the kitchen, they are sophomores so they ask you about classes and professors they can expect for their next year.
Hours pass by and you barely even notice, only snap out of the conversation when Vivian and Tanner appear, looking for you. 
“Everything alright?” you ask, seeing the concern on their faces.
“We have a bit of a situation,” Vivian frowns. “Harry has had one too many drinks.”
“Oh, is he okay?” 
“Fine, just shitfaced,” Tanner sighs. “But we should take him home. Unfortunately, he keeps saying that he needs to leave with you, because he promised.”
Your heart skips a beat. Harry is thinking about you when he is drunk out of his mind, even though it was a simple agreement he could totally ignore, but it seems like he took it way more seriously than you thought.
“Okay, where is he?” you breathe out nodding. 
Your friends lead you out to the backyard and straight to a lounge chair where you see Harry sitting sideways, he is leaning onto his knees, his head hanging low so his hair hides his face like a curtain.
“Hey man, brought you Y/N, can we go now?” Tanner squeezes his shoulder to catch his attention and he lifts his head, his glassy eyes almost immediately finding you. 
“Y/N! There’s my roommate!” his face lights up and he grabs your hand, staring up at you, surprising you with the physical touch. The warmth of his hold is setting your skin on fire, he has never touched you for more than just half a second when he brushed past you for example, so having his hand holding yours is a whole new experience. 
“Tanner told me I have to leave,” he slurs, still holding onto your hand as he looks around. “But I told him I’m only leaving with you.”
“That’s nice of you, Harry,” you smile. “I’m here now, we can go home.”
He nods and attempts to stand up from the lounge chair, but he falls back before making a second attempt which finally succeeds. He curls an arm around your shoulders and puts part of his weight on you, Tanner seeing this moves to be Harry’s support, but you just shake your head.
“It’s fine, I got him,” you say, while pulling out your phone and calling an Uber quickly.
“I’ll pay for this ride, I swear,” Harry groans from beside you when he sees the app open on your phone. 
“No need.”
“Fucking hell, Y/N. You are so annoying!” he huffs, but he is quick to explain himself. “Not in a bad way, I mean,” he adds, his words melting together, his accent now a lot heavier than usually. “I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says and you have a feeling there was more behind his words.
“It’s alright,” you tell him. 
It takes some time and extra help from Tanner to get him out of the party. The Uber arrives just on time and it’s a struggle to put Harry into the car, but you finally manage.
“I’ll take it from here, you guys just enjoy the rest of the night,” you tell Tanner and Vivian.
“Are you sure? You’ll need to get him upstairs too,” Vivian points it out. 
“I can do it. Thanks for the help,” you smile at them before getting in the car too.
“Did I mess up your night?” Harry sighs, his head falling against the back of the seat, eyes barely open as the driver heads to the address you gave him.
“No, I was getting tired anyway,” you tell him.
“But you were with that guy… Are you dating him?” he asks and you give him a confused look, though he probably can’t see it in the dark car and through his blurry vision. 
“What?”
“That guy you started talking to at the… beerpong table. You seemed to be close,” he sighs, closing his eyes fully.
“Harry, please don’t fall asleep, I can’t carry you up the stairs. And are you talking about Curtis?” you poke him, stopping him from falling asleep. It seems like drunk Harry might be your key to find out more about him, so you are not letting this chance go to waste.
“Curtis, whatever his name is. You’re dating him? Thought you needed a boyfriend,” he snorts, finding himself hilarious as you’re just staring at him, shocked at how chatty he is.
“I’m not dating Curtis and I do need a boyfriend, which I have for the wedding. You.”
“So… you need me?” he asks, his green irises appearing glassy, but the way they bore right into your soul leaves you breathless. 
“I do,” you answer quietly with a nod. The passing street lights dance across his face as he stares at you for one, two, three minutes before his eyes fall closed and he stays quiet for the rest of the ride.
When you arrive at your building you shake him awake gently and he groans, but climbs out of the car with just a little bit of help. He leans onto you as you make your way up, one arm over your shoulders as you take each step, one after the other, careful not to trip. When you finally make it to your apartment, Harry leans against the wall while you unlock the door, but you can feel his lazy gaze over you, his eyes traveling up and down your body in such a shameless way like never before.
“Come on, you need to rest,” you puff out some air, pretending like you didn’t notice a thing as you help him walk inside, shutting the door behind you. 
“Bathroom,” he breathes out.
“You need to use the bathroom? Are you feeling sick?” you ask, hoping he won’t puke right in the hallway.
“No… I wanna shower,” he slurs and you nod with a sigh. He really does smell, he could use some soap, but you have no idea if he can do it on his own. 
Reaching the bathroom Harry starts stripping out of his clothes as if you weren’t even there, he pulls his shirt over his head revealing his toned back and you can’t help but stare before you snap out of your trance. 
“O-Okay, you think y-you can manage on your own?” you ask, clearing your throat. Harry just hums and when he starts unbuttoning his pants you decide it’s your sign to leave. 
You close the bathroom door with a hammering heart and stay there in the hallway, listening to him shuffle around until the water starts running. Walking into your room you grab a makeup wipe and start taking your mascara off while listening closely to what’s happening in the bathroom, in case Harry might fall or something, but you hear nothing else but the running water. 
Fifteen minutes go by, then twenty and twenty-five until the water finally stops. Sitting on the edge of your bed you’re waiting for him to come out so you can make sure he made it to his bed, but the door doesn’t open. He’s been in there for almost an hour when you decide it’s been enough. 
Knocking softly on the door you wait for a response, but it’s just dead silence. You knock again and call out his name.
“Harry? Are you alright?”
No response. Chewing on your bottom lip your hand hovers over the doorknob before you decide to go inside. You crack the door open, the warm, misty air that was stuck in there after his shower escapes past you. Stepping inside you find him sitting on the toilet, the lid closed and luckily he managed to at least put on a pair of boxers, but he is leant against the sink next to him, arms crossed over his chest, snoring softly.
You tell yourself now is not the time to ogle his thighs and the tiger tattoo you’ve only caught tiny glimpses of until now, the way his biceps are stretched underneath the inked skin, his hair curling in damp strands. God, he looks so good, even when he is drunk out of his mind.
“Harry, you need to go to bed,” you softly shake him awake, his eyes pop open and he stirs as he looks around, taking in his surroundings. 
“Y/N?” he asks, looking at you through glassy eyes.
“Yeah. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
He just nods and lets you help him up from the toilet before making his way to his bedroom, walking in a zig-zag. You pull the comforter off and help him get comfortable on the mattress before pulling the covers over him.
Returning to the bathroom you grab his clothes from the floor and bring it back to his room. You slip his phone out of his pants’ pocket and put it on the charger on his nightstand. You’re convinced he is fast asleep already, so when his hand grabs your wrist you almost scream at the unexpected move.
“Do you need anything?” you ask in a whisper as your eyes meet his tired gaze, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he answers, ignoring your question and you just know he is not talking about his drunken state and how you had to bring him home like a kid. It’s beyond that.
“Okay,” is all you manage to say. His hold lets go of your wrist and your breath hitches in your throat when his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin underneath your eye. It’s dark in the room, but you catch him staring at your lips, the intensity of the moment making you shudder. 
Is he going to kiss you now? Would you let him? And do you want him to? The way you don’t move back proves that you’d definitely let him, the thought of feeling his lips against yours has your blood rushing through your veins. 
“Y/N, you’re…” he breathes out, as if he is lost in his own thoughts, but you ache for him to finish, to hear what he wanted to say. 
But it never happens. He presses his lips together, swallowing hard before his hand drops from your cheek and just like that, the moment is gone. He is clearly still drunk, his eyes close and you bet a moment later he’s already asleep. 
With a disappointed sigh you walk out of his room and get ready to go to bed.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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oflights · 11 months
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oh this is so exciting! happy pride! You've reblogged a number of pretty bejeweled things today, and I wonder if they could be a prompt, perhaps as a gift, or an item in need of cursebreaking? no stress at all if this doesn't spark the muse!
hi!! thank you for this prompt, i kind of loved it. i chose to use this as a reference point and honestly had a lot of fun with it!
as i said yesterday, this wound up being thematically appropriate for a certain blond someone's birthday, which is why it's posting now!! i'm still working on other prompts, and feel free to keep sending some if you'd like!
this is about ~1100 words (sooo close to under 1k 😭) and features curse-breaking partners harry and draco, very jealous harry, and cheesy gemstone/eye comparisons. 💎🎈
“He bought them at auction,” Draco says in a hushed sort of voice, beaming down at the dangly gold earrings Harry is frantically casting on. “I can’t even imagine the price—not that that matters, of course, it would be thoughtful either way, but look—those are genuine pearls, Harry. Byzantine! Sixth century!”
“Sure,” Harry says through gritted teeth, not pausing in his casting. His hand is starting to cramp a little, so he drops his wand and takes a breath to gather his magic up in his spread fingers, ignoring Draco rolling his eyes and muttering something about showoffs. “Too bad they’re cursed.”
“They’re not cursed!”
“They’re definitely cursed,” Harry says, flexing his fingers over the earrings nestled in their ornate wooden box. He could cast the magic he’s working over them in his sleep—the perks of being a rather competent Curse-Breaker—and it’s no trouble at all to cast a few more times, just to be sure. More than sure. He’s absolutely certain that there’s something magically wrong with these earrings, and he’ll prove it. “And they’re ugly, beside.”
“They’re not—you have no taste.”
“They wouldn’t suit you at all, either; you’ve only got the one ear pierced,” Harry says, glancing up at the tiny diamond cuff glinting over Draco’s cartilage and the even tinier moonstone stud in his lobe, easily overlooked unless you make a habit of looking. Harry thinks he could point them out in the dark, blindfolded and spun around, but that’s not anyone’s business but his own. “Are you sure they were for you?”
“Of course they’re for me,” Draco huffs, shaking his head. “The box had my name on it, and Edmund left a note that he’d been called away but he wanted to make sure I got my present on my actual birthday instead of waiting for the party on Saturday—” The party that Harry had planned with absolutely minimal help from Edmund, who he thinks has a low chance of actually showing up, the bastard. “And, as I already told you, there are pearls.”
Harry just glares down at the stupid earrings, shaking his head.
Draco sighs. “Pearls are my birthstone.”
“Since when?”
“Since I was born in June, you nitwit.”
“They don’t even look like pearls,” Harry says, trying not to swear out loud. He’d gotten Draco a moonstone and diamond cuff so he could switch out his piercings. He’d never even considered birthstones, only that little stud that always catches his eye, and the shimmery moonstones on Draco’s watch; he’d learned about adularescence and thought about what light looked like reflected in Draco’s eyes.
At least, Harry knows, his gift is actually wearable. He can’t imagine Draco in these earrings, dangling there as he chats away with their clients and tosses his head back in laughter at Harry’s scant, interjected jokes. They’d agreed early on in their Curse-Breaking partnership that Draco was more of the natural at client relations, but Harry never feels as good as he does when he can join in and make Draco laugh. And the client, of course. That’s fine too.
He wonders if Edmund ever makes Draco laugh like that, when he’s not Portkeying off to another auction, standing Draco up for dinner with his parents, or gifting him absurd, assuredly cursed earrings. Certainly not, Harry thinks.
“I assure you that there are pearls,” Draco says, reaching out for the box. Harry smacks his hands down over it, shaking his head.
“No way, you know the rules. No touching, not until I’m sure there are no curses,” Harry says. “And I’m sure there are, so—”
“That rule is for both of us,” Draco says, swatting at Harry’s hands, laughing a little as Harry swats him back, their hands fluttering against each other over the top of box.
Harry traps both of Draco’s hands in his for a moment, grinning triumphantly, then yelps as Draco grips his hands back and slams them down on the box.
“You can’t keep me away from my birthday present,” Draco says firmly.
Before Harry can argue—before he can say he’s just protecting Draco, he’s just showing him who Edmund really is, and he could show him so much more, he could prove that Edmund is a dunce who has no idea what he has in Draco, who takes him for granted and thinks Draco would wear yellow gold and pearls and garnets and dangly, ugly, obnoxious, definitely cursed earrings in a pair when he only has one ear pierced—before any of that can come out, the door to their office bursts open to reveal a panting, red-faced Edmund, practically doubled over.
“Edmund?” Draco says, standing up from where he’s been perched on Harry’s desk and whipping his hands back.
Edmund wheezes at him, slowly straightening, his eyes widening as he holds up a very similarly-shaped wrapped box in one hand. “Wrong—present—”
“What?” Draco squawks as Harry grins broadly, triumphant.
“Don’t—open—oh—” Edmund continues, eyes going impossibly wider as he stares at the box still under Harry’s hands. “Don’t—touch—”
It’s Harry’s turn to squawk, “What?!” and whip his hands away, just as Edmund chokes out, “Cursed.”
Harry’s grin drops, staring down at the box—which is now devoid of earrings. He realizes this at the same time that Draco does, at the same time he feels a suddenly pinch in his left earlobe, jumping in his seat and yelping, “Ouch!” at the same time Draco’s hands fly up to his own ear.
He feels a weight near his cheek and gapes, wide-eyed, as he sees one of the earrings is now in Draco’s unpierced left earlobe. The other, he realizes as he cups his hand over the side of his face, is in his ear.
Harry and Draco stare at each, something charged and heated building up in the air between them, tingling where the earring is and spreading out to the tips of Harry’s fingers.
“Right,” Draco says as the moment builds, his eyes never leaving Harry’s—wide, bright, beaming with something that would be adularescence if his eyes were the moonstones they resemble. “What kind of curse, exactly?”
The earrings jingle, the magic tingles, and suddenly Draco drops into Harry’s lap, Harry’s arms going around him with little choice, their breaths quickening and a flush spreading across both their faces, as Draco’s horrible boyfriend watches.
“Erm,” Edmund says. “Right. That is to say, ah—well, you see, it might not be a curse so much as a—a bond, perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Draco says, pants out really, staring down at Harry, who stares back, until they can’t stare any longer because they’re kissing instead.     
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hellcheer-heaven · 1 year
Text
Budding - 90s Pregnant Hellcheer
Beard Eddie photo by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Click here for the post Thanks for giving me the okay for using your photo edit.
Thank you @a-strange-inkling for proofreading the beginning stages of this short fic. Also please check out both creators listed here.
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Waking up early in the morning came naturally to Eddie, it was pretty much a part of himself like the curly locks on his head; and currently the dark hairs sprouting from his face. He looked over at the sleeping woman, hair draped along her shoulders and face so at peace. Chrissy has been getting some much needed rest lately for the sake of her health and for the developing little one in her womb. There was a lovely sort of glow that surrounded her no matter where she went. Even on the days when she felt and proclaimed that she looked like a terrible mess, Eddie reassured her that nothing would dull her sparkle.
It was another quiet, lazy Saturday in their neighborhood. Most of their neighbors were still asleep, say for a few early birds that wanted to get their steps in before breakfast. Eddie occupied himself with whisking raw eggs and adding just a bit of milk to give it that fluffy texture that Chrissy liked. He practically tore open the entire package of bacon, nearly loosing a few stragglers, but thankfully his lightening fast reflexes caught the flying pork. The coffee maker bubbled as he placed the large glass container beneath the dispenser. Before he could turn on the stove, Chrissy’s sudden gasp caused him to rush to the room.
“PleasebeokayPleasebeokayPleasebeokay!” His mind begged. Eddie nearly lost his balance as he ran down the carpeted hallway before catching himself, firmly planting his feet onto the ground. “Chrissy? Baby? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the emergency room?!”
Chrissy’s back faced him, her blue eyes gazing into the mirror with quite the wide eyed stare. “Eddie… I…”
Eddie was afraid something absolutely terrible must have happened, but he had to take a deep breath. “Y-Yes? What is it?”
She slowly turned around, something was quite different with her. Aside from her bump, there was also the newly developed pair of breasts protruding out from Eddie’s nice dress shirt.
She kept herself covered, feeling incredibly embarrassed at how much skin was showing, “Eddie my boobs got bigger!”
He gulped, his mind heavily chastising him for the thoughts that were appearing. He had to think of something, anything to say to his beloved wife.
His face felt so hot and red, “Y-Yeah… yeah they did.”
It’s not like they haven’t seen each other semi to fully nude before. In her current state, this was vastly different than what she or he were used to. They both stared, flabbergasted at the single or possible double cup size increase.
Eddie hurried to readjust his vision, “How do you feel Chrissy?”
Her fingers gently felt along her budding skin, “I feel weird.”
“Do you have to go to the hospital?”
She gave him a reassuring smile, it gave him some relief of his anxiety. “No I’m fine. I just… never really thought they would grow that much.” She faced her reflection, shrugging off the shirt to get a closer look. “It’s just, I look so different.”
Eddie placed a loving hand to her shoulder, she held onto it sweetly. He pecked the top of her head, “Good different or bad different?”
She sighed, “I don’t know. I just… never really imagined that I would actually get big breasts.” Chrissy winced slightly when she held up the tender bundles.
They felt and appeared so oddly shaped to her. Then again having her abdomen sticking out from her small frame was still so unusual to see. Chrissy was always so used to having the body that she had always had: Petite with muscle and a bit of body fat. Nothing out of the ordinary for some people, but the things that her mother said did a number on her self esteem, self image, and self worth. Always making her believe that she was ugly and unattractive in her childhood and especially during adolescence.
Fat pig, string bean, baby face, rabbit teeth, body of a child, too quiet, not lady like, and so much more.
Even when her body began to naturally change during puberty and now during pregnancy, her mother still made it her mission to make her life hell. It’s no wonder Chrissy and her darling husband found a house of their own some towns away from Hawkins.
Eddie moved a lock of her hair behind her ear, “Do they hurt?”
“A little bit.”
He nuzzled into her neck, his voice filled with concern, “Only a little?”
She carefully placed them back down, really considering how she truly felt, “Well, more than a little. They feel sensitive and sore. It’s like I’m going through puberty again, but now I have these and my stomach is…”
Eddie cradled her pretty belly, his warm palms tracing her lovely stretch marks. “You look beautiful Chrissy.”
The lump in her throat started to grow even more, “But I feel like a fat cow.” She shut her eyes tightly, “And I look like one too!”
Eddie just wanted to hug her as tightly as he could, but all he could do was gently wrap his arms around her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You’re beautiful Chrissy, no matter what your brain tries to tell you. You’re the most courageous, amazing, and beautiful woman in the whole world.”
She swiped her teary eyes with the backs of her hands, “I wish I could believe that Eddie!”
Eddie turned her around and pecked her face, sweetly and generously giving her as many pecks he could give her until the tiniest smile pulled at her cotton candy colored lips. She softly cooed his name, her tears forming from self loathing to affectionate. She couldn’t prevent her giggles from tumbling out, the scruff tickling her neck as he bent down. Chrissy nibbled her lower lip, watching the way his bubblegum pink mouth planted more and more upon her body. Slowly and earnestly along her breasts, looking up to gauge her reaction: Chrissy was all smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.
She ran her fingers through his curls, “Eddie, that feels really nice. It kinda tickles a little.”
He closed his eyes, his hands caressing the sides of her body as his lips followed the shape of her torso. Wanting to follow every stretch mark with his fingers and tongue, but she was vulnerable and that wouldn’t be fair to her. Instead he placed the side of his face along her bump, breathing lightly as the warm flesh heated his cheek. Eddie looked up and still could see the sunshine smile of his Spring Goddess, her flower bed and fruits growing healthily.
Chrissy cradled his sweet, hairy face, rubbing the apples of his cheeks with her thumbs. His lips proceeded to return back up until their mouths collided, that’s when he heard it again: Laughter. Her laughter was the most wonderful melody that he could ever hear. No amount of string bending, shredding, or tapping would ever compare. They walked over to the bed, and he helped her onto her back, making sure that her pillows were aligned the way they were supposed to be for both support and comfort.
Chrissy curled her pointer finger, wanting a little more love; boy did he deliver. Kisses, kisses, and more kisses. She then began to whimper, the sensitive sensation returning to her breasts once more. Eddie was careful to not put any kind of weight on her, laying next to her and kissing her hand.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers upon the mattress to find her answer. What did the moms back in Hawkins suggest during this time? A gentle massage with massage oil was the way to go according to them. He smiled, soon returning with a jar of oil that Mrs. Sinclair, Wheeler, Byers, and Henderson swore by. Thank god for their wisdom and experience, because the last person Chrissy would ever turn to regarding motherhood was her own mom.
They sat there for a moment, the two of them looking back and forth at the jar and her chest.
He gulped nervously, “So… um…”
“I guess you can start,” Chrissy mentioned, still a bit weirded out as well; honestly that makes two of them.
He swallowed, “Y-Yeah. Yup, I’m gonna massage your ti- breasts.” He sighed slowly through his nostrils, “Holy shit her tits are huge. So fucking soft and squishy. Our baby is so lucky.”
She nodded, gulping down as well, “Yeah, you’re gonna touch them.” She proceeded to open the dress shirt, blushing a bit at the sight. “God I feel like a cow! Jesus my tits look like someone sewed cantaloupes in me. Please don’t turn into watermelons! Please!”
Eddie broke the silence, it was probably the stupidest thing he’s said in a while, but he really needed to know. “So I’m not going to squeeze all of your milk out, right?”
Chrissy held his hand, showing him a wonderful grin and a warm chuckle, “No Eddie, my milk isn’t going to come out.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
She held his worried face, “You won’t hurt me, you never have.”
Eddie grinned, moving his face to kiss her palm before warming up the oil in his hands. He could feel the more immature part of his brain telling him to do things to her chest. The rest of his mind continued to scold him before locking up that area. With all distractions put aside, he could then focus on her needs. His tattooed hands and fingers slowly touched the heaping bundles of flesh, following the shape in precise circles. Starting with both and then transitioning to each one individually with his talented hands. Chrissy observed how those inked appendages motioned along her breasts, gazing through her lashes and following the way he very gently sculpted her.
She giggled, “Eddie, I really like that. Ooh, you’re so gentle. I love how sweet you are.”
He gave her a playful wink, “Sweet as honey baby girl.” He stopped momentarily when she softly gasped, his worrying thoughts returning in a flash, “Are you okay?”
“Mmhm, that just felt really, really good.”
His eyes looked between her face and body, “Are you gonna… you know?”
Her brows rose up, nodding slowly and waiting patiently for him to continue. She knew the word, but still wanted to hear it from him, “Am I going to what?”
His fingers started to slowly release her, his bashful smile evidently displayed, “Squirt milk?”
Close enough.
He couldn’t help but hide his face when she started to laugh, very loudly actually. When her giggle fit was over, Chrissy moved his hands aside and pecked the thorn surrounded rose tattoo on the back of one hand.
She placed a curly lock behind his ear, “I’m sorry Eddie, that was just really funny. It’s lactate, baby. That’s the word you’re looking for.” Chrissy held up her bosoms, giving them a gentle squeeze, “And no the doctor said it’ll be a while before that happens. Actually they could end up getting larger.”
“Really?” He sounded a little hopeful, something that Chrissy slyly smirked at to which Eddie changed his tone. “I mean… um… that sucks.”
“Pun intended Eddie?”
He gave her a cute pout before smirking himself, “Geez Chrissy, you’re really putting me between a rock and a hard place.”
Chrissy snickered, “Well I’m sure resting your head on something soft might ease the tension.”
Was she being serious or just joking? Either way he was pleased knowing that she was happy, comfortable, and safe. They hardly said anything for the remainder of the morning as he commenced with massaging her. Nothing much had to be said, their smiles were enough. The gentle touches were enough. Their kisses were enough.
They were enough.
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reidslovely · 2 years
Text
It’s Nice to Have a Friend: Something Gave You the Nerve (Chapter Two)
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Author’s Notes: Surprise! I’m a liar and am posting this fic super early, just because I have a load of muse right now and finished it 30 minutes ago. I scheduled it to post for Saturday buuut I’m eager to hear what y’all think. Also! I’ve decided this fic is going to be a five part series! Just because I like to drag things out and make people wait. She’s a long gal, at around 4k so hang in there. There are a few vague descriptions of the reader but nothing that breaks the imagination. 
Part One Here
Pairings: TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader
CW: Friends to eventual lovers, a lot angsty in the middle and end but it is what has to happen for them to be happy, mentions of Uncle Ben’s death, vague mention of Peter having a hot headed tendency, depression, a nightmare that includes death but nothing to descriptive. I’m sure I’m missing something. 
__________________
High School, Junior Year.
Peter was right. Peter was always right, that is what (Y/N) learned in the three years they had been friends. Because that night in the tent sat everything into place, they were still friends. Freshman year they made sure all their classes matched up, even down to the extra circulars, the same followed in sophomore year. But now as juniors, their class work got a bit heavier and they were put in different classes so seeing each other during school was a bit harder.
“Smile,” Peter says, quickly lifting his camera up, snapping a quick photo of (Y/N) as they sat in the courtyard. “Yikes, that one is going in the trash.” 
(Y/N) threw a napkin at him in response to his taunt, putting her head down wanting to make herself more presentable. Playing it off as casual as she could, surely he didn’t think she was absolutely atrocious. 
“Well you need to be better at giving heads up.” 
Peter’s face softened as he sat across from her stuffing his camera in his bag. “I was only joking. You always look..” Say it. Say it, please. “..nice” He smiles. (Y/N) lets air out of her nose, and thanked him before looking back down at her chemistry book. 
Peter’s ‘yeah’ came off as distant and quiet, (Y/N) snapped her head up and followed his stare across the courtyard. She should have known who he was staring at, Gwen Stacy. (Y/N) fought off the sinking feeling that grew in her stomach, she looked back at him smiling through what felt like being gutted. “You should ask her to spring formal.” 
“No..no. She’d never say yes.”
“She would be stupid not too.” (Y/N) remarked, looking back at her book. “She’s first in our class here..she should know a good date when she sees it.” 
“Okay..okay yeah.” Peter cleared his throat as he stood and started to walk toward her. 
Stupid, stupid, keep your mouth shut. Idiot. 
She couldn’t bear to watch it happen, so she turned back to her book and wrote her notes. It wasn’t long before she heard the scruff of his sneakers against the concrete. (Y/N) brought her eyes up to meet him as he sat down. 
“So?” She said, hoping the strain in her voice wasn’t noticeable. 
“I..I chickened out. I couldn’t do it..I think, I think I told her I liked her headband and just walked away.” He laughs at himself putting his head on his folded arms. There he was, her Peter. Her shy, idiotic, socially inept Peter; who made her heart flutter with the blush on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry Pete..maybe tomorrow.”
“No, it fine. I have a even better date. You.” He smiled, giving her a wink. (Y/N)’s heart picked up. “D-date?” She asked. Peter was quick- too quick- to save his ass. 
“Well as friends of course.”
Right. 
Guilt filled the pits of their stomachs, if only one could be brave and tell the other what they really felt. (Y/N) smiled at him playfully, kicking him under the table as the bell rang. 
“Walk me home?” 
“Always.”
In the coming weeks (Y/N) threw herself into getting the perfect dress and perfecting everything. She had decided that this night was the perfect time to tell Peter how she felt, it was better late than never. All she could do is hope nothing would change; but at least he would know. But in the back of her mind lingered what she thought to be the truth; she would never be Gwen Stacy.
“Momma it is nothing like that!” (Y/N) laughed dusting the makeup brush under her eyes collecting any fall out from her eyeshadow. Bella tousled her daughter’s hair around smiling at her in the mirror. 
“He invited you to the dance for a reason.” 
“It’s just because he got too nervous to ask the one girl he wanted to. I’m a safe option.” She said, the belief bitter on her tongue. “May and I see the way he looks at you. That boy is in love with you even if he doesn’t know it.”
Hope filled (Y/N) to the brim, she looked at her mom with glossy eyes before clearing her throat, “Safe option.” 
Unknowingly, in the townhouse over Peter stood in his bedroom looking in the mirror running his hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make it greasy stop.” May tsked as she moved through the mess of his room. Peter laughed, dropping his hand and soothing out his tie. 
A photo caught his eye; it was the one from the courtyard. Her doe-eyes stared up at him in shock, the beginning of a smile forming on her features. Never would he throw a photo of her away, in fact as soon as he got to his room that afternoon he pinned it to his crookboard. Where other photos of her and him, and other things stayed. She was his girl, sadly not in the way he wished; but there was Gwen too. Who in the last few days noticed him more. The attention felt good, and his feelings for her grew. It was all so messy.
“Do you think she’ll think I’m handsome?” 
He laughs looking at his aunt, his thick brows nearly meeting as he furrows them. “Something tells me she will.” May laughs flattening out his shirt collar before heading downstairs. “Well look at that handsome man, you almost look like a person.” Ben laughs as Peter and May walk out the front door. Peter laughs hugging his uncle, squeezing his shoulder. “May heard that she was wearing a green dress and insisted I find a tie to matc-” 
“It looks nice.” (Y/N)’s voice sounds from the stoop of her house. Peter turned his head so fast the world around him stood still. Before him stood something that nearly left him breathless. 
“Is it too much?” 
Light green velvet wrapped around her silhouette, a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. (Y/N) smiled at him, alternating the weight on her feet, and Peter shook his head so fast that anyone in a twenty mile radius could hear his brain rattle. 
“No, no. You look beautiful.” 
He said it, he said what she had been dying to hear for weeks,  months, for years even. 
“Okay okay get together we need photos!” May laughs. 
(Y/N) laughed, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as Peter took her hand helping her down the steps. He smiled wrapping his arm around her shoulder and bringing her in close, (Y/N) placed her hand on his chest looking at the camera. The only thing catching the alternating glances the two traded was the camera, and the adults. 
(Y/N) stood off to the side of the gym sipping her punch as she searched the crowd for Peter, when out of the corner of her eye she saw it. Peter and Gwen deep in conversation, a smile spread across her features as she stared up at him. Her hand squeezing his arm, as a hand came to cover the almost snort-like laugh she let out. 
‘He probably told her the dress brought out the blue in her eyes. Gross..
How could anyone hate her? She was gorgeous, and funny- smart. God, she was smart. (Y/N) sat the plastic cup on the bleachers before disappearing to the bathroom feeling tears building in her eyes. She never thought girls actually did this, this is what happened to girls in the movies not in real life. As she leaned against the bathroom door a stall door opened causing (Y/N) and the other girl to jump. 
“Oh Missy, god you scared me I thought..I was alone.” (Y/N) laughs patting at her cheeks, her mascara smearing. 
“Sorry, I was in here hiding from Flash. He tore my dress and then ridiculed me after.” Missy says, showing (Y/N) the tear in the sleeve of her dress. (Y/N) shrugged her shawl off wrapping it around Missy’s shoulders. Missy smiled gratefully before noticing the tear stains on (Y/N)’s cheeks.
“Peter’s an oblivious idiot.” Missy states bluntly, (Y/N) looking back at her. “Trust me I’ve had a crush on him for years, you have to tell him.”
(Y/N) shook her head, fixing Missy’s hair laughing. “It’s okay he’s into Gwen, she's much more his type.” (Y/N) laughed before turning to the mirror fixing her makeup. “Come on, you're dancing with me.” 
The two girls laughed while walking back out to the gym heading to the floor where their peers were dancing, for once no one was paying any real attention to one another. Songs gradually got slower, until the inevitable slow song started to play. (Y/N) and Missy began to walk off as couples paired up, Peter stepped in front of them.
 “I’m stealing my date back, Kallenback” 
Missy laughed, her cheeks flushing a dark red before stepping away. Peter took (Y/N)’s hand leading her back in, his hands resting on her sides as she wrapped her arms around him. She looked up at him with blown pupils, her eyes sore from crying. In a friendly gesture Peter pressed his nose to her forehead swaying with her. 
“Are you humming the song?” She laughed, breaking their silence. 
“You’re the one who plays the twilight soundtracks all the time.” (Y/N) let out a breathy laugh looking at their feet. “What are you doing tomorrow?” She asks. It was now or never, Gwen Stacy be damned. 
Peter thought for a moment before tilting his head to the side. “I am going to Oscorp..there’s an internship thing.” It was only a half lie. He was going to Oscorp, and there was an internship walkthrough happening. (Y/N) nodded in response, then she remembered where Gwen had gotten a paid internship at. Automatically, she had assumed that the two were connected. “Why?” Peter asked, pulling the girl from her jealous thoughts, when she looked at him she shook her head. 
“Nevermind, it was a dinner thing my mom wanted you to come to but it’s no big deal.”
He didn’t push, he left it at that. He pressed his nose back to her forehead, his hands moving to somewhat cradle her. 
That was the last normal night they had. 
Weeks passed in radio silence between the two
When Peter’s Uncle Ben died Peter was, as Aunt May called it, “lost in the dark.” He shut everyone out, he didn’t act like himself. (Y/N) tried to be there for him, he didn’t want her there. He shut her out literally and figuratively. May would let her in, take whatever (Y/N) had brought for Peter. At first she tried to get through to him, sitting outside his bedroom door for hours, waiting for him to open it and let her in. She just wanted to see him, but Peter could be hot headed. It was something she learned rather fast after Ben’s death. The first time she sat outside his door was following the funeral, he sat pent up in his room kicking and screaming. (Y/N) sat on the other side of the door silently begging he would just crack it open so she could see him.
He had been acting differently prior to Ben’s death, and right as she was about to ask him about it. He shut her out. He would turn the tables on Flash, beating up on him back; he shattered the backboard of the basketball hoop. Of course, Flash deserved it but it was so unlike Peter. 
It wasn’t just at home he shut her out, but he didn’t answer her calls, he even avoided her in school hallways. It had now effectively been three months since they had fully talked; she missed him but if this was his process there was nothing to do. While he had fully pushed her out of his life, there was one person he didn’t shun-
“Gwen Stacy.” 
“Here!” The chipper voice sounded as (Y/N) slid into the desk behind her ex-best friend's girlfriend in English. Of course it would be just her luck that it would be the last open seat. 
“Ms. (Y/L), you’re trady.” 
“I was in the guidance office, Mrs. Williams said she’ll excuse it.” 
Peter’s head had popped up from the other side of the class as (Y/N) had responded. ‘Guidance? What was wrong? She looked okay..’ He thought to himself, he took in her appearance. He was always watching her. From a far at least, he watched her and Missy go to the arcade for her birthday last month. It was something they used to do every afternoon on her birthday. He wondered if she still gave her tickets away to the kids inside. He sat across the street on top of the shop's building dressed as his alter ego. There was not a single day that went by that he wasn’t filled with regret for pushing her out of his life. It was to keep her safe, at first safe from him and then gradually safe from others, the enemies he’d make. He tried to do the same to Gwen, but she was persistent, and stubborn. 
On the other side of the class Gwen turned to (Y/N) smiling. “I guess we’re partners.” 
“Cool!” (Y/N) nodded, taking the packet from her and starting to work on it herself. “You’re uh..Peter’s friend right?” 
“We uh- used to be yeah. We haven’t seen each other in a while.” 
Gwen frowned, she hadn’t meant to stir up any bad feelings. “He still talks about you..!” 
(Y/N) meant no ill will towards Gwen but right now she wanted for her to just shut up, and work on the packet. This isn’t what she wanted to talk about right now. Gwen was sweet, and she was trying her best.
“He told me about this story of like the big snow storm from eighth grade and he was skating and he went down a ramp and bloodied his nose. He says you were one of the best nurses he’d ever had.”
 Gwen laughs, and she laughs like it’s her memory that she made with him. (Y/N) smiles sadly at the thought, though it makes her fill with a weird type of jealousy. “Yeah.”
“He also says you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met.” Gwen looks at Peter working with Flash, who just finished cracking a joke about Peter’s new muscles. Peter looks over at the two girls, his girls. Smiling at Gwen but hoping that (Y/N) would look at him as well. 
“Uh, I'm having a birthday party next week. I'm turning 18.” Gwen writes down her address at the top of a piece for notebook paper. “You should come. Peter will be there. I’d like to get to know you more.” 
(Y/N) nodded at Gwen as she took the slip of paper from her, tucking it away in her notebook. The two girls worked together in an awkward silence for the rest of class, only talking over questions when needed. Once the bell rang (Y/N) started shoving her stuff into her bag, trying to get out before Peter made his way over. 
“(Y/N), hey.”
That was the first word to her in the static like silence: hey?
She looked up at him smiling, she couldn’t help it; it was all muscle memory. Gwen stood next to him, her bag on her shoulder. 
“Hey Parker, what’s up?” 
Peter looked back at Gwen who smiled, “I’m gonna head home I have the..thing with my mom.” Gwen lied, as she kissed Peter’s cheek; whispering in his ear. “Fix this.” With that Gwen Stacy disappeared out of the classroom. (Y/N) took the opportunity as his back was turned to use the other door of the class room to leave. 
“(Y/N), wait!” Peter rushed out of the class after her, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Even through the muscles, and superhero persona Peter Parker was still a klutz at heart. He hadn’t remembered his friend being so fast. But, he guessed that’s what happened when you abandoned the one person you swore you would never. 
“You got some speed on you,” He laughed, stepping in front of her. “Did you join the track team?”
“Nope, I just got used to walking home by myself.” Ouch. 
He still walked her home sometimes, she just didn’t know it was him. Had she looked up on the building ledges on her walks home she would have seen him, dressed as Spiderman, but nonetheless it was him. If something ever happened to her and he wasn’t there to intervene when he knew he could have he couldn’t live with himself. When he first started avoiding her he was prone to nightmares that took him back to Ben’s death, and the deeper he got into Spiderman duties the worse the nightmares got. One nightmare should have brought him back to her, but instead it made him keep his distance.
His suit was soaked with her blood, the warm liquid seeping through and covering his skin. Her body was light and weightless as he cradled her, his head hid in her hair as he screamed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- I let you down.” He moved her hair out of her face. His girl, his (Y/N). 
It had shook him, the thought that if she stuck around she could end up dead because of who he was. He looked at her now, in the sunshine as they stepped out of the doors of Midtown High. She still looked the same for the most part, her hair a little longer and her face a bit fuller. But she was still so beautiful, and soft. God, he missed her. 
Gwen, he shouldn’t be thinking about another girl like this when he has Gwen. 
Finally he spoke. “(Y/N)..look I’m sorry, I can explain.” She turned to look at him as they walked side by side up the street. If telling her is what would get her back then he’d tell her everything, everything he couldn’t tell Gwen or May. Gwen knew but Gwen never wanted to know the dark details, the things that ate him alive after he appeared at her window. 
“Can you Peter? Cause I’ve been waiting for an explanation for three months!” 
She yells as they come to a stop outside their houses, he saw the angry tears build up in her eyes. Muscle memory took over as he reached out to wipe them away, she moved her head away from his hands wiping her own tears. 
“I don’t even know if I want it anymore. To know why the only person who ever claimed to care just left.” She took a breath, trying to calm herself down. Her anger had been pent up, and she knew it came from a bad place. “I know his death was hard on you. But I was there everyday outside of your door for weeks and you just gave me the cold shoulder. All I wanted to do was help you Peter, and you picked Gwen over me. And I get it, I can’t even hate her! I see how she cares about you, the same way I did..and that’s all that matters to me. Is that you’re being taken care of cause you can’t do it yourself.”
“The same way I did” Peter repeats back in his head. 
Like dominos, everything fell into place. For the first time in four years Peter knew what that bind was that held them so tight. It was love, more than friendship love; more than I’ll be there when you need love. It was real, unconditional, and raw love. That he just threw away. 
“So no. No, I don’t care how good your explanation is. I don't need it or want it.” 
Peter looked at her, tears glistened on her cheeks. All he wanted was to reach out and hold her, to cry with her. But all he could bring his body to do was nod and let her go. He stood on the sidewalk watching her disappear inside a house he didn’t even know he would recognize anymore.
“She hates me.”
 Peter says aloud, sensing May standing on the stoop of the house. He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his undershirt. “I’ve been in..I’ve been in love with her since I was 14 years old and she hates me.” He says his anger growing in his chest, he wants to rip himself up from the inside out. He picked the wrong girl, had he just held out longer. Had he just listened to her begging, and opened that door, this wouldn’t have happened. 
May watches her nephew, struggling to find the words to comfort him. She puts her hand on his shoulder squeezing, before following him inside. Peter walks down the hallway, everything feeling hazy. His eyes getting heavy from the crying, he sighs stopping in his tracks looking at the familiar photo tucked into the corner of the mirror. Suddenly he wishes one of his powers was time travel; he’d do anything to go back to the night of the formal. To wrap his arms around (Y/N) and hold her close as they danced, he’d tell her every feeling he’d ever felt for her. As he drug his feet up the stairs and into his room he knew what he had to do, whether she wanted his explanation or not.
_____________________________________
Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added, or taken off!! Much love and I hope you enjoyed <3
@helloheyhihowdyheya @thatsassyhufflepuff @andrews-lovr​ @theonlymaddie
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toomuchracket · 10 months
Note
D word Matty is life. What’s your favourite scenario to imagine him in? At the minute, I’m quite the fan of post-coital cigarettes in bed. Or maybe cigarette, singular, because he scolds you whenever you try to smoke.
oh i also like this one!! i do think it would be cigarette, singular, but mostly just because i think it's sexier to share one with your lover post-sex lol - i also think that there was definitely a funny moment between you and matty fairly early in your friendship where he found out you smoked and was like "fuck yeah i can use this as a means of flirting" (i.e. convincing you to go for cosy little cig breaks with him, lighting yours for you, etc). thinking him leaving the office for a cig and getting a fright because you're already outside with yours like "oh hi" and he didn't expect it, or something. anyway! yes, being tangled up together in sheets just taking drags of a cig and talking and kissing sounds so dreamy. i think conversations in bed is one of my favourite d word scenarios, actually; convinced matty's someone who'll talk and dream out loud and speculate until either you or he falls asleep, and i think it's a lot of planning getaways and talking about the future and gossiping. every holiday he and you have gone on has literally been planned and booked from bed lmao.
i also quite enjoy thinking about him in relation to outfit planning for events you go to together, awards shows and whatnot, like even before you're dating; you're stressed as fuck because you've never been to one, and you're representing dh, and patti's like "it's fine don't worry i'll pull some options for you. i'm finalising matty's outfit on saturday so come over and we'll pick something out". so you go, and you and matty are both a bit !!!! about the fact you're about to see each other in fancy outfits but you get on with trying things on and deciding. you're in one room, matty's in the other, patti's flitting between, and she and you decide no for the first couple of options. you try the last one on yourself, a simple long black cowl neckline dress, and you're like "oh this is it", but you reckon you should get her opinion; you knock on the door of the other room like "can i come in?", and step in when you hear a yes. as soon as he sees you, matty's jaw drops, and you can't stop yourself from smiling adoringly at the sight of him all suited; patti's like "oh absolutely you both look amazing we're going with these options", and she makes the two of you stand together so she can take a pic for some styling reason or whatever. and matty turns to you and he's like "that dress is stunning. you're stunning. i'm looking forward to seeing you in it for real next week", and you're squeaking out a "thanks" trying not to swoon lmao. yeah, i vibe with it <3
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This saturday 1-3pm gmt +1 Anna Christine sands - more info here https://fubar.space/2023/dada-to-data/
Applying an art history and theory-based lens to the glitch art communities we participate in, this discussion will explore how the world arrived at glitch art, and how we can be sure it will stick around. From Dada to data, artists have long rebelled against oppressive systems and the underlying societal fears we all face. Using glitch art as a basis for this discussion, we might imagine corruptive art in the future.
Anna Christine Sands Born in the American Midwest in 1993. The daughter of an early pioneer in the world of personal computing, she eventually adopted and grew into her father’s interest in digital imaging. Like most children born in the early 1990s, Sands grew up alongside the Internet itself, forming a sort of symbiotic relationship with the World Wide Web. This connection to cyberspace eventually deepened and developed into a studio practice examining art in the post-digital, post-Internet world.
She attended the Art Academy of Cincinnati and was awarded a BFA in Photography in 2016. She graduated from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago with a Masters of Fine Arts focusing in Art and Technology Studies in 2021. Her work has been a part of festivals such as Ars Electronica, The Wrong Biennial and the Miami New Media Festival. She has also exhibited four times in the world’s longest-running annual glitch art exhibition, /’fu:bar
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tortoisebore · 10 months
Note
i loved your post about sirius and remus’ jobs! i was wondering what do u think the girls would work as?
hmmmm okay okay i don’t feel like i know them as well as characters so i’m just spitballing here
my gut says marlene & sirius work together at the diner. like imagine the vibes. the early saturday shifts and taking all the overnight weekend shifts nobody else wants during summer break. she’s got her apron with all her pins and buttons and her pen with the pink pom pom on the end that she uses to take orders. and her hair is always different colors and she does all these fun ponytails and braids and scrunchies and butterfly clips that make the plain t-shirt + jeans + apron combo so so cute
and when she and sirius are on shift together they’re putting the old radio in the back on the pop girlie station and irritating the manager and bugging the line cooks for “leftover” fries. she’s really personable to the nice customers and carries lollipops in her apron for the kids that don’t scream their heads off. she gets promoted to shift lead during summer break which means she’s technically sirius’ boss and she takes full and complete advantage of that and orders he make her and dorcas milkshakes and sundaes when dorcas comes in to see her ((he acts really put out about it but where james and lily are like his second parents, dorcas and marlene are like his cool aunts that travel a lot and like to gossip with him so he’ll bumble around and keep the place in order while marlene takes a long lunch if it means they’re happy)) ((remus pokes fun at him for it but secretly thinks it’s sweet when sirius only seats new customers in the back section so that the girls can sit at the cute sparkly booth by the window in peace))
dorcas works at the local library maybe? but as the person that sorts the shelves and puts the returned books back bc being at the front desk dealing with the assholes that don’t want to pay their fines is not her speed. she does the saturday kids story times sometimes and on those days she wears her sparkliest dangly crystal earrings and ties a few more into her locs because one time a little boy told her she looked like a crystal fairy and she’s never forgotten it
mary’s running a plato’s closet like the navy. she’s arguing with the weirdos that come in with fifteen year old forever 21 tops that ‘no, this is absolutely not worth $20, you’re delusional. you’ll take $3 of store credit or you’ll get the hell out of here.’ she’s sorting the shoes by both color AND size and the knits and dresses wall in the back is pristine on the nights she closes. she’s texting marlene that someone just brought in a bright yellow leather jacket or telling sirius that these big combat boots with chains just got dropped off and she’ll set them aside so they can come grab them if they want. everyone’s getting clothes for birthdays—she’s picking the ugliest, thickest grandpa sweaters for remus and the plaid miniskirts for marlene and the patterned maxi skirts for dorcas and the tiny tank tops that say “babydoll” for sirius. james is getting sweatshirts because he genuinely loves them and loses his shit when he opens the gift bag and finds yet another random college hoodie for a university he does not attend. lily gets all the best tiny purses and the belts with cute butterfly buckles
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crash-stop · 7 months
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This saturday 1-3pm gmt +1 Anna Christine Sands ( more info here https://fubar.space/2023/dada-to-data/)
Applying an art history and theory-based lens to the glitch art communities we participate in, this discussion will explore how the world arrived at glitch art, and how we can be sure it will stick around. From Dada to data, artists have long rebelled against oppressive systems and the underlying societal fears we all face. Using glitch art as a basis for this discussion, we might imagine corruptive art in the future.
Anna Christine Sands
Born in the American Midwest in 1993. The daughter of an early pioneer in the world of personal computing, she eventually adopted and grew into her father’s interest in digital imaging. Like most children born in the early 1990s, Sands grew up alongside the Internet itself, forming a sort of symbiotic relationship with the World Wide Web. This connection to cyberspace eventually deepened and developed into a studio practice examining art in the post-digital, post-Internet world.
She attended the Art Academy of Cincinnati and was awarded a BFA in Photography in 2016. She graduated from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago with a Masters of Fine Arts focusing in Art and Technology Studies in 2021. Her work has been a part of festivals such as Ars Electronica, The Wrong Biennial and the Miami New Media Festival. She has also exhibited four times in the world’s longest-running annual glitch art exhibition, /’fu:bar/.
annachristinesands.com/
instagram.com/annachristinesands/
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theresthesnitch · 1 year
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I posted 4,523 times in 2022
That's 1,574 more posts than 2021!
1,544 posts created (34%)
2,979 posts reblogged (66%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@theresthesnitch
@elder-millennial-trash
@squintclover
@impishtubist
@krethes
I tagged 3,356 of my posts in 2022
Only 26% of my posts had no tags
#snitch answers asks - 1,033 posts
#wolfstar - 473 posts
#snitchwrites - 323 posts
#remus lupin - 239 posts
#sirius black - 229 posts
#ignite - 219 posts
#jily - 213 posts
#fic rec - 168 posts
#james potter - 159 posts
#shameless reblog - 144 posts
Longest Tag: 134 characters
#james potter is the kind of boy who brings you a box of banana muffin mix because he remebers that one time you gave him a bite of one
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
(a little something for Sirius and Harry Saturday that I decided was too long for @impishtubist's askbox...)
When Sirius moved in with the Potters, things were not just suddenly okay. Sirius acted out a lot. Testing boundaries, sure, but he also thought that they would eventually kick him out too, because if even his parents didn't love him enough to keep him, then why would the Potters?
Only, Euphemia and Fleamont were not Walburga and Orion. They responded to each outburst with kindness and love. They set reasonable boundaries and had reasonable expectations. Every time Sirius did something else to break those boundaries and force them to finally punish him, Euphemia would look at him and say, "I love you, but I don't love the way you are acting right now."
One night, Sirius came home, hours after abandoning James in some muggle neighborhood, drunk and high. Euphemia stayed with him until he sobered up, even though he slept through most of it.
When he woke up, she was sitting in a chair next to his bed, knitting. She saw he was awake, and proceeded to tell him that she loved him, unconditionally, and that she was worried about him. She promised to always be there for him, even when he scared her the way he did the night before.
Sirius had never had anyone worry for him before. He hadn't thought that what he was doing would scare her. He never again disappeared like that, or came back quite that out of it.
(She knit a sweater that night, which Sirius wore nearly constantly until he wore it to rags. She knit him another to replace it.)
When Harry came to live with Sirius and Remus after POA, he was overly well behaved at the beginning. Sirius and Remus had to convince him that he didn't have to wake up early to make them breakfast, he didn't have to sweep and mop and wipe down the counters and the toilets every night, and he did not have to stay out of the way so he was neither seen nor heard. It took a while, and the sacrifice of every single piece of the Black Family fine china launched at the hideous Black Family Tree tapestry, but they finally convinced Harry that it was alright to be a teenager.
With the new freedom, Harry rebelled.
It was small things, at first. Testing boundaries. When he found lines to cross, he did, and Sirius watched as Harry braced for whatever punishment he had been conditioned to expect. It never came, and every time, when Harry relaxed again, Sirius watched the confusion and awe on his face, and wondered whether Euphemia saw the same mix of emotions on his own face.
Remus didn't get it–why Harry lashed out at them. He couldn't get it; not really. His parents weren't perfect, but they loved him.
Sirius got it, though. He understood the absolute disbelief that someone could love you as you were, unconditionally. So every time Harry yelled at them, or broke something, or slammed his door so hard that the entire house groaned under it, Sirius thought of Euphemia and her kind smile and her kinder words.
I love you, but I don't love how you're acting right now.
392 notes - Posted May 14, 2022
#4
Imagine Professor Remus J. Lupin showing up to Hogwarts the first week of September 1993, and all the professors are going on about the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lupin assures them that the chamber does not exist because TRUST HIM they would have found it (with a wink and a smirk to the professors who knew him back then).
Professor McGonagall sits him down one evening with a cup of tea spiked with a little fire whiskey, and proceeds to absolutely blow Remus's mind about the way that little Harry Potter beat all of the Marauder's accomplishments by the end of his second year.
419 notes - Posted July 15, 2022
#3
Wolfstar raising Harry snippet
This is from the fic that I'm writing (sloooooowly) in order to make @impishtubist cry. This is from the first night with Harry living with Sirius.
“Keep calling me old, Remus, and I’ll tell him about how you started getting grey hairs at 15.” Sirius tried to make his voice sound threatening, but he was just too content with the two of them to pull it off.
Remus rolled his eyes and waived his wand to send the dishes to the sink. “I’m a werewolf. We age prematurely due to–” 
“–due to your condition, yes, I know your excuses.” Sirius finished for him. 
Remus raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say due to the fact that I had to deal with you and James.” 
“Oh Merlin,” Harry said as he stood up and moved to the sink. “With both of those, I’m surprised you have any brown hair left.” 
Remus and Sirius both laughed, caught a bit off guard by how much the joke sounded like James. The laughter died off when Harry started filling the sink with water. 
“Haz, what are you doing?” Sirius asked. 
Harry didn’t even look over his shoulder. Instead, his head was under the sink, digging for something. “The dishes. Where’s the soap?”
“I don’t have any, and you don’t need to do the dishes.” 
Harry turned around, brow furrowed. “You don’t have soap? How do you get the dishes clean?”
Remus raised his wand and pointed it at the sink. Immediately it filled with sudzy water, and the dishes began scrubbing themselves. “Did you forget we were wizards, Harry?”
Harry looked dumbly at the sink before moving back to the table. “I guess I didn’t think of it. I’ve always done them by hand.” 
“Your mum did that too, I remember.” Sirius said. “Said she never liked the way the charm got them clean.” 
“Do you remember when James cleaned them with the charm without telling her, and she made him pull them all back out of the cabinets to redo it?” Remus laughed. 
“She was so mad.” Sirius leaned back laughing. “He knew she didn’t like it, but didn’t think she could actually tell the difference, and he wanted to go out to play pick-up quidditch”
“She got mad at him for how he cleaned the dishes?” Harry looked confused. 
“Not like mad, mad.” Remus said. “She helped him redo them, and in the end, I think they ended up–” Remus cut off short, eyes going wide as he looked at Sirius.
Harry looked between them. “Ended up what?” 
Sirius smirked. “Dancing. In the kitchen together.” 
Harry smiled, leaning on his hand. “That’s sweet.” Remus snorted, but he managed to hide it behind a cough.
“They were always like that.” Sirius smiled fondly at the memory of them. “They would bicker and banter, and then suddenly they’d be so wrapped up in each other that you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other started.”
445 notes - Posted July 21, 2022
#2
Okay, but now I'm picturing a gossipy Voldemort keeping up to date on all the goings ons.
"He married the mudblood? Absolute waste of a pureblood. He was good looking too. Could have had any pureblood girl he wanted, probably. No, not your wife Lucius, but he's very good looking, you can't deny that."
"I can't believe they're together. Shacking up with a half-blood, half-breed. My, how the House of Black has fallen. Orion, how shameful for you."
"Molly Weasley is pregnant again? Didn't she just have twins? Are they trying to get enough kids to have a quidditch team or something? How funny would it be if the next one is a girl? Yes, Bella, I know that girls can play quidditch too, but not well."
"Did you see the robes that Dumbledore was wearing on that last raid? Magenta is not your color, Alby. Someone should really tell him."
670 notes - Posted July 24, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
I have a *thing* for Wolfstar fics when Remus thinks Sirius isn't going to stick with him because he's not good enough for Sirius, then it flips to Sirius's POV and he's tripping over his own feet because he's just so into Remus he can't think straight.
1,073 notes - Posted March 13, 2022
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pokemontrainerevan · 1 year
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Hi, hello, I'm Evan! (Introduction)
(This is a Pokemon RP blog, RP rules are in a Caard linked in my bio)
Hello! I'm Evan (he/him), a Pokémon Trainer from the Galar region! I'm currently travelling Paldea, taking on the Pokémon League, but I've been to a bunch of different places in the past too. My dream is to become a member of the Galar Elite Four!
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Despite my being from Galar, my first gym challenge was actually in Alola, on a school exchange trip. That's where I met my starter and eventually ace Pokémon, Rowlet, who is now a Decidueye. I've done gym challenges in Kalos, Galar and Alola but I've never beaten the elite four...
I don't really have a favourite Pokémon type! I like all different kinds of Pokémon, but if I HAD to pick... I think I like the most Fire types?
I'm very passionate about making sure my Pokémon are all comfortable and doing what THEY want to be doing rather than what I want. I use Pokeballs for registration and Pokémon Centre reasons, but I find that travelling with my Pokémon outside of their balls helps to form a greater bond! I've been obsessed with Pokemon since I was little, and I can't imagine doing anything else! I also like cooking and travelling though - the latter of which is why I tend to move on from regions rather quickly. Galar will always be home, though!
I'll mainly post random thoughts about my experiences and my Pokemon, and what we get up to!
I've had many teams throughout the years, who I all adore dearly, but there's a few who have stuck with me on many of my journeys.
Archer, my beloved Decidueye, who was handed to me as a Rowlet by Professor Kukui almost 6 years ago now. As a novice trainer working my way through a foreign region, he was my emotional (and sometimes physical) crutch, and I consider him my very best friend to this day. Archer is a very kind-hearted and gentle Pokemon and will take other Pokemon under his wing in times of need, but he can be rather arrogant sometimes! As an experienced, fully-evolved Pokemon, Archer gets a lot of attention and he basks in it. Little do they know, despite his appearance and noble pride, Archer is a big softy, and will often fall asleep nestled into my side. He wakes me up early on Saturday mornings demanding to watch cartoons. He likes to think he's some mystical serene being of mystery - he is not, he still gets chow on his beak when he eats.
Scorch, my Scorbunny, is by all accounts, my real first Pokemon. My dad gave him to me after the bullying at school got particularly bad. Scorch has never evolved - he doesn't seem to want to, and that's totally fine! He's got, unsurprisingly, a very fiery and passionate personality. He'll cheer anyone on when they're feeling down in the dumps, and is great with kids - but behind closed doors, Scorch is an absolute menace. He'll chew on the corners of tables, empty Pokeballs (how, I don't know), and never leave any vegetable lying around because he WILL immediately eat it. This includes vegetables that get him sick - that was an embarrassing trip to the Pokemon Center. "Hi yes my Scorbunny ate an entire onion while I was in the shower, please heal this little idiot". He's great company and a fantastic friend but he has the IQ of a rock (affectionate).
My Vaporeon is called Link, and I won't get into how he evolved for personal reasons, but he's what my mum would describe as an "old soul". I feel like, if he could talk, he'd be incredibly wise. He's very graceful and polite - he chews his food carefully and slowly (unlike somebody, Archer), and walks with a tremendous sense of purpose. When he was an Eevee, he always had my back on my Alolan journey, and he still does to this day! If I forget my wallet, he'll nudge my bag, and he seems to always know where the house keys are when I don't. I always joke that he might be part Espeon, with how much he seems to just know! In battle, Link is not to be messed with. Despite his appearance, he ended up being the tank of the team, taking hits like an absolute champ while I healed up other Pokemon, and his Water Gun wiped Olivia's entire team. An old lady on the train in Galar once commented "Ah, you've got yourself a wee protector there, haven't ye?" and I think that describes him perfectly.
I never understood the "bratty Pikachu line" stereotypes until I actually got one myself. My Raichu, Nariku, would demand I wait him on hand and foot if I could. I caught him as a Pichu during sunset in Alola, and he's been a right thorn in my side ever since. He seems to change what type of chow he likes on the daily, and will refuse to eat from anything except his own special bowl at home - which is inconvenient when we're travelling. He HATES baths and will shock you if you try to clean near his ears, and he spends at least 3 hours straight cleaning himself after a fight. He's a right brat, but dammit, he's MY brat! He likes to be close to me, and will demand cuddles and carries at any given opportunity. Given that he evolved into a Kanto Raichu and not an Alolan Raichu, I think it's unfortunately safe to say that he was either smuggled or abandoned, and I'm leaning towards the latter, given his response to certain stimuli. I'll pamper him all he wants to make up for what is probably a terrible past. He's very agile and hard-hitting in fights, and prefers to end things as quickly as possible - he isn't a fan of stat boosting moves.
I met my Lucario, Jackal, on a rainy day in Galar's wild area. He was on his own, so I asked him if he'd at least accompany me to a Pokemon Center so I could get him some help. Lucario are smart Pokemon, so he understood me. I have a soft spot for Lucario - my mum had one when I was little. He joined my team shortly after that, and he's been fiercely loyal to me ever since. He can border on overprotective sometimes - if Link is a gentle and calm protector, Jackal can border on overreaction sometimes. He takes battling and protecting me and his team VERY seriously, and will stay up late into the night training by himself. I often have to threaten him with time out in the Pokeball just to get him to go to sleep. He likes to carry the littler Pokemon around if they get tired walking. He sleeps at the foot of my bed with his head on my feet.
I have a very goofy Lycanroc named Fenris. Similarly to Archer, he comes off as this very proud and noble beast but throw a ball for him and he turns into your average Lillipup! He goes absolutely nuts for belly rubs and neck scratches. He's also responsible for 90% of my email spam. Because he's a rare Dusk Lycanroc, I keep getting offers from Pokemon modeling agencies for him to fly out to Unova or Kalos or wherever for a photoshoot. Problem is, travelling that far would require him to be in a Pokeball for at least some of the trip - and he HATES his Pokeball. Nowdays, the Great Ball I caught him in is covered in bite marks and scuffs from when we've used it as a normal ball. Fenris has lots of love to give, and is great at calming both people and Pokemon down.
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sir-klauz · 1 year
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(Gerard Way, by me. Black ballpoint, red fine-liner. 🖊🩸 )
Soo I’ve not posted much OC character stuff of recent as I’m still writing the second chapter of The Lord of Wet and Pyro Princess Adventures (Genshin Ayato x Diluc fanfic I’m having a lot of fun with as I’m back in ~Genshin playing mode~ since I invested a bunch in the game and it’s also the Lantern Rite time of year again, a favourite of mine).
I’ve had a request to finish my WattPad Kaze fanfic too, which I’ll try and deliver but I got kinda stick in the basement scene lmfao as writing Zero as a top is so odd for me even though I Want It to happen.
I’ve wanted to get out some Kaze stuff as not as many people post it anymore and I’ve realised there’s still a big fandom community for Vampire Knight which is excitingg! I might move it over to Ao3 once I have time.~
I’ve been a little busy planning and “making the art” and custom credit card designs as well as payment plan ideas not too mention considering setting up an Etsy or Fiverr or somewhere people have more access to than pixiv as setting up my regular posting on my pixivFANBOX and trying to build a schedule for Saturdays whilst juggling my physical/mental health and transition as well as parenting and socialising more. Basically I want a gallery of stuff to trickle out rather than doing it every week under pressure rather than when it comes to me, as whenever I have pressure to deliver I lose my imagination and just feel like it’s a chore so avoid it. I’m sure other creatives can relate!
Likewise I’m sitting back and reading again to unwind again and haven’t caught up with everything I’m reading yet but I’ve got numerous things In The Works I’m taking more time on rather than rushing out chapters such as:
• The NYE one shot for Orange Juice in the Studio~
• Chapter 3 “A Date In The City” of Orange Juice in the Studio, essentially the ~teaser~ Aquarium and ice cream parlour date where I finally introduce supporting character into the actual story who works at the parlour! I don’t know when I’ll be introducing Mama but they are on the horizon for sure. I’m currently busy researching real locations in Valencia and I’ve never been so I don’t have in person reference and am sourcing that online. I’m also researching top LGBT+ hang out locations/clubs in the city to make appearances in the storyline.
• ORANGE JUICE IN THE STUDIO CHARACTER INFO SHEETS!!! Exciting.
Here I’ll give lots of what you need to know about OC and Reader! I’m wondering if I should not make one though for Reader or ask for engagement from my actual readers of Who Reader Is To Them, as well, the whole point of the character is to depict You as a reader, and those who relate to what I write can get on board. I will make a mock up one for sure and be loose with it as a rule! Or leave out absolute details like “star sign” or height or something.~
• Beginning work on the AU “HorrorLand! The Isle of Marionettes”! This will be about the Orange Juice OCs. As you can tell, it’ll be slightly gory horror fiction, somewhere to express my love for horror and things but not canon. Just a little fun.
• Designing what will be in my monthly newsletter which only Bronze subscribers will get for yours truly to enjoy!
• Weekly updates to my pixivFANBOX, with my manga style art specifically. My pixivFANBOX is for my manga art style only, my other types of art can be found on zer0comicz IG, and Zer0 Comics on Facebook, or posted on here. This is my official name for my freelance illustration/comic business.
• I’ll try getting some new commissions up I’ve got of OC and Reader on here and/or on @crimsonyoukai , if not that, I’ll make some mock ups on PiCrew whilst I’m doing my own.
• Tiered FANs will be getting The Monthly Marionette+, this begins after the first month of being a patron on Bronze, Silver (to be set up) and Gold (to be set up). I’ll announce when the newsletter is starting to air!
You can get early teasers for chapters of OJITS posted on my pixivFANBOX as well too on Bronze tier, I’m not posting teasers so much on here anymore until I’ve aired it for protection of my work etc.
My Ao3 profile for writing updates!
Any queries or questions or anything you’d like to know in general or what you may like to also see from me, please feel free to drop them into my Ask Box!
I have commissions open for art likewise. Each custom piece is £5, £10 for more detailed works, which I offer postage for the original or a print. Tattoo designs are £25 each.
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charlesandmartine · 15 hours
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Saturday 27th April 2024
We awoke early this morning, now trained to go game watching at silly o'clock. I thought the air conditioning must be on, but it was the roar of the Falls that can constantly be heard from our room. The immense spray can be seen rising from the gorge hewn by the water.
The sun beat down on us yet again. 32° on the rich, the poor, the just and the unjust. Our personal guide showed up on queue, bundled us into the back of his minibus and swiftly drove us to the Falls some 1km from the hotel. The Chinese were ahead of us already doing the selfies. Imagine if you will the holiday slide show happening soon in the home of the Pings, downtown Shanghai. What picture is this asks daddy Ping? That's Victoria Falls says Shing. Where Falls says daddy Ping, all I see is your ugly face. You got any other picture of Falls? Shing falls silent for a moment, then brightens and says yes, I took picture of Falls me and Ting. But Victoria Falls is World Heritage Site, is 107m high, 1737m wide and has 1100m3/sec, 300,000 gallons per sec. flowing over it why only picture of ugly face. Was same with Taj Mahal, London Bridge, Sydney Bridge. Last time I pay for holiday! (Names changed to protect the innocent)
This thing is immense and awe inspiring and the most amazing waterfall we have ever seen. It's construction is of several falls: Devil's Cataract used in previous days as an animal sacrifice area in times of hardship, the Main Falls, Horseshoe Falls, Rainbow Falls and Armchair Falls. In terms of scale it is 10th widest and 13th by volume but figures combined make it to the top three waterfalls in the world. The spray from the crashing water hitting the bedrocks far below rose high into the air forming fine rain soaking us through despite wearing cagoules. Whole areas were hidden intermittently due to the low cloud formed. The viewing walkways have been planted with rainforest vegetation and palm trees because after all, it is warm and it rains continuously and ideal conditions for such a beautiful tropical creation.
The first European to find the Falls was of course David Livingstone in 1855. The Chobe River we were by, is one of several feeds to the Zambezi which tips over the Zambian side of the Falls allowing the Zimbabwe peoples to get a good look at it. Livingstone, whose statue we passed, spent his life in Zambia, dying in Chitambo in 1873. He apparently said his heart lay with Zambia, so whether he meant this literally or not, we shall never know for sure, they cut his heart out and buried it there and posted the rest of him back to Westminster Abbey. The railway bridge which also forms the border with Zambia, passes close to the Falls and is an integral part of the Cape Town to Cairo railway a dream of Cecil Rhodes. A jaw dropping engineering project from the late 19 century. Well it would be but it ran out of steam, navies and engineers by the time it reached Tanzania due to sickness and being eaten by lions and it didn't get any further. The 156m bridge was designed by the same guys who built Sydney Harbour bridge; prefabricated in Cleveland, England and shipped out in kit form; an amazing achievement in itself. It was completed in just 14 months in 1905.
Now the Victoria Falls Hotel is quite a closed community with its internal staff coupled closely with the outdoor security staff that have the appearance of a small army! They parade around the grounds keeping non-guests, locals, undesirables and baboons firmly under control and away from the bricks and mortar. They are not that keen on guests either and are likely to ask what your room number is. After recuperating from our dousing at the Falls this morning, we spent an hour or so in the sun by the pool and then felt strong enough to escape to promenade the high street. From the minibus it all looked very jolly; full of curiosity shops, the odd eating place and bar. So off we went. Now I'm sure that they are all very nice people in their own way, but I began to understand how an impala felt just popping out to where the lions live. To start with there were stares similar to those I imagine a black person might get in a white enclave. Then the hard sell starts; carvings, little wooden bowls, statuettes and bright African things. All highly valued in their own way but no I don't want one is not the right answer. You are accompanied along the street having the goods yet again thrust in front of you in case you hadn't previously realised just how much you needed one of these. Then there's the person who is convinced you want a supermarket, maybe for water and he's your man to help you find one. Then there's the honest beggars. A call will be heard from inside a shop you may be passing. It's like the entire Zimbabwe economy must depend on what's in your pocket. We felt desperately for these people but we really don't know what we could do for them. We've done as much as we can simply by coming, staying in a hotel which employs local people. I took a photo of a discarded steam engine and we legged it back to the security of the hotel just mentioned our room number to the host of guards patrolling outside once or twice.
Jungle Junction not being for us tonight we decided to eat on the terrace restaurant. The official currency in Zimbabwe is the US dollar although they have in the last couple of weeks announced for the first time ever their own currency although from what I've heard it's plummeting faster than a bucket down a well. Items purchased and meals are unusually expensive here in the hotel probably due to the link with the dollar. Meal last night was not too far short of $100!
ps Zimbabwe flags are all flying half mast because 3 brigadiers were killed in a motor accident.
pps Tomorrow we will be boarding the Rovos Rail for the next four nights to Pretoria. WiFi might be scarce.
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