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#but im too tired and lazy and tired to start the road to getting it
munch-mumbles · 5 months
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kj post five hundred thousand lamenting the loss of my passion for drawing because its starting to feel like its never coming back
#it shouldnt feel like a chore! i miss when it was fun!!!!#as much as i try not to care about my art posts flopping because i know attention shouldnt be my motivator for drawing#it does still make me a little sad so now my brain struggles to want to create anything#like i WANT to create desperately desperately but i sit down to draw and just want to go to bed#the tiredness has been permeating my life ive become extremely socially isolated#which loops around to making me even more bored because im just in my own head all day and theres not even anything in here#my attention span has degraded to the point that i literally have to force myself to try and think about my own ocs most of the time#which doesnt even work because within two seconds i get distracted by being frustrated i have to force it#gruhhhhh . grouhhhh#i miss when mlad was fresh and it was so fun and exciting and fulfilling to work on it#now even though i still love it and want to work on it it just keeps slipping between my fingers#GRUHHH. i want to draw i want to write i want to talk to people but i Cant#i need to join another server or something because after my last Really bad mental period i isolated myself a lot lot lot. and ive been too#scared to go back to my old spot and now i very rarely talk to more than one person a day (excluding work)#im lonely and im too exhausted to be interesting enough to fix it!#im pretty sure 80% of my problems could be fixed with like. adhd medication#but im too tired and lazy and tired to start the road to getting it#sorry i keep coming back to append on more tags but last thought i prommy. i just miss when things could actually hold my attention#i miss having the motivation to do minicomics for lore drops i miss being so excited about aus with friends i would do multiple sketches a#day i miss being so gripped by individual scenes between characters i would take the time to write a multi page minific about it#why cant my brain HOLD ANYTHING ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#JUST PAY ATTENTION :(#i need a new hyperfixation or im going to do something drastic.
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baby--b4t · 2 months
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Pet/AgeRe Bot Batch !! ( *>∀<)ゞ*° +
Cyno caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=tF70FUDOBXG3CLQZKRk8gfKmGn8G1UsBNWuHFezOloo
《 SFW /r | Pet/AgeRe | Fem Autistic User | Aquarium date 》
『 Cyno and you decided that a nice date idea would be to spend a day at the aquarium. It was relatively quiet and you had an interest with sea life. You guys paid for your tickets to get in and started exploring. There were so many species to look at, Cyno coming up with a headache of a joke for nearly every one.
You started to feel a bit light and fuzzy as you guys explored. Your mind was so happy and overwhelmed with being there that you realized you were regressing, and Cyno noticed. He grabbed your hand gently and held it in his own.
"Woah there, slow down, beetle. Cant have you running off and getting lost now can I?" Cyno said softly, smiling at you. "Show me where you want to head next." 』
Dottore caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=1JVuGOdlNS8YZATHC7n3uGYnWBwBTvBGmze5XyBjnVA
《 SFW /p | Pet/AgeRe | A childish experiment 》
『 Dottore wasnt working on anything too attention taking when he heard footsteps shuffling to his door. It really was just a bit of paperwork, detailing reactions from his most recent experiment. You had been feeling younger and fuzzier mentally and werent sure why. Seeking out Dottore is the only thing you thought to do.
"Im busy." Dottore muttered as he heard the door open, then looked to see who it was. "... Im not terribly busy. What do you need from me?" He turned his head back to the paperwork he had in front of him on his desk. You explained what you were feeling, explaining it all with a childish tone and speech. Dottore found this quite amusing, hearing you explain you felt like a child rather than an adult.
"Perhaps youve hit your head, like the clutz you are." Dottore chuckled, standing up and approaching you. He checked you over, seeing if there was any external injury before thinking further. "Perhaps we should indulge in this new feeling, hm?". You were led over to his desk chair, being sat down as Dottore rummaged through a box. He pulled out a bottle, pacifier, and a couple toys, presenting them all to you.
"I have left over objects from some... Younger.. Subjects that were here with me. How do these objects make you feel?" Dottore asked, watching you closely. 』
Kaveh caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=SeCc77fYw9X9XZCnalc7FyeL7kjucdGnbdolsfiKUyQ
《 SFW /p | PetRe | Lion Hybrid User | Noise sensitive 》
『 You were a lion hybrid that Kaveh had adopted, seeing how injured and unkempt you were. The company taking care of you werent exactly the best at that. As Kaveh began to show you how to shower, eat, and feel comfortable in your new home, he learned that you were quite sensitive. He could relate and sympathize with you.
You two had been living together for a while now, you being close and trusting with Kaveh now. Kaveh was laying on the couch with you, running his hand through your fluffy hair and scratching behind your ears. Today was a lazy day. Well, it was supposed to be a lazy day.
A loud crashing sound was heard from outside, causing both Kaveh and you to jump. Kaveh felt you begin to tremble and gently shushed you.
"Hey, hey.. Its alright. Let me go see what it is." Kaveh gently moved you off of himself so he could go see what the noise was. He peered out of a window to see what seemed to be some construction going on. The bundle of wood laying off to the side of the road seemed to be the cause of the noise. "Of course today is the day that start that.." 』
Razor caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=NTMVOPo7IJggmshIDFcSDaRMU8bD667y_x6OyTHyj98
《 SFW /p | Pet/AgeRe | "Why cry? Need hug?" 》
『 Razor had never really been good with reading emotions or understanding the more complex ones. Yet, he loved taking care of you whenever you were regressed. He made playtime fun and took you to the library with Lisa when you seemed tired. He would bring you all sorts of snacks he found in the wild as well.
However, the one thing he wasnt able to really do for you was comfort you. You cried often and over small things as well. He always felt sad that he never knew what to do for you. This was another one of those times. You had stumbled a little bit and scraped your hands and knees a little bit. Razor immediately came over to you and seemed very conecerned.
"Hey, hey, why cry?" Razor asked as he crouched next to you. He then saw your scrapes and looked over them for a moment. "Ah, I see. Need hug? We go to the river and wash them, then they all better!" He asked, trying to cheer you up. Your scrapes werent bleeding very much, so washing them in the river would probably be all you needed to do. 』
Thomas Merrick caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=HSqg65xsUHwdDtOnwiGkMuIV19Kp05SxxQJAcm-EXzM
《 SFW /p | Pet/AgeRe | Late night snacks 》
『 It was 1am, so why did Merrick hear someone moving around in the kitchen area? Everyone should be sleeping, but apparently he and someone else were not. The man finally sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, deciding to investigate the noise.
Merrick opened his door and looked out towards the kitchen area. There he saw you, looking through the cabinets for something to eat. He also saw you had some sort of chewable toy in your mouth.
"{{user}}? Why are you up and going through the kitchen? And.. Whats that in your mouth?" Merrick asked as he started walking closer to you, leaning on one of the counters. Thats when it started to click in his half awake mind. He softened his expression a bit. "Ah, this is that regression stuff I heard about, yeah?" 』
Tighnari caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=DLSZUOxef8hQquyLUuQZM-w24SIyo0Y3NgNg67lwkK8
《 SFW /p | Pet/AgeRe | Autistic Non-Verbal/Semi-Verbal User | Meltdown comfort 》
『 Today had stressed you out big time. You woke up late, then found out the work you had to do today was more than you had been told, and then you had bumped into a group of angry boars that tried to attack you. It was safe to say you broke down once you got back home.
Tighnari always got back before you and tended to tidy up a little bit before you got back, but he stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard the door slam shut. He rushed to you, see you crouched down on the floor and already getting ready to cry.
"Hey, hey, hey. Deep breaths, {{user}}, deep breaths." Tighnari said, gently grabbing one of your hands and putting it on his chest. He tried to lead you through some deep breaths before he helped you over to a small chart with some common words you used on it. You and Tighnari had made it so you could communicate better. "Can you show me what has you upset? Or maybe what I can do to help you?" 』
Wriothesley caregiver ;; https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=qu1uXE_4OXa9bHbh73tOSTPdRzU0x1FPQx9BMLseYpk
《 SFW /p | Pet/AgeRe | Time out 》
『 Wriothesley had been trying to get you to calm down for a little bit at this point. You were throwing a fit because he wasnt letting you have any cookies after you had lunch. He had hidden them from you so you wouldnt dig into them while he was trying to work. Your tantrum had gone too far when you had threw a stuffed animal at him. He tried to keep his cool, picking you up and sitting you in the corner where you had a play-pen kind of set up. He set you down inside of the makeshift play-pen and sighed.
"You are being naughty right now and I dont exactly appriciate that." Wriothesley said sternly, yet he didnt raise his voice. "Youre going to sit here in time out until you can calm down, okay? Not throwing stuff, no yelling at me for cookies, and no whining because you cant have cookies. Ill come back in a few minutes to see if youve calmed down."
Wriothesley walked back over to his desk and sat down, trying to ignore your crying. He really didnt like to punish you with time out, but sometimes you needed some time to cool off so he could talk to you. 』
Feel free to ask any question, comments, or concerns !!
(ノ>ω<)ノ
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virginmiri99 · 1 year
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Boni I need advice how do u drive every day... Im still new to driving and lately I've been making mistakes on the road that scare me and make me feel like I'm not going to grow into a good driver because of my brain. How do people get good at driving
SORRY I'M LATE!!! Drive can be really scary--I drive a ram pickup truck which doesn't make the task any easier. When I first started driving I was actually terrified, I didn't want do drive over 20 mph, I didn't want to leave a neighborhood, I didn't want to drive alone... But I slowly got better at it. I won't lie and say even after years I don't make silly mistakes, but some of my tips include:
-obviously number one don't text and drive. Everyone is guilty of this and it can be pretty dangerous since a lot of teens think they're capable of doing both.
-For staying in the lines, I have a trick to measure, but its different on every car so just be aware.
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If you line up the end of your car by the wheel, and about 3/4th of the hood, that should be in the lines. It makes it easier to stay in the lines because you don't have to look at your mirrors which requires more head turning.
-Get some round mirrors if you have the funds.
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these things are the MVP of driving (especially if you have a pick up) bc they help show you everything in your blindspot. Whenever I merge I ONLY look at the round mirrors tbh. It shows me more.
-If you spin out, let go of the gas and steer in the right direction. I'm only adding this bc I've spun out TWICE in the last two days bc my shitty tire traction. this is good to remember.
-You might hate to hear it, but practice! That what my dad says lol. Ive been driving basically everyday in a city setting since I was 15, and I'm 21 now. It's really about growing confidence in your skills. I was once too frightened to leave my neighborhood while driving, and now I drive on the highway with one hand on the wheel. I know it seems scary, but sometimes a little confidence will help your skills! I know you can do it!!!!
I myself need to keep up the vigilance so this was a wonderful ask to refresh my memory. Don't start to get lazy like me!!! As much as I drive every single day I'm still capable of mistakes, just watch the road and watch your mirrors.
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thedisasterracers · 9 months
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Fanfic: The fashionable besties (parody of parks and rec)
It was a normal day in sugar rush, nothing to special only Crumbelina doing her nails as usual; suddenly Rancis bust through Crumbelina’s door and Gloyd starts yelling.
Gloyd: G TO THE O IS IN THE BUILDING HERE TO ANNOUNCE THAT RANCIS FLUGGERBUTTER IS IN HERE!!!
Rancis enters in running while holding something in his hands.
Rancis: One two one two! Crumbelina!
Crumbelina: Rancis!
He opens up a box that he had in his hands and it’s revealed to be cupcakes.
Rancis: Got three words for you. Treat, yo, self.
Both: 🎵Treat yo self 2023!🎵
————
Rancis: Once a year, Crumbelina and I spend a day treating ourselves. What do we treat ourselves to?
Crumbelina: Clothes.
Rancis: Treat yo self.
Crumbelina: Fragrances.
Rancis: Treat yo self.
Crumbelina: Massages.
Rancis: Treat yo self.
Crumbelina: Milkshakes.
Rancis: Treat yo self.
Crumbelina: Fine wrapping goods.
Rancis: Treat yo self.
Crumbelina: It’s the best day of the year.
Both: The Best Day Of The Year!
—————
Crumbelina: I got a question, What do you think of inviting Sour Bill to come along with us today?
Rancis was dancing to the music that Gloyd was playing and was cut off due to crumbs question.
Rancis: Whaaattt? Nooooo. This is OUR thing.
Crumbelina: But he really looks like he could use a day off. He’s like a skinny little licorice band that’s about to snap in half.
Rancis: Exactly, he doesn’t know how to relax. Crumbs, you and I are relaxation professionals besides from being racers, there’s no way Sour Bill doesn’t have enough Candy Oil to keep up with us! My Fashionable bestie this is our holy day; it’s the one day of the year I allow myself to be selfish.
Gloyd sees the cupcakes and tries to grab one.
Gloyd: Ohhhh wait, you didn’t mention we were having cupcakes!
Quickly butterfingers grabs the box before the prankster could even grab one.
Rancis: Those are all for me, Gloyd.
———
Later the two try to find Sour Bill before they go to the mall. They spot him sitting down in a bench having lunch, he’s waiting outside for Vanellope so she can get her ice cream. The fashionable besties are inside the RV1 because Crumbelina was too lazy to get her kart when they started searching for Sour Bill.
Both: 🎵Treat yo self 2023!🎵
Crumbelina: Oh mod, is he eating cereal in a bench, in the afternoon? Alone? Rancis.
Rancis: *sighs* Fine.
Crumbelina gets out the kart and starts dashing and grabbing Sour Bill, Sour Bill in the other hand seems confused and tries to break lose, warning the president that he’s getting abducted. However when he did Vanellope wasn’t paying any attention, because the only thing she’s paying is the ice cream that she just got. (It’s rocky road)
Sour Bill: WOAH WOAH WOAH! HELP! IM GETTING ABDUCTED!!!
Vanellope walks out the ice cream store and sees Sour Bill being carried by Crumbelina, her eyebrows were raised.
Vanellope: Whatsup Crumbelina? Why are you taking away Sour Bill? He’s not off shift until 4.
The Tiramisu racer was going to explain, but the peanut butter racer did the job for her.
Rancis: Hey Nelly! Me and Crumbs are going to take Sour Bill to the mall for “Treat yo self” day. Care to join?
Crumbelina turns around: Rancis! We agreed to taking Sour Bill to our “treat yo self” day. Not your girlfriend, I know it can be more fun with her and all but how about you guys do this another day. Sour Bill NEEDS this!
Sour Bill: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!? VANELLOPE DO SOMETHING!
Vanellope: Thanks for the offer you two, but I got my own version of “treat yo self” this year. Ultimately this little sour ball needs it more than me. After all you have been feeling like a flat tire these past couple months.
Sour Bill: What? Never once did I ever been feeling like a “flat tire”.
The glitchy racer leans towards sour bill and looks him face to face. All the while, Crumbelina is carrying him like a basketball.
Vanellope: Oh really, then why are you eating cereal in the afternoon?
Sour Bill paused before he could even say anything.
Vanellope: You see, you probably skipped breakfast, and this is your way of making it up.
Rancis: Does this mean we get to take him? Or….
Vanellope: Yes, as the president of this game, you two gotta bring some life into this smushed wad. Tell me how it goes, as for you Sour Bill I command you to NOT try to run away from them, if you do I WILL cut your salary for today.
Sour Bill: WHAT! You can’t do this. I don’t want to hangout with these two. They’ll probably talk about teenage stuff that I’m not too fond of, there has to be another way!
Vanellope: Nope. I made up my mind when licking this ice cream.
During this was happening, crumbs moves over to the president and started to get concern.
Crumbelina whispering: Is this is your way of punishing others?
Vanellope whispering: Nah, I’m just being menacing on purpose, so he doesn’t try to do anything else.
Crumbelina whispering: Oh ok, just checking cuz I thought you were taking this whole thing a little too serious.
Vanellope whispering: Now when did I ever acted serious?
Crumbelina whispering: Pfff you’re so right.
Rancis: Are you two gonna keep this going or what?
Vanellope: We’re done!
Rancis: Nice, come on let’s go!
Vanellope walks up to Rancis window. While Crumbelina puts Sour Bill in the back and puts a baby seatbelt on him so he wouldn’t try to escape, she pats him in the head like if he was a baby. (He starred back) Crumbelina sits in front, puts on her seatbelt but not without hearing what Sour Bill had to say about all this.
Sour bill: Can I still have my cereal?
Crumbelina grabs the cereal and throws it without hesitation. The cereal manages to fall into a garbage can and it can be heard shattering when falling into impact.
Crumbelina: There will be enough food in the mall to make up for it. Trust me it’s for the better.
Crumbelina turns to look at Vanellope and see what she has to say before they leave.
Vanellope: Have fun you three, send me some pictures or videos if you can, also before you go, I’m giving you three some cash.
Crumbelina was excited when Vanellope took out the cash, she just loves money. Rancis was actually surprised he would get extra money from today, because he would rather waste his own money he earned over the past couple of days.
Rancis being confused: Huh? Why?
Crumbelina starring at the cash: Gimmie.
She was swiping her hands while vanny was explaining.
Vanellope: Cuz why not? It’s treat yo self day! You guys deserve it and I doubt that Sour Bill isn’t carrying money on him.
Crumbelina kept swiping her hands towards the cash in front of her, this manages to push back Rancis against his seat because she couldn’t resist The temptation of money.
Crumbelina: Gimmie, the, cash, Vanellope.
Vanellope: Slow your cinnamon roll there, Crumbs; take it easy!
Rancis unable to move: AH! Crumbelina your squishing me!
While Crumbelina was basically trying to snatch the cash from the president hands. Sour Bill was trying to get out the baby seat and felt uncomfortable due to the seatbelt being so tight.
It’s that today, TODAY. He’s being dragged to hangout with two racers that are friends of Vanellope, not just TWO racers, but the ones who’s are the most annoying.
(He just thinks these two are the worst ones)
There’s the vain one who doesn’t shut up about his looks or even anything at all, and there’s the posh one who really wants to get more money for the sake of having more money. Don’t even think about how he feels about the others. He’s being taken against his will all because he doesn’t seems happy, so the two weirdos are taking him out to “Treat Yo Self” day.
He managed to get no hope about all of this even when he was thinking about all the possibilities that can go right or wrong for today. Either way this will not treat him.
Rancis: Bye Nelly!
Crumbelina: See ya Vanilla stick!
Vanellope: Vanilla stick? That’s the 50th nickname I’ve been given these past couple of days.
Crumbelina: You’ve been counting?
Vanellope: Yep, there’s about 50 of them and my personal favorites are president boogerface, nelly, vanny, etc.
Rancis giving her a gaze: It’s nice to know the nicknames I gave to you are your favorite.
Vanellope giving him a gaze back: It’s nice to know your using the kart we made together.
The two starred at each other, both eyes sparking with love. Crumbelina looks at her phone to see that they are “running late” and sets the stick in reverse when those two were distracted making lovey dovey eyes. She wants this day to get started and she’s a bit impatient about it.
Crumbelina rushing her words: Oh wow! Would you look at the time, welp better get going! Thanks for the money, chit chat, all that. See yea!
Rancis being a bit uneasy: Um. Bye Nelly.
Vanellope backed away from the car and waves bye before leaving. She looks at her ice cream that melted, it got in her sleeve.
Vanellope: Aw ginger snap.
————
Rancis parks the car in front of the mall, Crumbelina walks out first and starts putting her sunglasses in her eyes even though it’s a cloudy day in Sugar Rush.
Crumbelina: Let’s go.
Both walk out forgetting Sour Bill is in the back. He starts to give both a deadpan stare before panicking.
————
Crumbelina: What store should we try out first.
Rancis: Only one way to find out.
The two start going into multiple stores which sold very stylish things that a teenager would buy. Sour Bill was dragged into the stores and was watching both trying out new clothes, he could just walk out any minute now; but he decides to stay with the clear mention of Vanellope threatening to cut his salary if he left. The thought left when the two outrageous racers walked out with the most expensive clothes that they absolutely love.
Crumbelina: I really want this dress, and I like the candy crystals but it’s expensive. And there’s no use for it. What should I do?
Rancis: Crumbs,
He shows off a cool outfit.
Rancis: Treat. Yo. Self.
————
Rancis: Velvet slippies, Cashmere socks, velvet pants, cashmere turtle. I’m a cashmere velvet candy cane.
Crumbelina grabbing Rancis by the shoulders: TREAT. YO. SELF.
Rancis smiles. Sour Bill doesn’t.
Sour Bill: This is insane.
————
The three finishes shopping and the two racers have multiple bags that they are carrying. Sour Bill has been walking around with them not getting anything but one bag.
Rancis: Man did you ever bought anything?
Sour Bill: Yeah I got these pair of socks.
Fluggerbutter looks at the bag and it’s just pairs of socks. He didn’t even know there was a sock size for Sour bills tiny bean-like structure.
Rancis: Pairs of socks? THATS NOT A TREAT.
He starts jumping to best friend’s arms, seeing that Crumbelina’s plan isn’t working and how Sour Bill was not even close to being selfish for the ONE SIGNALER DAY OF THE YEAR TO BE SELFISH.
Rancis: Crumbs! Get me away from him!
Crumbs looks at her best friend and tries to excuse Sour Bill reasonings onto why he choose to buy socks. Even though it’s a bit strange that he wears pairs in the first place.
Crumbelina: Maybe this is his version of Treat yo self day.
Rancis: What do you mean?
Crumbelina in a curious tone: Sour Bill if you had any money to blow out.
Sour Bill looking at the bag of socks.
Crumbelina: Not sock money. What would it be?
Sour Bill started thinking.
He started walking very fast when the thought hit him. The two racers were actually hyped about having to see what Sour Bill wanted to buy that makes him very happy. However we they went to the store Sour Bill told them to close their eyes until he goes to the changing room. The store they went to sold comics and outfits, both sitting down in front of the changing room, ready to see the reveal.
Sour Bill: You better not say anything.
He said when changing.
Rancis: We won’t.
Crumbelina: Oooooh, this is actually making me feel excited. Like I’m very hyped on what we’ll see.
Sour Bill: Alright. I’m re-ready…
Sour Bill walked out with a Iron man costume. He wore the helmet with it’s gloves and shoes.
(The helmet only fits him because he’s a sphere) 
The two were in shocked, Rancis put his hands between his cheeks with a very strong surprised expression. Crumbelina had no words but her best friend did.
Rancis: Oh my Mod! (x3)
THIS A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF NERD.
The green ball started blushing.
Sour Bill all nervous: Your right, this is ridiculous! What am I doing.
Rancis in a panicked tone: No! No! In a good way, Sour.
He goes on one knee and touches his helmet.
Rancis: Listen to me; You’re apart of the treat yo self team now. Ok? If that costume somehow makes you happy. Your going to buy it! And your going to wear it outta the store, ok? Your going to treat yourself!
Sour Bill: Yeah, you know what I’m going to do that. I’m going to treat myself. Thanks you two.
The two looked at each other giving a successful smile that reads “We just got this man to finally be happy.” The shiny hero, Sour bill started tearing up.
Sour Bill in the brink of sobbing: Thank you… I-I really needed this. I go- *sniff* going to treat myself…
Crumbelina: Uh Oh Iron man crying.
————
The three sat down in the public seats in the mall.
Crumbelina: What’s wrong?
Sour Bill: I’ve been overworking myself because I’ve working overtime because I want to be a loyal servant but not focusing on myself. Due to that I self sabotage in the process.
Crumbelina: That’s why Vanellope encourage the idea for you to come with us. She knew that you wouldn’t come in your own terms.
Rancis: Sorry, that you’ve been stretching your well-being like a gummy worm.
Crumbelina: Your already a loyal servant, Sour Bill. There’s no need for self sabotaging, cuz your perfect just the way you are. Your going to be ok.
Rancis: There’s Peep heads everywhere, Sour; as in mindless servants all around this all. They don’t have anything outside of their work at least you have some interest. You should ask Vanellope about how you’ve been and she’ll surely let you have a week off from work or more. But for now, let it out, treat yourself to a good cry if you have to.
Sour Bill: Thanks.
Rancis: One question though.
Sour Bill: What?
Rancis: I Am Groot!
Sour Bill smiles and sees that despite how he viewed these two, their not that bad.
————
From there on the three had some fun in the mall and bought some things that they really cherish and enjoy, and they very much took pictures of themselves with videos in mind.
They finish up shopping and drop off Sour Bill at the castle so he can tell Vanellope about him taking a break from work.
————
Vanellope: You want a break?
Sour Bill: Yes, and it’s because-
Vanellope: Hold your speech there, Greeny I’m guessing you need to get yourself a break because you realized self care is more important than working overtime. Am I striking the maple barrel?
Crumbelina and Rancis looking down at Sour bill: Yep.
Sour Bill, in a shy tone: Is that a yes?
Vanellope: Of course! You’ve been carrying my hardworking butt ever since I first became president. You deserve whatever long time you need to regenerate.
Sour Bill: What about you? Who’ll help you with the work?
Vanellope: I know I might get into sticky situations but I know I’ll glitch my way outta there. Besides you got a suit with a helmet that can definitely help you when you get into trouble.
The three laugh while Sour Bill cheers. First time Vanellope and the others heard from the ball, guess that treat yo self day works in a lot of ways and can surely bring enlightenment into those who really need it.
————
The end.
8 notes · View notes
zipndots · 3 months
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Saw the tags.
Here's an invitation to scream about the way people treat having a car/driver's license.
oh look at you, enabler you <33 (i literally moved to my pc so i can type this out just a smidge faster and more effectively. pardon any mistakes)
when my sibling was around my age, even a little younger, it got its permit. cool, right? soon enough my big sibling would be able to take me to school and get us food, i thought. its total driving time in its life is around. 4 hours? and thats me being generous.
fast forward ~8 years and im here with 4 hours of driving time under my own belt, hell, even my own car, because my sibling is physically disabled and i wanted to be able to help. thing is, i get so sick and dizzy behind the wheel out of anxiety that i literally cant go on an actual road without crying my eyes out and having a panic attack.
turns out my sibling was like that too, and thats why it had to stop trying.
my own reasoning to justify this anxiety and this sheer dread is because nobody can actually drive on the road here. i probably know the rules and laws of driving in my state (usamerican, sorry) than the majority of people licensed to drive here. you see people with bald tires flying down the highway at 80mph in blizzard conditions, half the time without their headlights, and no turn signal (either out of sheer laziness or because it is broken). do you know how many people on the road are willingly operating a 2 ton hunk of metal so irresponsibly? too many. too fuckin many. i, as a pedestrian, have accepted the fact that despite having right of way across a street that isnt even busy, will more than likely be run over on a normal day because nobody pays attention to their surroundings.
im constantly hounded by my own mother, who says she understands my feelings and anxieties around driving, on when im going to finally start driving and why i keep avoiding it etc etc etc. she doesnt want to teach me because it scares her. my dad doesnt want to teach me because he doesnt have the time (fair, hes a really busy man). my sibling literally cant walk half the time let alone drive. anyone else i dont trust to be in a car with without holding the "oh shit" handle because theyre impatient, irresponsible, and dont even know how to drive safely themselves.
i cant get a job where im living right now. i just recently learned i have some really bad asthma and that paired with dry air, intense weather (below zero temps in winter, above 100 in summer), and going uphill prevents me from commuting to anywhere close. there was a bus stop once upon a time, but they apparently got rid of it in the route, but never bothered to actually get rid of the stop, so the closest bus stops in either direction are uphill and over a mile away, and i genuinely just dont have the right metabolism to endure that.
every time i mention that to somebody, they always, without fail, say "why dont you just drive?" oh, gee, i dont know, probably the fact that i dont feel safe in something that can easily crush me, next to people operating the same machines unsafely and irresponsibly, and have seen first-hand how bad user error can destroy many peoples lives? combined with the fact that i simply prefer being a pedestrian?
the US is so abysmal when it comes to road safety and accessible sidewalks that its almost so funny it makes me want to cry. i feel disgusting having to use a ride share app or call a taxi and waste 40 bucks on a 20 minute ride because either there isnt a safe bus route/walkway or the route that takes me there via bus takes over three hours, taking up the majority of my day. efficient and safe transport here is so fucking awful and of course they wont fund any improvement on it because they dont see a profit to it. because of cars.
i dont even know how to end this rant. im just pissed off more and want to burn down my local government buildings.
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4ng3l-0n-34rth · 2 years
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Restless // steve harrington x reader drabble
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a/n: hi guys!! i am oh so tired and sleep deprived so instead of sleeping im writing a short fic for no one but myself… but im also posting it. i truly am sorry if this is horrible i actually haven’t slept in 36 hours. OH AND PT 2 OF INTIMIDATED IS IN THE WORKS!!!
summary: you’re steve’s partner and after seemingly getting no sleep for a few night, he begins to grow concearned
warnings: mild swearing
enjoy!!
1,552 words
You were tired and there was no denying it, but for some reason the past few nights sleep was coming by scarcely. Sure you couldn’t think of a logical explanation as to why, however you weren’t falling asleep and it was beginning to become an issue. You began falling asleep at ungodly hours, if you even slept at all, and it was driving you crazy.
You continued to go on with your daily life half-asleep and although it was a little more difficult, there was nothing you could do about it. As you got out of bed after laying there for hours, with nothing to do but toss and turn with hopes of falling asleep, you could feel your body react to the lack of sleep. Your limbs were endlessly sore and you felt as if the more you kept walking the closer you were to just collapsing entirely. After getting yourself dressed and ready to begin another long and exhausting day, you walked to the kitchen to throw some food together before you left for work.
Work was never unbearable since you enjoyed your job at Family Video, but acting like you were perfectly rested for Steve and Robin made it a little more difficult. You hauled yourself to your car and began your quick drive, feeling your eyelids grow heavy at any moment you didn’t have your full undivided attention on the road. As you pulled in to the employees lot, you notice a familiar car pull into the space next to you, and an undeniable head of hair come out of it. Seeing Steve always brought a smile to your face, even when you felt like you were on the verge of completely falling apart.
As you got out of your car you moved as if your limbs weren’t your own. Your motions were sluggish and lazy as you headed toward the back door of the establishment, waving to your boyfriend as he waited in place for you to catch up to him. The smile he gave in return didn’t hold up for long due to the fact that as you got closer the bags under your eyes grew more visible, even with the attempt of covering them up with some makeup before you left the house. “Hey, Y/N. You sleeping ok?” he asked out of concern. The same question he has asked the past few days prior, and of course your shot back the same response you always did. “Never better!” you tried to give your best convincing smile as you picked up your pace heading inside to be greeted by Robin, who had already started preparing to open the store.
“Hey Robin!” you tried your best to say cheerily, and the girl peeled her focus from the tapes she had been putting on shelves to you, and Steve who now stood behind you. “Well if it isn’t the dynamic duo!” she cheers walking up to the both of you. As she got closer she immediately grabbed your face and inspected it closely. “Not to be rude or anything, but are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? The bags under your eyes have grown from cary-on’s to check-in’s…” she stated, giving a sympathetic smile. You just nodded and moved from her grasp. “Like i just told Steve, never better,” you sighed, too exhausted to try and sound like your usual upbeat self.
You brushed passed the two and walked straight to one of the computers, doing your daily check for overdue, or almost due returns, writing down all the account names and numbers so you would remember to call before the end of your shift. As you continued to search through dates, Robin anxiously glanced to Steve then tried to signal to him that she was worried about you. Steve pretended to clear his throat, “Uh Robin you don’t happen to know where the water bottles in the back are do you?” and with that he had grabbed her and pulled her into the back room with him, now out of earshot of you.
“I’m not going crazy right? Y/N looks like they haven’t slept in a millennia.” Steve muttered, looking to Robin for some sort of confirmation. “Anyone and their grandmother could tell there’s something going on.” Is all she replied with, leaning on the wall behind her. “And i understand if she doesn’t wanna talk about it, but i doubt she should be working right now.” Robin finished. “I know right!” he said a little louder than he would’ve liked, but you were so out of it you hardly even noticed they were no longer chatting behind you. Steve stepped a little closer to Robin so he could speak quieter. “What should we do? What should I do?” he almost whispered, as his mind raced. All he could think about was all the terrible possibilities that could lead toward your current state. “Like I'm supposed to know! You’re the one dating them,” she sighed.
They both sat in silence for a moment, considering all of their options, until Steve’s face lit up as he had an idea he was sure would work to get to the bottom of this. Robin looked up to him in anticipation, waiting for him to spill whatever ‘genius’ plan he had just now concocted. “Well my parents are never home what if we just ask to have a sleepover? I mean if she’s spending the night with us she’s sure to crack. Right?” he asked pleadingly, hopeful that if Robin agreed this may actually work.
“That may not be a horrible idea…” she paused to think for a moment. “But! it’s obviously been a long week for her, maybe you should just do it on your own? I mean if i were here i’d love nothing more than to cuddle up to my handsome boyfriend and finally fall asleep after being away for decades.” She spoke seriously up until her last sentence, switching to a mole joking tone hugging herself and swaying when she mentioned ‘cuddling up to their handsome boyfriend.’ “Robin this is serious! I’m really worried.” Steve pleaded, only to receive a slight chuckle and nod from Robin. After shooting her a serious glance, she had stood up straight and moved her hands fo his shoulders. “This is me being serious Steve, I think what Y/N needs right now is a calm night with you.” she stated firmly, and Steve nodded in agreement. “Sleepover it is!”
As the both of them returned to the front of the store, both sets of eyes landed on you. Slumped over the counter, your head lazily resting in your palm as you stared off in the distance. Steve swiftly walked up behind you and placed a hand on your lower back. “Hey, love. Do you maybe wanna crash at my place tonight? I’ll get take out and we can watch whatever movie you want!” He spoke to you cheerfully. You stayed in the position you were already in, debating on how you should respond to the offer. “Oh i don’t know Steve…” You mumbled, and he placed his hand on your cheek turning you to face him as he leaned in closer. “C’mon babe, I’m like soooooo missing out on my Y/N time right now, and I’d love to have you over.” he begged, and who were you to turn down such an adorable pout. With a groan you respond, “Sure Steve, I don’t see why not.” you replied, bringing your focus back to your job, instead of looking dazed out the window.
Of course that wasn’t the exact answer he had hoped to hear from you, since he was truly being honest when he said he needed some ‘quality Y/N time’, but it was a yes nonetheless, and with that he was content.
The rest of work flew by particularly fast, partially because in the state you were in you had almost completely lost your grasp of time, but even more than that you were eager to get the hell out of there. As the three of you finished closing up, Steve outstretched a hand to you. “Your chariot awaits,” he joked, and you looked up to him confused. “Oh come on, let me drive you we can pick up your car in the morning.” He smiled sweetly, still waiting for you to place your hand in his, and after pausing for a moment you took his hand and headed out the door. You both said your goodbyes to Robin then loaded into Steve’s car.
The drive to Steve’s was peaceful. Your head rested tiredly on the back of your seat as you looked out the window, while Steve’s hand rested on your lap. As you pulled into the drive way, you could feel yourself get blinded by the light he had in his driveway, covering your sore tired eyes with a hand, looking away. Steve couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fact you appeared to be acting as if everything was normal, yet clearly were in pain from how much you needed some rest.
He quickly got out of the car and went around to your door, opening it for you and allowing you to step out. You weren’t on your feet for long due to the fact once you were steady Steve scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the door. You couldn’t help but giggle as he lifted you off the ground. “Steve what are you doing?” you ask, pressing your head into his chest, allowing him to feel the vibration from your laughs throughout his whole body. “Can’t I treat my love like a princess from time to time?” You just keep your head buried in his chest as he takes you to the door, fumbling with the keys in his pocket for a moment before getting the door open.
As he carries you inside he remains careful of how he's walking with you in his arms, walking sideways to fit through narrow halls and what not until he reaches his room. Steve places you down on his bed ever so gently and kneels down to you, removing your shoes before tucking you under the covers. "Steve I can take my own shoes off y'know" you mutter, confused as to why he's treating you like this. He quickly moved to your bedside, sitting down in the open space next to you, and rubbing up and down your arm with his hand. "Look, i totally understand if somethings bothering you and you don't want to talk about it, but Y/N I can tell how tired you've been, and I just want you to be able to relax and get some rest." he admits sheepishly, sending you the warmest and most comforting smile he could muster.
You reached up to his face, resting a hand on either side as you pulled him in for a quick kiss, and he obviously longed for more due to the fact he remained in the same spot once you pulled away. "I'm sorry i haven't been honest about it, but in all honestly I don't know what the issue is. These past few nights I've just been so restless. Every night, tired as ever, I'll try and fall asleep but i just find myself tossing and turning until the sun rises." you looked down to you lap, fiddling with the blanket Steve had draped over your body. Now it was his turn to cup your cheek, and stare happily into your eyes. "Thank you for letting me know love. I'm sorry you've been struggling and I didn't try and help sooner, but I'm here now, and I can assure you that laying in my arms has never failed to lull you to sleep." He grinned confidently, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Now how about we get you changed out of your work clothes and just skip the movie and get some rest? Does that sound good?" he asked calmly, not wanting to push too far, but hoping you would let him just help you sleep.
You nodded and rose from the bed, helping yourself to Steve's dresser drawers. Wearing his close wasn't a strange occurrence, and if anything he loved seeing you pick out whichever shirt or sweater of his looked the most comfortable and slipping off your clothes to replace them with his. He found comfort in you, and tonight he was praying to whatever god is out there that you would be able to find comfort in him and get a good nights rest. Once you were changed you looked over to your boyfriend, just staring up to you in adoration from his seat on the bed. "As much as I love you Steve, I don't want to lay on your scratchy work shirt." You giggled, tossing him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to change into as well. "Oh right, sorry." he meekly grinned and took the clothes to change into.
Once you were both prepped and ready to sleep, you couldn't help but to throw yourself onto Steve's comfy bed, relishing in the scent of it, the scent of him. You hadn't realized how much you missed laying in bed with him, how much you missed being near him, and so you were forever grateful he decided to speak up and ask you to come over. Steve had turned off the lights in the room, then proceeded to get under the covers next to you, immediately bringing you into his chest. You happily allowed him to pull you closer as you got comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The soothing sound of his heartbeat, and the slow rise and fall of his chest was pure bliss, and you couldn't believe you hadn't wanted to stay over sooner.
As your eyes fluttered shut for the final time that day, Steve had one hand rubbing soft circles into your back, and the other was brushing his fingers though your hair. As the rest of the world faded out all you could do was sense him. The gentle movements of his hands, the beating in his chest, the small and simple sweet nothings he whispered to you, and the gentle kisses he occasionally placed on your head. And it was as if a miracle had come to life, and you found yourself sunken into a deep and peaceful sleep with the man you love.
Steve was your miracle, and he loved you.
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therealpontius · 1 year
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BBQ (pt4) ~ skate park pontius
Plot: chris needs alittle help…
Warnings: wound
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You drive home in silence, the house was ten minutes away yet it felt ten hours. the way chris was so horrible to ehren was like he was trying to show off to you, his smile was so... sweet? You felt bad for not going out with him and steve-o tonight, youll message him when you get home to apologise... you cant believe you said that to johnny 'i thought it was you so i didnt say anything' "im Litterally so embarrassed holy shit."
You arrive at your drive through and walk in the door "im so tired" you said to yourself and dragged your feet upstairs, you didnt even bother to take of my makeup or clothes, slowly drifting off to the faint sound of cars passing the road and the rain just starting to hit your window
*Ping*
You jump out your skin as your phone vibrates on the dresser "who is it now" you say annoyingly, reaching for your phone
[you have 1 new message from "playgirl pontius"]
You giggle seeing his contact name but open your phone anyways
"Hey y/n im in a bit of a situation"
"Hey chris, are you okay?"
"I was skating in the skate park alone and ive fell and cut my knee bad"
You wouldve thought he was used to this shit...
"Shit! Are any of the boys coming down to get you?"
"No they are all drunk or too lazy, would you? You could just take me home"
'GOD LET ME SLEEP'
"Yes ofc just send me the address ill be a good 6 minutes"
Well great your too fucking tired, you drag yourself out of bed once again and get your car keys and head to the skate park hes in. You look around the dark street and see a black silhouette of a tall man with short buzzed hair, there he is. You slowly get out the car and head towards the black figure, it was so cold. "Chris?" The silhouette turns around and walks under the street lamp "hey y/n! Sorry to drag you out so late" he said looking more nervous than usual. You looked down at his leg to see a cut, quite deep but definitely not one hes never had before. "do you wanna just relax before we head?" He said pointing to a small bench "but your cut looks pretty bad?" As much as youve saw one like this you were still worried "i can deal with it" he said cockily and linked arms with yours walking over the the bench, you sat down but it felt so... intimate? You weren't scared of this thought.. you slowly moved closer to him and rested your head on his sholder for a while and let out a huge yawn "im sorry your so tired do you want to go the now?" You had a thought about it but were so comfy, he was so warm, just like a hot water bottle "im comfy but we can leave the now if your wanting to go look after your leg?" You said sleepily looking up at him "well okay maybe we should probably go and clean it" you both stood up and headed towards your car and got in.
He buckles his seat belt and looks over at you "thankyou y/n seriously i dont know what I would do without you" he smiled at you and looked forward out the window " yeah no problem i hope i didnt make you uncomfy by lying on your sholder im just tired and cold" he shook his head " no not at all" he patted your leg in reassurance. You put on misfits and both sang along in attempt to wake you up. Hes a good singer.
You drop him off at his house "do you want to come in? I know your tired but i might need a hand with my leg" you rolled your eyes and laughed "thats just an excuse for company" you got out the car and followed him to his door, singing misfits worked you felt more awake "i hope my house isnt too messy" you looked around and saw a few cans of beer in the living room and a few pairs of boxers lying at the bottom of the steps "ive been a bit buisy with jackass right now ive not had enough time to clean" he said anxiously "chris i dont care about your house im just worried about the cut, go sit ill get a wet cloth and plasters"
You returned to the living room five minutes later and he was sitting on the couch, you could tell he was tired "right lets get started" you kneel down at his legs and start cleaning the blood with a damp peice of toilet paper "augh" he winced and threw his head back but it didnt stop you from cleaning it, just wanting to go to bed "you doing great chris" you picked up the wet towel and prepared him "deep breaths" you touched the exposed wound with the wet towel to try stop any infection, your not a professional "fuck ouch" chris's head jerked forward and he looked in so much pain, maybe it was worse than you thought. You lightly placed a large plaster over the cut and heard him sigh in relief .
You looked up at him and smiled "well done you done great" he weakly laughed " what time is it" he rubbed his eyes and sat up, you stood up and checked your watch "its eleven, only eleven? Jesus" you slumped next to him "we must be getting old" he giggled and turned to you and you made a fake sad face " i need to drive home now" he made the fake sad face back "how long is that?" "Like 20 minutes" he sat up and looked deep in though "you can just stay here, have a shower in the morning if you need one and borrow my clothes?" You cant even argue against that, your too tired to drive " okay sure ill sleep on the couch" he nodded and left to go up to his room "goodnight!" You heard him shout down and you fell asleep immediately.
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csmeaner · 2 years
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Design Shitting: Obscure Edition
Meet the Lumenfox! They’re usually not too expensive in large part due to their obscurity. I stumbled upon these by accident and it seems their defining trait is the majority of them being over-designed.
Last shit for a week or so after this. Gotta go out of town.
https://www.deviantart.com/lumenfox
For example: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/closed-ty-special-summer-event-auction-754675390
it’s the whole freaking package of mediocrity. i could dunk on this species all day but it’s basically the same as every other middling quadraped species. they honestly slapping on shit for the sake of having shit without a single thought on how it would look overrall. it’s truly the lazy weeb’s sparkledog and the obvious asian shit slapped around is borderline racist in its ignorant portrayals. there’s so much shit everywhere to pretend that there’s an actual design to look at and once you peel that away all you get is a dog with broken wings and gross gradient hair without a cohesive light source. if you look at the page all it talks about is how it’s a species and it’s closed and only the owner can make them and here’s links to other sites the species is on. I searched but there’s very little actual worldbuilding all the effort is on getting people to actually buy these bargain bin rejects. despite trying to look more stereotypically asian than a fortune cookie the species currency is called quantums for some unfathomable reason
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Toxic fumes: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/HALLOWEEN-LumenFox-Adopt-for-WorldOfXaunus-715549255
just an enormous fart cloud obscuring most of the body and veering into the opposite direction of looking way too lazy. Just green splotches thrown all over and some crystal shit that shares the same texture what a fucking dreaaaaamm/s
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The head is turned in profile towards the end of the body. You’re welcome. https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/CLOSED-TY-Special-summer-Event-Auction-756867481
thanks for the heads up because without zooming in it’s impossible to tell what’s going in. I actually like the idea of the fireworks but it falls flat on everything else from the obvious stamp brushes to the shitton of useless crap on its body. without all the junk it’s a thoughtlessly plain design that doesn’t read well. even the ab of 68$ feels too much for what can be boiled down to a blue dog with corn in its ears
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FLY, FUCKER, FLY. https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/CLOSED-Legendary-SV-special-Lumenfox-Auction-830590687
truly i ask what giving it a dress and heart chains adds to anything other than take up space. adding more shit does not make a better design and i’m sorry elnins convinced you that was true. the tails are shaded differently that they don’t look attached at all, and the heart chains look thrown on last minute. it’s actually fine without the clothing and extra shit and i’m surprised we jumped from an ab of 68 to 350 in just two years despite no increase in quality whatsoever. get that bread i guess
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View at full size to find the face: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/CLOSED-Legendary-June-Lumenfox-Auction-846905527
im so tired of people throwing in random shit just to make a design feel fancier. the fuck are the jellyfish for when it’s already a huge cluttered mess of swirls and overlay textures? i can’t even tell that it’s wearing something. pet peeve but the names are so uninspiring try a little harder
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The wings are just the start for this one: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/CLOSED-Easter-Lumenfox-Auction-911707165
give me back the road trip one because at least with all the extra shit it’s obvious they at least tried. it’s the same four-ish colors repeated over themselves ad nauseum with over inflated tail and wings and hair with just the laziest attempt at a background and a thousand watermarks stapled on. it’s cluttered in a lazy way, adding detail for the sake of detail with no actual thought behind it
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Zoom in on the eyes. This thing is as dead inside as we are: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshimiko-adopts/art/OPEN-Legendary-Primordial-Lumenfox-Summer-auct-918883322
aaaand we’ve gone back to landfill levels of shit thrown around. from the stupid fucking fish on the wing tips to the wreathe on the tail to the fucking trident placed behind it and a thousand brush stamps. it’s not going to cover up that this thing is a hundred layers of gradients and sparkles and gross sea dragon looking wings. the fucking title is off center and that’s super fucking annoying to look at too that’s just bad design plain and simple. i know im ripping into this species really hard compared to others but this really is a good example of how cs makes people shit out design after design and try to make it as cluttered as possible to earn its keep like there is a middle ground and they fucking missed it not to mention all the other problems this failure of a species has.
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nmikaelsonimagines · 3 years
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Sweet Creature: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine
Request from Anon: hiii, soo I wanted to make a request and I would appreciate so much if you could write it bc im too lazy to and I really love this idea. It’s actually inspired by the song “Sweet Creature” by Harry Styles, mostly from Klaus pov but whatever you want🙃🙃thank youu
So, I’ve just launched my Elijah blog which you can find over at @emikaelsonimagines​! Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 
Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:
Sweet Creature
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Sweet creature Had another talk about where it's going wrong But we're still young
Klaus Mikaelson had never been very good at relationships.
The flirting, those first few dates, he was pretty sure he had down to a tee. But the parts after, the relationship, the commitment, the idea of the future, he had never been able to make that last.
It wasn’t his fault all the time. It could be his siblings, his father, the nature of who and what he was causing some threat to find the woman he had chosen to fall for and destroy her.
He kept telling himself that he had all the time in the world to figure it out, to find something that would last. He was blessed with being young forever, after all. But when he looked at Y/N Y/L/N, it felt like he didn’t have any time at all.
It felt like he needed to have her now, to hold onto her for as long as her human lifespan would allow. Time threatened to escape him completely, which made the job of wooing her all the more arduous.
He had always been good at that part, always been good at making women blush, making them want him. But with her, with Y/N, it seemed that even that skill had eluded him.
We don't know where we're going But we know where we belong
Klaus Mikaelson had never felt like he was desperate.
But with Y/N Y/L/N, with her constant resistance of his charms, he felt like he was clinging onto something that didn’t exist. He liked to have a plan, liked to feel in control, but with her, with his need for her, he was lost.
He didn’t have a clue where his attempts would lead him, whether she would ever give into him. He was tired of the small, sympathetic smile she gave him, tired of the way she made him feel – pathetic.
But he loved it too.
When he was with Y/N, he knew he belonged with her, knew that whatever happened he would make sure that she never disappeared from his life. So in response to that smile, he gave her one back, and for the first time, he saw her eyes widen, heard her heart beat that little bit faster.
He’d been trying to charm her for three months now, and this was the first time he had ever felt like he had the upper hand.
He watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear, and if he looked at her in the right way, he swore he could see a tinge of red in her cheeks.
And, oh, we started Two hearts in one home
Klaus Mikaelson had never felt his undead heart beat as fast as it did when Y/N Y/L/N walked over to him.
It wasn’t the first time they had spoken, wasn’t the first time she had looked at him like he wasn’t a monster, like he was just a normal man trying to get a date with a beautiful woman.
But it was the first time she hadn’t told him to stop trying, to back off, to leave her alone because she wasn’t interested. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t actually said those words, but from the beginning, Klaus had been able to read them in her eyes, noticed how the letters threatened to fall from her lips.
He could still hear her heart beating, and as she got closer, he could see that tinge of red in her cheeks. Her hair had fallen back into her face, and Klaus thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
He wondered what it would be like to wake up to her every morning, in a house that they owned together, making it a home.
It was a future he wanted to hold onto, and for a moment, he dared to believe he could.
It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn, I know But oh
Klaus Mikaelson had never been lost for words before.
Y/N Y/L/N pulled out the chair opposite him, and he felt her knees knock against his under the table as she sat down. He said nothing, wondering what she was doing, why she was here.
She was stubborn, he knew that, one that would never stray away from the path that she had set upon. She had that look in her eyes now, and he knew that whatever she was planning on saying to him, she would say it without hesitation.
She was like him in that respect, Klaus thought, smiling.
“Hello.” Y/N looked over at him, the sound of her voice music to his ears. But he didn’t let himself dream for long. She had rejected him for three months now, and he didn’t expect anything less this time around. “Klaus, can I ask you something?”
His mouth dry, words having escaped him, Klaus nodded.
“Why are you so interested in me? I mean, I’m just – I’m just me.”
No, Klaus thought. She wasn’t just her. She was so much more than that. It hurt him to see her thinking that, and without thinking himself, Klaus reached out and put his hand over hers.
Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home
Klaus Mikaelson had never been more relieved than he was when Y/N Y/L/N didn’t move her hand away.
He searched her eyes, made her meet his gaze and as he met an array of colours that would have been difficult to replicate with all the artistic talent in the world, he found that the ability to speak returned to him.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” he used her full name, letting it roll off his tongue with ease, “you are so much more than just you. You’re beautiful, kind, gentle, fierce, stubborn, empathetic. And I am interested in you because of all those things and more. You have this ability to make anyone feel safe, to make even me feel safe.”
Y/N dipped her head, and Klaus was certain that she was blushing now. His heart rate accelerated as finally – finally – Y/N was slowly giving into his charms. He couldn’t help the next words that came out of his mouth. “Come to dinner with me.”
Y/N looked up at a statement she had heard from him dozens of times. She had refused at every previous opportunity, or had thrown him that sympathetic smile. Klaus should have expected her to refuse again, but there was something in the air that made him feel that this time would be different.
Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home
Klaus Mikaelson had never been more in love than in that moment.
He had fallen for countless women over the centuries, knew what it was to feel loss, to feel heartbreak, but he had never glimpsed the future that could have awaited him had he held onto his partners.
He had never felt that he could be good at relationships, never felt so desperate to have someone, never felt his heart beat this fast, never been so lost for words, never felt so relieved.
He had never felt like he was truly at home.
But all that changed with the arrival of a single word. Three letters that fell from the lips of Y/N Y/L/N, lips that he ached to kiss, his hand still covering hers, his thumb absentmindedly running over her knuckles.
Three months of trying had come to this. It had come to a request from him, and a single answer from her.
And that answer was yes.
Masterlist
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rintarhue · 3 years
Text
instant boyfriend ✆ 018 / waterproof
➪ MAIN MENU | PREVIOUS | NEXT
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“The challenge is to go to a place that holds a memory?” You read off from your phone, your tone laced with uncertainty. You and Rintaro have been walking around the streets for half an hour now, passing by numerous buildings, people, and of course, cute pets. Yet, the two of you are still unsure of where to go.
“They should be more specific,” he rolls his eyes. What the fuck, he’s getting more personality now. “Do they think we’re some kind of robot? The fuck?”
You stifle a laugh, as you punch his strong bicep. “You are a robot, Rin.”
A lazy smile quirks up from his lips. He then takes your hand in his, swinging it around. Whenever you hold hands with him, a warm unexplainable feeling grows in your chest. Your eyes widen, your lips dry up, and you are left with a fast running heartbeat. It was as if Rintaro knew his effects on you, and you don’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.
The two of you let your feet wander around more until Rintaro suddenly halts. The first droplet of the rain falls on your nose, kissing your skin softly. He puts both his hands on your shoulder, turning you to look at him. The people around you then start to run to seek cover, as the rain throws its tears down the road. 
He wraps his strong arms around you, steadying you a bit. You look up at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. The volume of your skipping heart was a tad bit too loud, for your liking. ‘I like him! I know that! I get it!’ You grumble, internally. ‘Now stop beating so fast.’
“You’re waterproof, right?”
“I’d be long dead if I weren’t, Y/N.”
“Just making sure, I don’t want you to explode.”
“You literally squirt your—”
Your laugh cuts him off. The heartiness of it made his lips curve up even more. Rintaro takes his hand and places it on his chest—it’s beating too fast. Is this normal for a simple robot like him? A mere structure created by another human being?
Rintaro’s gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth. You don’t notice this, as your eyes crinkle, still focused on laughing your heart out. This sight of you being happy lifted him; he was tired of seeing you in pain, you don’t deserve to be feeling that emotion all the time. All he wants is for you to always have a genuine smile painted on your face or a joyful laugh echoing through the room—for you to be genuinely happy.
“I found the place for this Butterfly challenge,” he takes his hand from his chest and ups your face instead. “My special place is you. You are my home. Wherever you are, a memory is always created.”
This time, the sky isn’t the only one crying.
Unknown to the both of you, a heartbroken part-timer sees this whole interaction, as he stands quietly under the park’s roof. He clutches his phone in his hand, shaking in the coldness of the rain and the coldness of his heart, as well.
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— BARKS!
— i want him Soooooo bad. this shit isnt fair 😐
— also im watching mha rn and i Just... WHIDJDKDEHAKSKDDNNENDMDJDMSKWDNDNWNWMDMJDNDNEMWMEJDNDNSNAMDBDNENENWMWMSDKDNDMQKKDKDKDKEKWLWJDD ok bye
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taglist in the reblogs <3 send an ask or message me to be added!
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angloie · 3 years
Text
Kitten
"I found this little thing on the side of the road!"
solangelo + fluff!
warnings: swearing, my hasty writing.
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Even before the rain, Nico was having a pretty shitty day.
Well, actually, for him everyday was a sort of bad day. Muscles sore from training, headaches from shadowtraveling- dont even get him started on the ignorant lady he bumped into on his way to get some food. It was a shame, really. Nico was scowling so hard at the fact that his mood was ruined without food. Frenchfries? Hamburgers? Chicken nuggets?? Gone.
It was just pretty peachy that he was drenched from the downpour of rain, right?
"Im home," Nico announces when he opens the door. Shoes padded down on the newly soaked ground. His scowl only deepened. "Will?" He calls out when he hears no reply.
Radio silence. 
"Mmphh! Ha ha! Q-quit moving," A familiar voice muffles from the other room. That must be him, Nico thinks.
A quiet question pops into his head about Will, his boyfriend, having some sort of affair. Then he’s reminded by the fact that Will is very much a dork and would have ahard time finding anyone else. That's pretty reassuring. 
"Hey, Will," Nico knocks on the wooden door. A strained laugh, and then more muffled noises. He narrows his eyes.
“I’ll be there in a sec!” Will shouts as footsteps shuffle on the hardwood floor. “Gah!” He opens the door, face only thing visible. The rest of the room is covered by the barrier of wood.
“Welcome home!” Will smiles brightly. Gosh, Nico could never get tired of it. Unlucky of him, before Nico can smile back, a crash is heard from inside the room.
“Hm?” He tries to peek in. Will blocks his sight with his body. “What’s going on in there?”
“N-nothing, love, it's nothing,” The blonde laughs nervously. At that point, another chorus of crashes begins. “Shit.” He mutters under his breath.
“Are you sure?” 
“Yep!”
You're a horrible liar. Nico wants to say. 
“I heard that, you brat!”
He wedges his foot in the crack of the door, wedging it open. Will pushes back lightly, the nervous look in his eyes intensifying. Weird.
“I’m coming in.” He eyes Will. “Since there's 'nothing'.”
“No! You really, really, don't wanna do that.” Will avoids Nico's gaze, a bullet of sweat running down his forehead. Now that he thinks about it, was Will out in the rain too? His orange shirt was a bit damp. So was his hair.
Nico might be on the small side, but boy can he pack a shove. Not enough so that he injured Will, but enough to knock the door open wide. He thinks the door might've flewn of it's hinges.
“I wouldn't recommend tha-" The son of Apollo tries to reasonate before he scans his eyes in the surrounding area. Okay, there's books scattered everywhere- some of Will's medschool books- a shattered glass pot, water spilled on the ground, and- is that-
Meooow!
A cat?
“I found it on the side of the road, and,” Will makes hasty hand gestures, trying to come up with something. “It was cold, so I just-”
“Its cute,” Nico walks past the shattered glass and who knows what. He just hoped there's no cat poop. Gross.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I... Just didn't think you were the type to be interested in stuff like that. You know, fluffy and cute kittens. Mr. King of Ghosts.” He tilts his head to the side in wonder, watching Nico pick it up and pat it on the head. The kitten, a mix of white, brown and black mewls in response. It's whiskers brush against his pale hand.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! turns out you are!” He smiles. “Aww, my wittle Nico has a soft spot,” 
Nico blushes, but doesn't argue further nor does he disagree.. “So what?” The tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink, a drastic change from the ghostly pale.
“Nothing. It's cute. You're cute. And by the way- You have a name for it or something?”
The kitten mewls again as Nico pats it, him contemplating ideas in his head. He looks over to Will. He's blushing, a lazy smile plastered on his face. 
“Can we even take care of it?”
“Um, I bought some stuff before you came, actually. A litterbox, food, water bowl and some milk formula. The basics.” Will walks over from the doorway to him. “We can always ask Frank to do is a little favour.”
“Gods, please don't put that image in my head.” He rolls his eyes. “How about...” Nico holds up the kitten. It's eyes blink at him. “Acinonynx?”
“Yeah, I have no idea what you just said.”
“Then I guess Mr. Cuddles will do.” The newly named Mr. Cuddles jumps out of the boy's grasp, opting to jump out of the warmth and into a glass-coated floor instead of staying put. 
“I don’t think so, Mr. Cuddles!” Will catches it before it reaches the ground, the both of them sighing in relief. “Before we do anything else.. we gotta clean up.” He says shakily.
“On it.”
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wisewidow · 4 years
Text
Cloudy With A Chance Of Assassination
PAIRING: Yelena Belova x Reader
SUMMARY: My new girlfriend takes meeting the relatives to a whole new level.
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It's cloudy up ahead, but patches of sunlight leak through certain gaps like chinks in the sky's armour, and a warm silver lines the clouds as the sun sets behind them. There are no pink or orange hues in the sunset this cloudy evening, just tinted blue and cream with grey mountains in the distance and muted coloured trees at their bases. I have one hand on the wheel of the car Yelena and I just bought together, a sleek black Fiesta, and the other on my partner in crime's thigh. She has her window rolled down, the high speed we're going at blowing her golden hair everywhere. I drum my fingertips along the wheel as an upbeat song starts to play.
She's lost in the clouds, I can tell. I ask her if she's imagining pictures out of the white puffs, but either the roaring wind at one ear or the song at her other is blocking her from hearing my words.
I squeeze her thigh. She smacks my hand and glances sideways at me, mossy green eyes playful. I allow myself a single glance before looking back at the road. "I asked what you're seeing in the clouds."
She turns the radio dial down. "What?"
I snort. "Nevermind."
"You wanted attention?"
I flip her the bird, earning a boisterous laugh from her. "You were!"
I mimic her accent in a high-pitched voice. "You were totally like, give me attention! Because I'm Yelena Belova and I'm so special!"
"I don't sound like that," she objects. "You once said, and I quote, 'your voice is deep and sexy, like if a dressage horse could speak.'"
I frown. "I don't remember that. Was I drunk?"
"You were trying to outdrink me."
"Oh. Were you cheating? I don't black out that easily."
"No, I wasn't. And yes, you do."
I grumble and turn the radio up again. She hums along to the song, Snap Out Of It by the Arctic Monkeys. We drive until the sun goes down, or at least until I notice her energetic nature die down like a used battery. I search up the nearest motel on my phone and by the time I've pulled in, she's asleep.
I switch the engine off and relax into my seat. I allow myself a few seconds to admire the girl beside me.
I met her through a friend of mine, who lived in the apartment beside hers. I'd visit frequently, and she noticed and eventually grew tired of me oggling her everytime I passed her on the way out. So she coerced me into drinking too much red wine and then sent me over to her door, drunk and giggling.
I didn't know much about her past. She's from Russia, and she sometimes jokes that she's actually a trained assassin. She grew up in a foster home, got close with a girl named Natalia, who ended up living in the Big Apple as a high school teacher with a husband who renovates houses. She calls her every other week before bed, I think, when I spend the night and she thinks I'm asleep. I never hear what they're saying, but I enjoy falling into slumber listening to the soft hum of her voice through the plaster walls.
I admire her small, round, button nose, the even slope of her jawline, her long lashes that brush against her subtly tanned skin. We've only been dating for two months, but I'm positive I'm im love with her. We haven't exchanged those words yet, though. The car is actually our first and only big step.
I gently shake her shoulders to wake her up, and she grumbles sleepily as she shifts and peeks up at me. "Where are we?"
"Motel. Didn't feel like driving home. Come on, lazy bones, let's get you a pillow."
Once we're settled in a room, stripped of jeans and bras so we're just wearing shirts and underwear, I drift off with my head on her shoulder and my hand wrapped around her stomach.
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the dried drool in the corner of my mouth. I don't think much of it other than the teasing I'd endure in the morning when Yelena finds out I drooled on her.
I pull her closer and then frown.
I am holding a pillow.
My girlfriend is not said pillow.
I rub my eyes and sit up. It's still dark outside, and the clock on my phone reads three in the morning. I scan the room for her figure, but I can't see her silhouette lingering in any of the shadowed corners. I frown and push the duvet off of my body, shivering slightly as I maneuver around the bed and into the bathroom.
No sign of her.
I'm starting to get worried.
Quickly, I grab my jeans — at least I think they're mine — and force my legs through them. I slip my phone in my pocket and head to the door.
It's locked, which doesn't make sense, because my current assumption that Yelena had gone out for a quick smoke would mean that she wouldn't have gone far enough to warrant locking the door.
I swallow down the bad feeling in my gut and step outside.
The upper wrap-a-round level of the motel showed no people in sight. I head to the stairs and down to the front desk, where a young man with purple streaks in his hair sits, droopy-eyed and scrolling mindlessly through his phone.
"Um, excuse me, sir?" I ask tentatively, rubbing the goosebumps off my arms. I hadn't brought my jacket.
His eyes flick up to meet mine. "Sir? You're friendlier than your girlfriend."
"I'm assuming you mean the blonde, very pretty, homicidal-looking woman I came in with?"
He sighs, turning his phone down. "Look, this is a motel. Things like this happen a lot. My advice is to run before the wife sees you."
I stare at him blankly.
He stares back.
"Uh, what?"
"A tall redheaded woman came by, stole your girl for a talk. They were squabbling about you. I assumed . . . oh. You didn't know. Well, who knows, could be a relative or something."
My heart hammers against my ribcage wildly. I have to keep reminding myself that Yelena loves me, that she wouldn't cheat on me, or cheat on anyone else with me, or . . . I feel myself becoming pale. Her scars, I'd never thought much of them, but with her mysterious past, and this mysterious paramour? She was running away from the woman who had now found her.
"Where did they go?" I demand, anger rushing through my veins.
He shakes his head, looking sympathetic. "I've seen this play out before, trust me when I say you don't want to confront—"
"Tell me where they went or I will make you swallow your own fist."
He recoils. "Christ, fine, they're in the parking lot. For the record, I hope you get a good slappin'!"
I speed walk out of the motel and around the back, adrenaline rushing. I stop when I spot two figures under a streetlight by my car, one taller and waving her arms around as she speaks and the other, unmistakably my Yelena, glaring up with her arms crossed.
I march over to them. Their heads snap in my direction almost immediately. The redheaded woman pulls out a gun and aims it at me.
I yelp and freeze, hands up in surrender. Yelena yells something in Russian and smacks the weapon out of her hands before rushing towards me. "(Y/N), what are you doing?"
"We're leaving," I say, completely freaked out. "Right now. You run, tell the guy in the office to call 911. I'll fight her off."
"What? No! (Y/N), this is my sister! She's just paranoid."
I gape at her. "I thought she was a science teacher!"
"I told you we should have met somewhere else," the redhead hisses.
Yelena spits back in Russian.
"No, no Russian! Explanation, now!" I turn to the woman. "You're Natalia?"
"Natasha."
"Okay, Natasha the science teacher who owns a gun, what are you doing here?"
Her lips tighten into a fine line. "I'm not a science teacher, I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I wasn't expecting Yelena to have company when I came here to drag her back home."
Yelena starts spurting more angry Russian words that mean nothing to me as I try to process what's happening. The two sisters argue for a solid two minutes while I decide I must be dreaming.
The lies. The scars. The mystery. The jokes about being an assassin.
This is a living nightmare.
I turn and walk away.
Yelena calls out, "(Y/N)! Wait!"
I don't stop until I've reached our room, where I promptly grab my jacket and bra and shove them in my bag.
"(Y/N), don't leave," Yelena begs when she catches up, blocking the doorway with her body. "Let me explain, love, please."
"Get out of my way," I snap.
She doesn't flinch, doesn't turn around as she closes the door and backs up against it as if to provide another barrier between me and the world she's trying to hide.
"Yelena," I warn.
"Let me explain," she pleads.
I stare her down, but she doesn't seem to be budging any time soon. I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the bed with my arms crossed, glaring at her. "Fine. Enlighten me."
She slowly eases away from the door. "I didn't lie to you about everything. I'm one hundred percent Russian, and I consider Natalia to be my sister, and we did grow up together. But we were trained together, too. As assassins."
"Fuck," I mutter.
She kneels down in front of me. "I got away from that life, I swear. And I met you and everything after that was the realist thing I'd ever had. I really love video games, and I really love your pancakes, and I really, really love you."
My glare softens.
"Even if you can't cook," she says.
I give her a semi-playful, semi-annoyed shove.
"You said be honest, don't hit me!"
I stand up and pace the room nervously. This time, she sits down on the bed. I mutter under my breath, gnawing on my thumbnail, until, finally, I sit down beside her.
"Okay, deal breaker. Do you know Captain America?"
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books-and-dragons · 3 years
Text
pegoryu (pre-established) post-interrogation hurt/comfort fic. has mentions of nightmares, trauma, and implied physical assault. unedited and for that i big apologise in advance
___________
okay!!! so this fic has been sitting in my drafts for months (lol what else is knew i know, shush i’m getting to the point) and i was supposed to post it on ao3 at the same time as i did a couple of others, however never got around to it bc it needed editing and im too lazy for that
likelihood is, i will edit and post to ao3 at some point, but it needs some BIG rennovations and i just can’t be arsed atm
so yeah, apologies for the shoddy writing in advance xoxo
but for now, i wanted to post it on here. today. as a sign of goodwill for the year to come. (ie. i own p5r, still havent played it, need to play it, and hope posting this will kick me into gear)
so, hope you enjoy!! and lmao if not it’ll just get buried as i start to revive this blog so,...win win?
In the first few nights since the interrogation, Ryuji stayed awake, listening to the fragile shudders of Akira’s breath in the night. So sensitive to every breath of air restricted by broken ribs, Ryuji hadn’t needed to look across the room, to gaze at the beaten figure on the bed, to know how his face was contorted in pain- unmasked in sleep.
He refused to so much as close his eyes until Akira’s breathing levelled out, still shuddering and restricted by pain, but deep enough to assure him that Akira was asleep. Only then, Ryuji allowed himself to rest.
Nobody else stayed the night. They lingered until the last train, crowded around the attic bedroom, gaze worriedly resting on Akira until the final second, where they’d leave with the accompanying chime of Leblanc’s door closing. But not Ryuji.
Ryuji, who had refused to leave Akira’s side since the moment he’d returned to their arms, beaten and drugged up, hardly coherent, but so relievingly and perfectly alive.
Akira hadn’t been alone since, Ryuji ensured that much. Torn over so much as going across the road for a bath, he couldn’t leave the other boy alone- something pulled at him to never let that happen, a pit of fear in the bottom of his stomach that pulled at his every nerve.
Maybe it had something to do with the nightmares, the visions of Akira lying broken on cold tile, at the mercilessly unrelenting hands of the police, the images of Akira lying dead, blood pooling from his head, the way the images seemed to haunt him even when awake- but there was no point reading into it. It wasn’t important, especially not now.
What mattered was that when he woke up, breath haggard and skin shining with sweat under the light of outdoor streetlamps, Akira never woke. Wasn’t even perturbed. 
Ryuji tried to be thankful for it, tried not to think about why Akira was suddenly such a deep sleeper. Ignored the puncture wounds on his neck, the bottle of painkillers by his bedside. Akira was resting, and that was enough.
Even if it didn’t make sense that, when morning rose, the dark circles under Akira’s eyes had grown. That he tried to muffle pained yawns behind bandaged hands, and begged for more coffee- even though Takemi had put him on a temporary ban.
Because Ryuji had seen him sleeping, watched the rise and fall of his chest as Ryuji reminded himself that Akira was alive and safe, it was the sight that lulled him back to sleep from a nightmare. So why did Akira always look so tired?
He tried not to let his growing concern show, there was already so much to be worried about, he didn’t want to add another. Especially not when it could be nothing but his own annoying thoughts.
It wasn’t until the next night, after a particularly painful and thorough visit from Takemi earlier that day, that Ryuji started to reconsider.
Blearily opening his eyes to the dark lighting of the attic, Ryuji didn’t need a clock to know it was well into the middle of the night, and that he’d been woken up from his sleep, again.
But it was weird. There was none of the usual constricting fear, the blind panic- he’d hardly even started seeing the figure of a beaten Akira surrounded by shadow, let alone begun imagining the worst. 
About to blame it on the lumpy and painful springs of the couch and try to fall back asleep, Ryuji caught it. Quiet, as if muffled by something, but just loud enough to penetrate through the silence in the attic and reach Ryuji: crying.
No. Not crying.
Sobbing.
Ice burning in his stomach, he carefully lifted the blanket and rose, wary of creaking springs and the sound of rustling fabric, towards the shaking figure on the bed.
His voice was barely above a whisper, carrying clearly and softly through the silence as he carefully extended an arm, not touching, only hovering, “Akira?”
The responding flinch broke Ryuji’s heart all the more, as a head rose from under the covers, bloodshot eyes wide and darting around the room in panic, hair wildly askew. 
Moving as slowly as he dared, Ryuji sat at the side of the bed, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s only me.”
As the mattress shifted under him, Akira froze. Muscles tight and unyielding, back as ramrod straight as his broken ribs would allow, the entire body braced for something Ryuji didn’t even want to think about. His gaze was distant, somewhere far away from Leblanc, from the blond sat right beside him.
It reminded Ryuji of his Ma, in the months after the divorce. Curled up together on the dingy bed, they’d cling to each other so tight even in sleep, waking up in the morning sweaty and sometimes a little uncomfortable, never minding because they woke feeling completely safe. But there were the nights when his Ma’s screams would wake him in the early hours, recoiling and shaking even in her sleep. Ryuji would sit upright and watch over her until sunrise, would try to pull her from the memories he knew haunted her. Haunted them both.
Looking at Akira, the striking familiarity of the situation made him want to hurl.
He didn’t move, no matter how strong the urge was to reach out and console his hurting best friend. Instead, he kept his voice quiet, just audible above the laboured sobs, and waited.
“You’re okay, Akira. You’re safe, I’m not goin’ anywhere, alright? You’ve got me, it’s okay-”
Slowly, the frantic scanning of the room stopped. Staring at the artificial yellow light that bathed Leblanc’s street, following it into the shadows of the attic, where dark figures seemed to fade away. The flash of blond in his vision, perfectly still, aside from the hushed mutterings leaving chapped lips.
Akira focused on that sound. It felt safe.
As Ryuji uttered soft words of reassurance, he watched the tension slowly leave Akira’s body. Shoulders slightly slouched, jaw unclenched, his lip was bleeding- but he could worry about that later. All that mattered was the softening of Akira’s lines, as he slowly came back to Ryuji.
Delicately as he dared, he reached out. Hand brushing against bruised skin, careful not to as much as press on the marred areas. For a moment, there was no response. He waited, watching the panic continue to leave until, slightly trembling, Akira’s hand interlaced with his own.
“Ryuji?” The hazed look in his eyes was clearing, staring at Ryuji with a newly discovered relief, which was quickly overtaken by shame, “Shit- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, just go back to sleep I’m fine-”
“Hey no, no man it’s okay, really-” Feeling Akira begin to pull away, Ryuji let his thumb run over the back of his hand, determinedly meeting Akira’s gaze, “I don’t mind.”
Akira opened his mouth, ready to retort and insist, but found himself silenced by the look in the other boy’s eyes. Ryuji’s hand was warm, and for a moment Akira forgot there were even any injuries there at all, thumb tracing over them with such a delicate touch he hadn’t known the blond to have possessed.
Staring into Ryuji’s eyes, he wondered at how they were always so open and unguarded, never with anything to hide- a true reflection of his best friend, passionate and honest to a fault. It was something Akira had often envied, that ability to always be his true self, to freely display his emotions. 
He almost took that back now, staring back into deep brown eyes. Eyes which so clearly reflected hurt and worry.
The raw concern so honestly displayed to him that, just in this moment, Akira decided he would allow himself to be vulnerable. Just this one time. Knowing that, as they had done for each other so many times before, Ryuji would never judge.
Hesitantly, Akira pulled his hand out of Ryuji’s and, ignoring the concerned look he got in return, allowed his hand to trace higher, around his forearm, pulling him closer with a silent plea.
As always, Ryuji understood.
Carefully reaching out, Ryuji wrapped his arms around Akira, pulling him to his chest. His touch is firm, but cautious of the bruising and bandages decorating Akira’s abdomen. Even then, careful as he was, the occasional shift sent twinges of pain up Akira’s spine. And yet, he found he didn’t mind- not when he was so surrounded by warmth and comfort and the steady beat of Ryuji’s heart just audible through his chest, that for a minute Akira feels like he can just forget-
Somehow, Ryuji shifts so they’re leaning against the back wall, Akira’s head resting high on Ryuji’s chest, ear pressed to his left side. Logically, Ryuji supposed now would be a good time to ask about what just happened, about the dark circles under Akira’s eyes and the fear still lingering when he caught sight of shadows in the room- but there would be other opportunities. When Akira wasn’t so damn exhausted and clinging to Ryuji like he’s the final lifeline holding Akira together. When neither of them would be waking up in the middle of the night, a frenzied mess, and worrying about suspicious strangers in public and carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Yeah, there would be other times to talk. But for now, Ryuji would stay with Akira and listen as his breathing mellowed out into deep breaths, as his grip on the blond weakened and he cuddled closer still, lost to the throes of sleep.
Ryuji will stay with him until the sun rises.
Neither of them were plagued by nightmares for the rest of the night.
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sexymanera · 4 years
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Hi, could I maybe request Leona with a gn s/o who usually doesn't care about their looks, but is actually very insecure sometimes? And it gets to the point that they don't even want to look in a mirror anymore? Its okay if you don't wanna write this if it makes you uncomfortable, but anyways, I hope your doing well and taking care of yourself!
prom dress
leona kingscholar
semi-imagine
fluff
gender neutral reader
note: aaa this is my first request! and i hope you’re doing aight too!
.・゜-: ✧ :-  -: ✧ :-゜・.
“Affecting others is the last thing I would do I keep to myself though I want to break through”
you’ve been dating leona for about 2-3 weeks now. things have been going steady. a few minor bumps in the road here and there- one of them being your insecurities. normally, you wouldn’t have a problem with your looks and would carry on with your day. but ever since you started dating leona, people have been skeptical about you. 
how did you, a mere human with no magic who accidentally entered night raven college, manage to get leona to date you? it was a question that has crossed your mind multiple times. why would he date someone as weak as you? why did he bother putting up with you? 
the voices of people who have bullied you without leona knowing echoed in your head. the main insult they always used were your looks, which was absolutely irrelevant. you have done nothing to them, not once interacted with them, not once looked in their direction. yet here they are, nitpicking on the way you talk, walk, and look. it was never ending. you were growing tired of it.
every time you saw yourself in the mirror, that once beaming confidence had shattered into bits and pieces. sleepless nights due to you questioning if leona even loved you. you wanted it to stop. leona noticed that you would tear up once you saw your reflection. it was weird. the reason why he liked you was because you were confident. he didn’t think any of it at first, but soon noticed you being too harsh on yourself and forcing yourself to work hard. why did you do this? it was to make up for the insults about your looks. 
you wanted the harassment to stop. having been fed up with what’s been going on, you decided to tell leona at the school dance. the students wouldn’t bother you in a crowd but would subtly try to shatter your already low self-esteem. music echoed monstro lounge, people were chattering amongst themselves and it was alright so far.
“y/n! funny seeing you here without leona,” ace chuckled. you smiled, “speaking of leona, have you seen him around?” ace thought for a moment before shaking his head “no.” you let out a tired sigh before thanking him and walking to the buffet area and sadly looking at the food. you wondered if you should get some food for leona and give it to him as soon as he arrived. smiling at the thought of your boyfriend, you happily grabbed some sandwiches and walking to the entrance before bumping into someone who, unfortunately, held some punch. the sticky drink splashed to your face as the culprit snickered. 
“we told you we wouldn’t stop until you break bit by bit,” he whispered before walking over to his circle of friends. you held back the tears and sucked it up. where was leona? you wanted to see him now. to be comforted by him. to be held in his arms as he tells you it’s going to be alright. the thought of him made your eyes well up. you dropped the sandwiches and looked around for a certain chocolate brown haired male as you wiped the punch off of your face with your sleeves. 
“he never came...” although to most people, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. they all knew leona was lazy and wouldn’t even bother attending classes so why would he attend the school dance? but to you? to you it mattered more than anything. he said he would see you and listen to you ramble about whatever problem on your mind. he said he would be there. 
he stood you up.
you broke down in tears while running towards the hall of mirrors and leaving the octavinelle dorm. without thinking, your legs took you to the first place where you first met leona: the botanical garden. 
sniffles were heard by leona from a mile away. he knew those sobs all too well and woke up from his nap. he was surprised, to say the least, to see you crying with pink punch stained on your polo and your face. realization hit him like a ton of bricks once he noticed your attire. it was formal. you just came back from monstro lounge. 
“y/n,” you flinched once you heard that familiar, bed voice. turning around, your eyes met leona’s summer green ones. tears welled up in your eyes once again as you rushed towards him and hugged him tightly. this took the lion aback but he hugged you back soon after. 
a few minutes of calming down you had told him everything. how you were harassed, how you were insulted. it has been going on for weeks and leona felt bad for not noticing it sooner. he noticed how you would come back with scrapes and wounds but thought you were just being clumsy again. “i’ll teach those damn herbivores a lesson,” he growled before you played with his hair. it always calmed you down, for some odd reason. 
“can we stay like this for now? please...” you whispered. leona looked at you from over his shoulder before sighing and agreeing. he just wanted to make you as happy as possible. 
.・゜-: ✧ :-  -: ✧ :-゜・.
a/n: uh that was my first request and my first fluff omg im not good at fluff i hate it here
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iamtheempress · 3 years
Text
Lets Talk
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She nursed a nice bruise on her face in the bathroom, one that bloomed from her cheek to the top of her brow, extending a green fingertip to her cheek to heal it slowly, hopefully bringing back some natural skin tone to her cheek again.
 A normal practice for treating her wounds all her life, all while keeping herself awake and conscious with an energy drink that was half empty and the ever present feeling of anticipation. The source of anticipation lingering on that phone beside her, a burner phone she bought at the beginning of the day.
Chiaki's eyes flickered to her burner phone right next to her, waiting for a reply from a face shed only met during a fight earlier that morning with her father. 
Heroes against Villains, that old fight that will seemingly never ever cease, she cant remember why the incident happened but she just knew that she and her father were first responders along with a handful of other heroes.
 She inspects the faded mark on her face and closes the door to the bathroom, quietly as to not wake her mother who had tried to quell her worried eldest daughter, Aoi had retired to bed about an hour ago… the media had picked up on the travesty of a fight that happened earlier that day. Causing a nasty uproar from civilians and the media alike.
It was everywhere, newspapers, radio stations, the internet and she can hear the newscaster announce it clearly. "Pro Hero Witch is in the Literal Hot Seat today, is she someone we need to keep an eye on? Her power was in full effect keeping a fifteen-story building from crushing her and her battered teammate, FullCharge. Who had beaten the negligent heroin enough to make her heal him, after she did this the building she was supporting fell upon her and 5 other civilian lives, after letting the villain come to know as Dabi escape-'' she turned off the tv sick and tired of hearing of how useless she’s been, the ensuing argument she had with her family left scars on her psyche she wouldn't bat an eyelash at, she couldn't care about her reputation when she let people die on her watch. 
Useless. Lazy. A joke. 
She let those 5 civilians die so callously, she didn't know them and yet she doesn't feel as bad, atleast not right now. Casualties are a norm for heros, right?
The icing on the cake was to hear the media call her that word negatively again. 
Witch… 
A name she used to take her power back from a horrible nickname in her childhood. Now once again weighing on her like chains to the floor.
 She walked to bed holding the phone and lamenting, falling to her bed with a resounding flop.. It's her fault.. she let Dabi go, and everyone saw it.
 She let everyone down and even had her phone blown up by her friends. She turned her attention to the group chat and took a peek from behind the iron curtain of guilt. Bakugou's name was the first to catch her eye.
Bakugou: Chili. Hey dumbass answer us! We have been trying to call you all day and you leave us on read. Answer us goddammit! We don't want to confront you ourselves and see what your deal is but we will if you don't answer us for the rest of the night.
Midoriya: We will give you another 30 and we're coming over, we promise we're not going to gang up on you, Chili…That wouldn't be right. 
Chiaki: How can i trust that, you all saw my situation, no one did a damn thing to help me, i get im also the healer but that includes people defending me in order to heal at a distance or else I HAVE THE TARGET on me. I cant face any of you. 
Bakugou, Izuku, Shouto and more are typing…
She wept rubbing her eyes with her sleeve and making her tear up. Out of everyone… she assumed someone would understand but they all seemed to give her the same look, it made her heart stop. Once again she's the bad guy in a situation she lost control over. With guilt in her heart, she recalled the last moments before he got away. 
Dabi got her father off of her. No hesitation, blasted him clean off of her with enough force it could have singed her head to toe, but he didn’t. She went to get up and saw her father immolated in blue flames as she turned to see the same man she was sent to apprehend was standing fixed about 10 feet from her, his eyes trained solid on her. She looks up at the buildinh started to grown from the integrity being lost from the fight, it began to collapse down on them until she suspended it above the both of them, mere feet from his head; they stared at one another like deer in headlights. A sinister smirk spread across his features before disappearing from her view, in the kick up of dirt and rubble, 
Chiaki couldn’t bring herself to apprehend him. 
Why..? Did he see the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she barely had a leg to stand on when her own father took her down a size, when he saw insubordination over saving herself and not her father who was completely fine? Or was there another ulterior motive to keeping her alive?
Upon trying to close her eyes, and hopefully forget about this whole day.  
The burner phone buzzed to life. 
The screen could have been the brightest thing in the room, a beacon in the night beckoning her. Distant thunder rumbled to indicate the dire decision she's made, as well as a storm that was approaching.
 Her heart stopped, she lifted the phone slightly and slid her thumb over the screen. To see the text message from an unavailable number. 
“How is that eye feeling, Witch?” 
The text read, her fingers flew across the keyboard. 
“It’s been better, I fixed it up. Is this really Dabi?” upon sending the message the text came up as read. Is she really thinking of doing this… he messaged her back quickly. “Maybe I am, I have seen the news today and that shot of you and I standing before the building collapsed on us was cinematic so I have to give you props for that. I’m guessing the reason you wanted to speak to me was not make pleasantries and talk about our days.” 
“You want to join the League.” 
There it is. The question that lain heavily upon her mind. Shed never considered it as much as she has recently. The ridicule of her graduating class, her power seen as something not all heroes should use for good. She proved time and time again how she is not something to worry about.. But here she was.. Being abused and taken advantage of by the people she cared for. 
“Yes. I do.” She sent it with no hesitation and sat up in her bed looking down upon the phone, he made quick work of messaging her back, again. 
“We havent recruited anyone worth our time in a while. From what I saw recently as well as today. We were considering reaching out to you..but this works much better. Meet tonight?” Her golden eyes widened and her mouth popped open out of sheer shock. “Around what time? Ill be there” She stands up, with a loud crack of lightning the rain poured outside, she cursed and saw a location pop up on her phone.
An old and run down apartment complex outside of city limits. “Now. Get going. Text me when you're close.” Chiaki sprung out of bed without a second thought. Redressing herself in simple attire, something to not be seen on the streets so easily especially at night. Black leggings, worn in combat boots her mother gave her, a large black hoodie and that burner phone.
 While tying her hair up in a bun she saw her phone, the one with her best friends messaging her… and Midoriya’s name front and center..
Izuku: “Hey, cmon, Chili. We know you’re there.. We saw what happened and we want to know if your alright…We can see you reading our messages”
Izuku: What happened with your dad wasn't right but something doesn't add up from that fight, Chili.”
Bakugou: “It makes just as little sense to me too dumbass! Why did he spare you and go for FullCharge.”
Bakugou: “You better not have done something youll regret dumbass we cant lose you!”
Kiri: “I already have Shouto were on our way to talk to you, Spooky, were not mad..”
Her heart stopped in her throat as she started typing to them. She could see them all stop typing in unison. 
“Theres nothing to talk about. You all have made up your mind about me..i can see it. I sound like im just a problem to all of you. Consider me gone.” Chiaki tossed her old phone to the bed and scrawled a note. 
“I loved you all.. I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be.”
With one message her phone began to blow up. Without looking back, she was gone. Hopping from her window to the road below with a splash into a puddle and starting her jog, leaving the only home she's known her whole damn life, as well as leaving her hero life behind her.
About a solid 30 minutes later she noticed she saw the buildings become more and more dilapidated marked with graffiti as sirens shrieked down streets and seedy characters crept behind alleyways, the city limits were within a mile away, and so was the old apartment building. 
Impatient and eager to meet him face to face, she messaged him.. "About a block or two away." she pulled her hood up as she exited a mini markets awning that was closed, rain started to shower down upon her, her light hair hidden beneath the oversized hood, the old marquis sign coming into sight. 
The phone vibrated in her pocket, Chiaki pulled it out and the words shone bright across her face. “You better not be some spy.. I won’t be too happy. So in your best interest, i'd be 100% transparent with me.”  She texts back quickly. “I am an open book and got little to hide.”
The text was read and the old marquis was above her, “No turning back now… the guys will be looking for me in no time.” She said to herself and entered the lobby of the closed apartment building, through the heavy wooden doors. It looked like it used to be grand but now it was so in disrepair that the wallpaper was torn back from walls and holes were created from years of neglect. 
Chiaki pulled her hood back and looked around, listening to the silence of the apartment, she took a breath and emanated a glow from her hands, her fingers and thumb lit up like bright green glow sticks.
From behind a darkened figure glided his scarred palm across the tattered wall approaching her slowly, he speaks up, cutting the silence and startling her. "Ah..There you are, you certainly didn't waste your time, Witch" she gasped and whipped around to see him, Dabi. She let out a nervous laugh and took a step forward, if she were not in this situation she wouldn't hesitate to take him down but this instance she felt on equal ground to him so she felt no threat.
 "I don’t dodge opportunities, especially ones like this, I would have contacted someone sooner but I wanted a reason to do this.. And you seemed like someone I wanted to contact first hand." Dabi approaches her until he is within mere feet of Chiaki, his feet shuffling with each stride, he's easily taller than her by more than a couple inches, being 5”2’ is sometimes a hindrance.
He blows air out of his nose with a laugh. “You were in luck then.. I had my eye on you for a while and finding intel for you was far more complicated than we expected. Chiaki Nakamura is it?”  one hand stuffed into his pants pocket and the other out to gesture towards her, his scarred hand fanned out, talking with his hands was natural for him to do it seems. His cyan blue eyes raking down her front and back to her eyes. Unblinking and just as dark and spellbinding as before, all the while being intensely overwhelming in every aspect physical. Chiaki’s heart bounced in her chest to her throat. 
His head lulls to the side.
 "Thats my name..” The young pro speaks softly, Dabi noticed the apprehension in her voice,"Oh are you nervous little Witch..?"  he didn't need her scurrying off or anything so he took to sauntering slowly around her, sizing her up like a hungry shark. She didn’t speak but caught his eyes through his black hair that curtained his eyes. “Just a bit but if i were any more scared i wouldn’t be here..” He looked upon her glowing green hands, it made her mildly conscious of the fact that they were shaking.
“Then my reputation precedes me even to fresh faces like you.” He says with a hoarse chuckle, he backs up with his arms spread open, she catches a glimpse of his long scarred arms, they flopped back down to his sides, She laughs gently in turn, her eyes fixed on his face, being this close she could see the gold sheen to the staples on his mouth and under his eyes. 
“If that nervous behavior is because you’re scared and having second thoughts about this.. And want to go back to playing around as a hero, i won't hesitate to fry you where you stand, but i'm hoping you're using that common sense of yours so i don't have to.” She listens intently, unwavering and dimming her hands back down, as to not allow her quirk to radiate outside the building.. Dabi’s mouth doesn’t even move beyond a normal straight line but his eyes say everything: He doesn’t see her as a stranger.. Despite this being their first time meeting amicably.
 “rest assured i won’t hurt you, from what I have seen already we need someone with a quirk like yours around, but when it comes to me bringing you back to the bar.. They won’t allow you in unless I check you for a wire, lift your arms.” He instructs and she lifts her arms just enough for him.
 His hands starting to traverse her arms and waist make her face swell with heat, a much more embarrassing position to be in… He was thorough and rough with the patdown, his face remained the same unchanging and stoic, her eyes trained on his face and the rough scars that covered the bottom portion of his face to the part directly under his tear ducts. Besides that he doesn't look bad.. The scars only add that intense look to him, the reason why people were scared of his looks. 
“I wanted to know something..” She caught his attention with a low hum, his brow raising and his lips curling upward. “What was the deal with you getting my father off of me..why didnt you attack me.” His hands finished patting down her body and he tuts her pulling the burner phone from her pocket.
 “You see.. That moment was televised and the moments leading up were not, and if they were, they didn't televise your abuse period or the reason behind it. It was pretty tragic, I heard your father's harsh words.. even more brutal pounding id say, he blocked all of your defences, your little friends didn't come for your rescue, they stood around." She stood stock still listening to him,
"Our Pro Hero lil Witch being ‘saved’ by me when i had enough of seeing someone who is more useful then her partners let on, being beaten to a pulp, and then when things seemed to be working in your favor and the fabled heroes would have gotten me, you in turn...stopped an entire highrise building from squishing me to death.” He leans forward and drops his voice an octave, dipping into a form of seductive and joking. 
“Kinda humiliating isn’t it? Being saved by a well known villain isn't really what the public wants to see.." he shrugs and steps back looks down at his palm, his long fingers moving around trying to catch her attention like he could light a flame at any moment,  with the other hand in his pocket. "I saw someone who needed help in more ways than one.” Her eyes widened as he stuffed the phone into his pocket “I saw someone who I had my eye on for a while being beaten for not doing something as useful as aiding her teammate… and for her own safety right?” He questions as he leans back against the wall adjacent to her.
 “Yeah.. that's right.. How do you know all that? I mean like, not alot of people know that about my quirk, i cant heal at a distance and provide backup unless i have backup...” He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Exactly my point. Your dear old dad didn't take his much more volatile daughter into account and only used you as a support to him, fueling his ego and making you look bad to the rest of the world.” his demeanor was so foreign to her, he spoke so eloquently and with conviction, a sadistic and perverse form of understanding that drew her in like a super magnet.
 She stood blanched, thunderstruck by how he's describing the situation to her, It's like he's in her head reading every emotion as plain on her face. “Yes. He never took me seriously… as a hero.. No one really ever did.” Dabi's eyes softened as their eyes remained locked in a stare of...mutual understanding on his part… she knew little of his past or who he was, but the weight of not being good enough or a lost cause caused his fists to clench.. he not dare ask anything personal yet.. he has a job to do and earn her trust and read her and her situation like a book. Foreshadowing the type of person she was made to be over years of unfair treatment and situations outside of their control.
 “Getting closer.. Go on, Witch.” She swallowed air and kept spilling her guts..  “I use my quirk to even help anyone or… do something for the good of others and its never highlighted in the slightest, no job well done or whatever. No sort of fanfare or recognition, i come home and.. get judged and told I'm not as good as… as him, from him.” SHe clasps her hands together and opens them up again, Dabi’s eyes watching the little light show from her fingertips and then fade away again. The more his eyes looked to her hands the more he wanted to see the beautiful little auras again, it was then Dabi realized her quirk is easy to be triggered, or atleast constantly active. “But when… i do one thing thats out of character for a… normal pro hero… all eyes are on you..and I was treated like a...pariah” 
Dabi nods his head and his smooth voice lulled her ears “Understand now? They only want you when you're useful to them, you're treated as backup, but in the right hands you could be so much more..” Her head hung low, like she just discovered it, that despite her power and the fact shes equally as dangerous maybe even more so she's treated as lesser than everyone else. 
Dabi mentally kicked himself, making such a pretty face sulk and look dour, he couldn't just stand there and allow her to beat herself up over how others treat her. Dabi took a step forward to her and found himself raising his hand to her chin and made her look right up at him, her chin betwixt the pads of his forefinger and thumb. “Come on now… don't be so down on yourself, they might see you as only an asset and a tool to use and expand upon themselves, as nothing more then a battery that never quits, but with us, you can reach a version of yourself you have never seen before.. And we can help you with that. We will make sure you surpass your expectations'' She caught herself staring. 
Eyes glazed over in tears that threatened to fall, and with a blink they were gone. “Excuse my ignorance but… you're serious like you can do that?” She asked with trepidation and abit of excitement that she had to cage off to not seem too eager. 
“It's not a promise, Nakamura. Its a fact that is going to be a reality. Now..” He turned on his heel and gave them some distance in the lobby, he was almost shrouded in darkness. “Give me a demonstration on what you can do.” He instructs. 
Chiaki blinks and becomes blanched. A demonstration. In here? She clasps her hands together and pulls them apart that green glow emanating from her hands to her elbows, pretty gold and green eyes enveloped in pure green with irises, her hands splayed out fingers slowly dancing and expanding outward, like licks of fire.
 “Brace yourself.” She curled in her fingers to drain the energy from surrounding lights and power, making the environment for everyone else but her heavy and sluggish. Dabi had a bead of sweat roll down his face and a headache grow slowly. “And just as it was pulled away I can give it back on my own terms.” She points a manicured finger at Dabi. The headache vanishes without a trace and his energy restored , almost knocking him on his ass from the dizzying feeling of having the wind knocked into you.
 The lights and the power entirely shut down for a full block and the bulbs bust outside. She holds a ball of concentrated energy in her palm and absorbs it into her skin, a content smile spreading across her delicate features and bowing forward and standing back up straight.
 “Oh yeah, they're going to thank me for insisting you be our new recruit... Warn me before you use your quirk on me again, will you?” She snorts and cocks a brow up at him. “So.. do it again later and knock you on your ass?” Chiaki giggled, Dabi quizzically tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if he's breaking down her words in his head, he flipped his black hair from his face as chuckles amused.
 “I knew I liked you for a reason, sarcastic little thing. ” she blushes and covers her mouth embarrassed. “I think it would be smart if we left.. I don't know if my friends are out looking for me or not..and honestly i would rather not face them head on yet.. And i don't want you to be hurt.” Chiaki looks back at him and blushes not realizing how worried she was for his safety, "What already thinking of me? Don't get so soft on me now, Nakamura.." Dabi chuckles and his hands return to his pockets and with a half turn he nods his head in the opposite direction of her, signalling her to follow him towards the exit of the building, he stops before the door. 
"Wait..you mean those UA kids..? trust me, Nakamura.. they arent your friends.. i don't need to know what you went through today after our little scene, you know as well as i that they're already plotting against you from what you did.." his words rang true along with his velveteen voice, the tall and slender Villain seemed to know more than he let on.
Chiaki became quiet and more confident with her decision. She made this choice, and she really didn't regret a damn thing. "And that very thing you have done today, Chiaki.." he slammed his hand into the wall, anchored his hand beside her head, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Lightning cracked outside illuminating the scars that adorned his features.
  The trench coat splaying open and just a bit of his shirt collar dipping down to reveal the purple scar stretches to his chest, gold tint staples fixed secure into what skin he had left to him that remained unscarred.
 Her eyes wandered from his chest back to his brilliant blue eyes. "Made me realize that you were worth contacting. Trust me, Nakamura.. we will bring out the best in you, UA would have easily tainted your view on the world and how ‘justice’ is delivered; but it seems like you know the world for what it really is." he gave her cheek a pat and a pinch, his gaze remained on her and a sickly grin twisted on his features when he notices her eyes wandering to the purple skin and his pronounced collar dipping further down his chest.. His hand engulfed her chin, capturing it and making her look him in the eyes. 
"Yknow, staring at people in the League will getcha in trouble or hurt, Not me though.. just don't get too used to it, anyone who stares  that long at me i consider mice…but honestly i don't see you scurrying off anytime soon." He backs off when she blushes brighter and gives him a shove. 
"Ah quit! Its kinda hard to not stare if you haven't noticed, Dabi." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone facing the heavy door, when he received a reply he put it back into his pocket, and sighed opening the heavy metal door with a creak, rain poured down into the street as he spoke up so she could hear him. "its what we ugly folk are used to i'm afraid." Chiaki merely scoffs and pulls back up the hood and opened her palm flat and above his and her head together she created a translucent green umbrella like barrier protecting them from the downpour,  "Ugly is abit of a stretch, Dabi..." she mutters and follows him into the alley where the rain continued ro shower down bouncing off the barrier, a singular street lamp illuminating the barren street leaving the only city she had ever known, Dabi replayed that phrase in his head and he momentarily closed his eyes.
 Its been years since he got compliments.. it was strange but not unwelcome. "Ohhhh little mouse, your gonna get along very well with me.. stick by my side and everyone will like you… eventually.. Your about to meet one of them anyway." As he said this casually as the street became a black and purple haze, a portal opened up and swirled as a literal exit from the city.. to wherever the hell she was going next. 
Chiaki gasped and took an apprehensive step forward.
 "Scared?" Dabi asked, with a little smirk on his lips. "Just a bit…" Dabi extended his hand for her, inviting her with him "Cmon. Trust me. Trust a burnt man with nothing to lose." He chides playfully. Chiaki accepts his invitation, his hand warm and textured with the staples.. Dabis heart skipped a beat at the contact.
 Soft and small hands engulfed by his own as he guided her through the portal, stunning blue eyes never deviating from her gold and green ones.. like they were captivated by one another.. before she knew it, she was in a completely different location. She blinked and looked around, thunderstruck almost by the environment.
A bar that reeked of booze and smoke of different varieties. "Welcome home, for now." He says in a flat tone, she pulled off her hood and looked around.
 Dabi still had his back to her and looked at his palm for a moment that felt like an eternity, the ghost of her hand remaining in his own, strange emotions bubbled up from nowhere, he shoved them back down and spoke up. 
"Everyone seems to be out by now, usually the bar is never empty. The person who summoned that portal is here...Kurogiri, which means our leader Shigaraki is here. He’ll meet you at some point..when he's not on his damn video games." he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and shook his wet hair out. Turning to look down at her, "Nice place...you guys bounce from place to place often?" She asks in what felt like a shy whisper, the resounding echo from the hall made her feel like she was shouting. 
"Haven't in a while.. hoping we won't have too again. Wont say where because it doesn't matter. Anyway, wanna come up to my room? There's an old couch up there you can crash on. Unless you want my bed, heh.. Wouldn't mind you in bed with me.” He breathily chuckles and pinches her chin starting to lead the way, “Don't get any ideas! I'm just tired.. I haven't had any sleep and its like.. Almost 2:30 in the morning.” She yawned and dragged her feet behind him.
Chiaki follows him up the stairs and down the long corridor to the last door on the left, he opened it to find a bedroom with a king sized mattress pushed to the wall and the windows covered in blackout curtains, an old couch directly under it and  a flat screen across the room as well as his own computer and cans of empty energy drinks by it, as well as an ashtray that looked like it was used normally. 
“This room is mine, go ‘head.” He invites her in, noting the tired look on her face, he found it almost innocent if it weren't for the remnants of blush still ghosted on the apples of her cheeks.
Dabi had booted the door closed behind him as she kicked off her boots, he spoke up again, watching her movements, as they seemed to have gotten lazier. “Not much of an interior decorator but it works for me, sprucing the room up would be too much effort.” 
Making himself comfortable he sheds the trench coat and shuffles through a cabinet in the desk where his computer is located,”I'm getting pretty tired and by the looks of it you are too, so im afraid im gonna have to restrain you. Cmere.” He says, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that catches Chiaki’s attention, her brow instantly rising in confusion and a hint of worry. Dabis eyes flicker up to her when she whips around at the chain jingling as he approaches her, twirling the cuffs around his finger 
 “W-wait why do you need to restrain me?” She asks a little wary, “Its so you dont pull anything while I'm sleeping… can't be too careful, little mouse.” He states clasping the cuffs around her wrists in the front, they clicked almost to the point where he could get two fingers under them. Chiaki looked at him with big innocent eyes and then down to the cuffs on her wrists. “Tsk..you do this to all the new recruits or am i just that special.” He chuckles and turns his back to her. “You’re a first, to both be cuffed and able to sleep in my bed. Consider yourself ‘special’”
She looks back up to find Dabi stripping his white shirt off and tossing it to the couch, a blush forming on her face and a pang in her heart as she looks at him closely, hes much better looking up close… fit and lean, along with the added look of his scars that dressed his torso into his pants only made him 2 times more appealing and more her type. “Holy shit..” She says out loud with her jaw slacked abit. “Checking me out, little mouse? Remember what I said about staring.” He chuckled and laid back in bed exhausted, pulling the sheets up her body comfortably. “Sorry was just admiring the view, Dabi.” She teased rolling her eyes and settling into bed, Dabi’s eyes widened briefly and felt that sweet warm feeling creeping up his chest again, this time he let it simmer there.
“im going to sleep.. Too tired to think, that energy drink i had acouple hours ago finally wore off." Chiaki yawned and stretched, facing away from him to ease the situation, that situation being she wanted to face him and find comfort from him. 
A sort of comfort she longed for for years, acceptance and safety.. Funny she found safety with a villain.. With villains alike. This caused her to giggle to herself, he raises a brow and looked over to her with his arms tucked behind his head 
Instead as Dabi turned off the light and the distant thunder rolled she spoke up “Dabi..” “Hm?” She turned back over and some light from the opened part of the black out curtains illuminated her eyes, Dabi once again caught himself peering into them wistfully finding himself looking her over. 
 A genuine glow in her eye, appreciation and a connection the two have never felt before, “Thank you, for bringing me in.. you wont regret it,” She brings her bound hands up to pull the pillow further up under her head, and licked her lips, swallowing her fear and letting a wall down, even just alittle bit to him. Dabi mused and observed her closely, finally seeing the opposite end of what its like to have someone in need go to him of all people. “i haven't felt anything beyond disappointment for a long long time, so to say i feel comfortable with someone i was fighting not even a day ago says anything, i hope you understand and i'm not stepping over any boundaries.” He grinned, and responded with an amused chuckle. “Getting soft on me again, better not make that a habit with anyone else here, I just might get jealous.” Dabi grazed his finger against her cheek, she leaned against his hand and smiled angelically.
“I'm starting to like that fire in your eye. ” He ghosts his knuckles down her cheek as her eyes closed slowly, blinking exausted as the cold air kicked on from the ac unit above them, she shivered and threw all caution to the wind, Dabi stiffened as she moved closer to his end of the bed, she ducked her head abit beneath the blanket to snuggle against his warm chest, his heart hammered with nerves he still couldnt place a name too, the same hand that stroked her cheek rested on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the sweatshirts fabric. 
Comforting and confusing thoughts swirled through the villains mind as he soon came to realize he remained awake for all but another 20 minutes, the soft rise and fall of her chest and side indicated she had long fallen asleep in his arms. 
Dabi rested his chin against her head and attempted to find the sleep he had long since forgotten in his past life. Acceptance and comfort from someone. 
He sighed and whispered in a husky tone of voice.
“Glad we had that talk, Little Mouse…”
XXX~
Hey yall its my first MHA fic. You might see more of her and Dabi in the future cuz honestly this was fun!
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starkeristheendgame · 4 years
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hey!! im really sorry to bother but i really love your writing & saw that you were taking prompts!! i was wondering if you could do one where tony has a sort of kink for calling peter ‘kid’ in a way, if your comfortable of course! sorry if my English isn’t the best!
I’m so sorry that this got buried to the bottom of my inbox! I hope you’re still around and that you get to see this, and I’m so sorry again that it drowned! I hope you enjoy it and I can only apologise if you hate it 😂
Also; please, please don’t ever apologise for your verbal or lingual ability. Learning another language is hard, and English is noted as one of (if not the most) hardest languages to learn. Being bi/multi-lingual is something to be insanely proud of!
I hope you don’t mind, but all of my prompts recently have been in canon universe, so this is a neighbours AU with no powers. In which Tony is a rich ex-businessman who just wants to tinker on old cars in his (not) retirement and Peter is the high school kid that won’t leave him alone.
TW: ‘Kid’ kink (the term) | Underage character | Underage (SS&C) sex | Daddy kink
Someone had bought the house next to his over the half-term. Peter knew this because the sale sign went down and the garden was immediately de-turfed and a notice was posted through everyone’s door on Wayforest Road that ‘minor construction’ would begun within the next two weeks, from 8am to 5pm daily, save for Saturdays and Sundays.
Peter wanted to laugh in - and then punch - the face of whoever decided to term it minor. Abruptly on the following Monday, almost a full half-hour before his alarm was due to go off, Peter was awoken by deep, loud voices and the clanging of scaffolding poles as the workmen arrived.
Groaning did nothing. Neither did flopping about pathetically on his bed like a beached fish. Burrowing under his duvet and his pillow was also a lost cause; he’d left his window open to keep his room cool in the night.
Seething, Peter flung himself from bed, turned off his alarm, and hopped in the shower. The workmen were gone when he came back, but the house was now a big, ugly grey thing besides his own, and he paused on the sidewalk to eye it mulishly. “If you’re another crabby old man; I’m not helping you walk your groceries up to your porch” he announced loudly to the empty house, and scuttled away to the safety of his own home after being eyed balefully and judgmentally by Mrs. Witkin’s cat.
At the dinner table, the new house and its new occupants were all Aunt May seemed to want to talk about, despite the way Peter’s face resembled less of his usual ‘ :) ‘ and more of a ‘ -.- ‘ as she went on, guessing the features of their new neighbour animatedly around mouthfuls of mashed potato.
Tuesday morning found him jolting awake to a shout of “Jim! Jim! For fuck’s sake, Jim, get tha’ fuckin’ plank!” In a thick, overly loud Irish accent.
By Friday, Peter was ready to forgo just a punch to the face, and was willing to commit all out, planned murder. At somewhere around seven-am every morning that week, the workmen had woken him up with their clanging and their shouting and their existing. Friday evening he stomped around the corner with a glower, fingers tight around his backpack straps. Not even Mrs. Witkin’s mean old cat could deter him from scowling at the house the entire way to his door.
Town rumours be damned; that cat was just old and judgemental, like half the residents there. It was no trapped old lady or cursed young Prince.
Hopefully.
Peter crossed himself on his porch quickly just in case. It could never hurt to be a little superstitious. Especially not after the day that Mr. Herald proclaimed himself immortal and was then promptly wiped out by the tree in his yard collapsing.
By the following Monday, Peter caved and stayed at Ned’s for the night, for the first time in his entire life thankful to hear the music of his alarm and not a series of clangs or yells. It was even good enough that Ned’s snoring didn’t disturb him as much as it usually did. He felt chipper, refreshed. Right up until he turned the corner and found his street lined with vans, the workmen a little late finishing.
The next two months were cesspit of noise and strange men and sleepless days off. Apparently the person who had bought the house must’ve only liked the area and nothing about the house at all, because by week three, all that remained of it was the bare skeleton, gutted and stripped and ugly. But Peter was willing to concede that his new neighbour had good taste.
By the end of the second month the house had been entirely re-built, and Peter was convinced that his new neighbour was some very famous or important person looking for a secret hideaway, or a mob boss. There was no other logical explanation. What had once been a decent but generic detached property with a neglected garden was now a mini-mansion of sorts, all soft creams and light earth tones, with a stonewall front and staggered steps that led onto a half-gravel and half-grass front yard.
Large paned windows were already lined with thick curtains and plants and a sweeping gravel-scape led to a large garage, that seemed to be the most work of the renovation. It was huge, probably taking up over half of what used to be side garden and dead grass. No fence bordered the property, but the difference between Peter’s space and the new person’s space was immaculate and definitive.
“Huh” he mused aloud, blinking. Suddenly, he was less irritated at all those lost half-hours and more curious about who was going to be living there. They had money, for sure. Inheritance? Insurance claim payout? Illegal happenings? Aunt May’s two joking theories were suddenly looking less of a joke and more genuine possibilities.
As it would happen, Peter wouldn’t actually find out for another three or so months. The man moved in on a Saturday, quietly and with a small fleet of sleek SUV vehicles and fancy moving vans. Peter enjoyed a lazy morning, napping until the start of the afternoon and basking in the summer warmth, stretching in front of his bedroom window and looking down in time to see the last of the delivery and moving people packing down their vehicles.
Peter eyed all the bodies curiously, but it soon became clear none of them were his new neighbour, because they all stood around, flipping through paperwork, and then promptly left. Peter lingered under the pretence of dusting at his window ledge, but the street was quiet and empty.
Aunt May was anything but quiet when he finally dragged himself downstairs in search of food. “Peter! Morning, honey. Did you see the vans outside? Very fancy. Big enough for bodies, too, though” May hummed, flipping through the book she was currently reading.
Thirty Ways To Revive Your Youth.
Peter grimaced, and begun to rummage through the cupboards. “Not to question your intelligence, but. Why would a mob boss carry around his victims? Like a few teeth or knuckles ought to serve as good souvenirs. I don’t think carting around whole bodies is practical” Peter pointed out, settling on fruity oatmeal. Aunt May paused in her reading, nose twitching to adjust her glasses as she considered it.
“Hm. Point. Unless they bought the house because they run out of burial room, and these are fairly recent bodies they need the new soil for” she pointed out, and Peter pointed his spoon at her as he passed.
“Point” he agreed.
And so the weeks passed, but the mystery remained. No matter what time Peter tired to linger, or how early he awoke, his neighbour never seemed to be around. Here and there he would catch a figure roaming past the windows, kinda like a ghost, but never a clear view or a face. It was vastly disappointing, but his interest didn’t wane over the months that spanned between his rueful lack of sleep and now.
Now being a hazy Saturday morning, warm but not overly stuffy. Peter was coming back from a morning at Ned’s wherein they’d been steadily chewing away at the LEGO Galactic Supership. He was halfway down the street when a large trailer vehicle begun to drift down the street steadily, heading straight in Peter’s direction.
He paused on the sidewalk, watching it with interest. It was a transportation vehicle, and as it drew closer Peter could see there was a car on the back of it, heavily clamped down and chained to make sure it wouldn’t roll off. The vehicle passed him by some, and he got a clear view of the other car. It looked old, a little broken, rusted. Huge, though. Bigger than all the cars he’d seen before.
It pulled up right outside his neighbours house. Sensing an opportunity, and genuinely curious, Peter lingered, taking a few steps across the sidewalk to eye the car. It was a glossy red, though it had sun fade and was patchy. The chrome was glossy in places and dull, rusted in others. One headlight was missing.
The door of the cab opened, and Peter turned on his heel to see the driver getting out. The friendly greeting died on his lips as toned, thick thighs slid from the cab, followed by trim hips and a long, solid torso only half-hidden under a tank-shirt and overshirt. Broad shoulders prefaced the hottest man that Peter had ever laid eyes on.
He had a shaped jaw that was cut by stubble in a unique style that Peter had never seen anyone wearing before. He had sharp cheeks and dark, deep eyes with long lashes, tanned but not exactly browned and dark, dark hair with the barest flecks of grey at the roots, at his temples.
The man seemed surprised to find him there, pausing mid-way through pushing the door shut and peering around the street before looking back at him. One shaped brow lifted, and Peter stumbled to remember his manners, thrusting out a hand.
“Hi, Mister. Sorry - I was looking at the car. Is it for the new house?” He asked, forcing himself not to blush under the intense gaze. After a brief pause, the man took his hand, palm large and slightly rough, grip firm. He was even more attractive up close, slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes, dark lips and the strong scent of motor oil and grease.
“Would seem that way”.
And Ho-ly voice. Deep and with the softest of rumbles, soothing like a thunderstorm in the far distance. Peter clutched at his jacket when their hands dropped, coughing politely to hide whatever facial expression he’d pulled. The man strode past him and to the car, beginning to work on the many safety straps and chains.
“Did they…Is this theirs?” Peter asked after watching him quietly for several moments with a gesture towards the house besides them. Peter had discovered the house had a second parking bay on the other side, where a glossy black muscle car from the 60′s never seemed to move.
“Theirs’?” The man echoed, pausing in his movements to look up at Peter with curious amusement. It occurred to him then that it was likely some random car recovery guy had seen his new neighbour(s) before he had.
“Uh…Well. I’ve never actually seen them. So I don’t know if its one person, or a whole family, or…” Peter trailed off meekly, looking over his shoulder at the building. It looked as empty as it always did, no lights on and no figures moving behind the windows.
“Townsfolk say its some celebrity having a breakdown. Others say its some old widow using her husband’s life insurance. Even heard from someone that its a mafia lord, settling down in the middle of some quiet ass nowhere town” the recovery man grunted, hauling on a thick, heavy chain. Peter flushed.
Yeah. He was…Guilty of some pretty crazy guesses. But come on. Someone buys a house, spends upwards of hundreds of thousands doing it over, and then…Nothing. No new faces at the grocery store. Never seen, or even heard. Like a ghost.
“They’re not big fans of being…Seen. I guess? I mean, I know a guy with groceries comes around every Monday. Sometimes multiple times a week, but he always puts them in the garage and leaves. And this town is full of judgemental old people - Half of whom probably have mercury poisoning or something. There’s gonna be some pretty wild speculations going around” he pointed out, moving closer to look at what appeared to be a scratch in the paintwork.
The car gave a faint creak as the man released all of the holds on this side, snorting as he rounded the back of the vehicle and went to the other side with a loud, amused snort. Peter followed, and stifled a gasp at the sight of the other car. The man turned, eyeing him for a moment, before nodding.
“Got T-boned by an estate car. But she’s a tough old thing. Heavy metals and good steel; not like today’s cars. She came out better off” he mumbled as he worked on a thick strap, carefully taking apart the various clasps and buckles. Peter approached the car carefully, stretching up on his toes to brush his fingertips over the warped metal. He felt almost….Sad for the car.
He traced the flaking paint and the twisted, dented metal tenderly, and when he pulled away, the man was watching him again, movements slowed as he pulled the material through the metal. “Is this their car? What good is it now if its all broken up?” He asked curiously.
The man ducked his head, moving onto another thick chain. “Its just the one guy. I guess its a…Hobby. Of his. Bought her yesterday at a scrap lot”. He seemed uncomfortable saying it, but to Peter it was like gold trust. One guy. Huh. A big old house like that? That seemed rather lonely. Maybe it really was some rich old person retiring, enjoying a quiet place and a mechanics hobby.
Peter was going to ask more, but the car was freed with a grinding sound, and the man gestured him carefully back with his hand, holding it out in front of Peter to walk him back like a horse, to a safe distance. The man used two remotes to bring the car to the ground, Peter watching in fascination as rotors and rolling mechanisms moved it backwards and onto the tarmac of the road.
“How do you plan on moving it now?” Peter asked, and immediately regretted it as the man shed his over-shirt. Biceps. Shoulders. Forearms. His throat went dry and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.
As it turns out, the plan was simply ‘push’. Peter scoffed, but was soon at a loss to anything but stare as the man leaned heavily against the trunk of the car, muscles bulging in the afternoon sun. Heavy or not, the car soon begun to roll, and after a moment Peter dropped his backpack and came up besides the straining man, leaning all his might against the metal.
It probably did fuck all, but the man gave him a wry grin all the same, chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths as they moved the car across the flat ground and onto the side-drive space. Peter’s shoulder ached and his arms and thighs suddenly felt like jelly, but the man slapped him across the back.
“Good effort, kid” and then moved away, heading towards the front door. Peter gaped as the man simply grasped the doorhandle and pushed the door open, and floundered on the drive. “Wait! You’re just gonna walk into his house?” He called, and the man paused mid-step, looking back at him.
“Well. I ought to just ‘walk in’. Its my house”. And with a lewd, perfect wink he was gone. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself, flailing on the driveway with error logs flashing behind his eyes. That was his neighbour. His neighbour was some rich, late-thirty something hot-hot-hot guy who fixed broken classic cars.
“Oh my god” Peter muttered, stomping down the driveway to get his bags. Four months. He’d lived next to this Playgirl model for four months.
He decided against telling Aunt May. It felt selfish, but it also felt good to know he was the only person to have seen him. Even though he realised not long after reaching his room that he hadn’t even gotten his name. Peter waited by his window for hours, but saw neither hair nor hide of the man again. By morning, the transport truck was gone and the cherry red car was presumably inside the garage.
The damned guy was magic. There was no other explanation. Fuelled, Peter spent the Sunday morning in the kitchen, furiously baking with narrowed eyes and a plan. The muffins were done by mid-day, and Peter iced them carefully before boxing them, and stomping across the sidewalk to his neighbour’s house.
Peter knocked, and waited. Knocked again. Waited. “If you don’t answer the door then I’m just going to sit here” he announced loudly, knocking again before plopping down onto the porch just to prove a point. Several long minutes passed before his neighbour appeared around the corner, from the garage judging by the grease steaks up his arms, scowling.
“Kid. Here’s a life tip; if someone doesn’t answer the door, its because they don’t want company” the man huffed, but his eyes zeroed in on the box with intense curiosity, and Peter shrugged, smug.
“You came out, though” he pointed out, pushing himself to his feet. The man scoffed, but allowed him to follow, leading the way around the building where a small side-door was open.
“I came out about thirty years ago, kiddo. If that’s a congratulations cake, you’re a little late”. Peter tripped over the gravel, fighting his legs to remain upright and his stomach did a weird knot inside him. Oh. Not only was his neighbour hot, but he was at the least male inclined, too.
Very interesting.
“Actually, these are just welcome muffins. Chocolate and orange” Peter murmured, stepping inside the garage. It was bigger than it seemed, and the cherry red car stood in the centre, sanded down and clearly being worked on already.
“Peter, by the way. Peter Parker” he added after a pause, and almost offered his hand for a second time, but settled instead on thrusting the muffin box at the man. He raised a brow, but delved inside to pull one out, clearly eager at the prospect.
“Tony” he offered simply, and Peter tested it on his tongue, enjoying the shape. For now; he’d let the lack of a last name go. Good things in time, after-all. Choosing to invite himself to stay, Peter perched primly on top of the edge of the workbench, electing another raised brow, but Tony’s mouth was too full of muffin to object.
Tony begun to work as he ate, and Peter sat in content silence, watching as Tony and his bulging arm muscles took each wheel off the car and begun to strip it of all its chrome features. Peter checked his phone after a while and was surprised to find that around four hours had passed. May would be home from her sewing group about now. He ought to head home.
“I’ll be back tomorrow” he announced, and jumped at the same time Tony did, the man smacking his arm off warped metal with a shout. Tony whirled on him, eyes wide, gaze flicking between him and the door, before he looked…Confused.
“You’re still here?” He asked, and Peter snorted as he dusted off his pants, heading for the door with a shake of his head. May came home shortly after he did, and Peter supposed he ought to let her know that he’d be visiting Tony again tomorrow.
“So he’s not a mafia boss? Or a celebrity?” She asked around a mouthful of roasted chicken, looking rather disappointed as Peter shrugged and shook his head.
“He just seems…Aloof? I don’t know. Maybe he’s some business tycoon or something. But he seems nice. I’m just going over to help him with this car he’s got. It’s real nice, too” Peter hummed, and Aunt May narrowed her eyes at him.
“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t know him. He’s a stranger. Albeit a hot one, apparently. And you have school tomorrow, too. You shouldn’t be hanging around strangers. Unless…If he happens to be single…I’d be open to his number” May shrugged after a pause, and Peter blinked.
May was surprisingly easy to placate, and he assured her that if she wanted to, she could march right over to Tony and give him a Mother Hen Talk after dinner, but she decided against that, and in favour of a hot bath. School on Monday rolled around quicker than Peter could say ‘garage’ and he decided against telling Ned about Tony.
He wanted Tony all to himself. At least…For as long as he could. It was strange, but he found his heart thumping as he marched down Tony’s driveway and up to the garage door this time, knocking on it loudly. He’d brought lemonade and sandwiches this time.
The garage door opened, and Tony looked equally as startled to see Peter there as he had the day prior, gaze raking his body before frowning, and stepping aside with a sigh. “You’re like a mosquito, kid. I came here to get away from people” Tony announced pointedly, and Peter founded on him with an unimpressed gaze and an arched brow of his own.
“If you truly wanted to get away from people, you’d have moved out in the mountains or something. Now, get back to work. In an hour you can stop for supper. I brought chicken sandwiches” he ordered, taking his seat from the day before and pulling his calculus homework from his bag.
He kept his gaze down as Toy stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times, before he went for his wrench, muttering to himself as he lay down on a wheeled bench and rolled under the car. Peter smiled quietly into his papers. A little over two hours later - he lost count, sue him - Peter pushed himself to his feet and strode over to the car, kicking Tony lightly in the ankle that stuck out.
“We can eat now” he announced, walking back over to his pack and taking out the tupperware he’d packed this morning. He could hear the sound of the wheels moving, and he turned, holding out the box. Tony looked perplexed, but approached and took it, still looking puzzled even as he bit into his own portion.
“Not that the pattern of snacks isn’t appreciated, kid, but…Why are you here?” he asked after he’d swallowed, and Peter actually had to think about it, flushing as his mind conjured up inappropriate responses like ‘I want to lick your arms’ and ‘You look like the hot mechanics in my pornos’.
He settled on a shrug, chewing slowly for more time. “You’re interesting. You’re my neighbour. You’re not a mafia boss or a broken down celebrity” he pointed out. Tony twitched on the last one, but gave a hum and moved away, scarfing down the last of his sandwich and returning to the car. This time, when Peter informed him he was leaving and would be back tomorrow again, Tony neither jumped nor looked surprised.
It became a pattern. Three out of seven days a week, Peter would sit in the garage with his homework or revision and Tony would work on the red car, which Peter came to learn was a 1958 Plymouth Fury. “Just like in Christine” Tony had huffed proudly, and had then been quickly appalled when Peter had simply stared blankly.
That night, Peter had watched the movie, and his next visit was spent talking animatedly about it with Tony, discussing their favourite parts and what it might be like if it was ever re-made. After a month, Aunt May picked her way across the gravel to finally meet the man her adopted son kept disappearing off to be with, and Peter had the unfortunate experience of watching them flirt together, Tony in a cheeky, smooth, outrageous manner and Aunt May like a school-girl. When he begun to gag in the corner, Tony threw an oil rag at him.
One day, a week before the summer holidays, Peter rounded the corner to find Tony stood on the porch, looking angry and tense and talking to a tall woman with red hair, tied up in a ponytail. Peter stopped and lingered, unsure of what to do. Besides him and May, he’d never seen anyone else talking to Tony. Even the grocery delivery guy simply put the bags in the garage and left.
After a while, the woman turned away, looking sullen and displeased, and slipped into a sleek black SUV, pulling off with a screech of her tires and the rev of her engine. By the time Peter reached the house, Tony was back inside, and he knocked quietly, leaning closer to the door.
Tony didn’t answer.
“Mr. Tony? I’m not sure what happened, but…If you’re not up for hanging out today, its cool. I brought soup, but I’ll leave yours on the porch. It might be hot, so…Be careful”. Peter stooped and left the thermos close to the door, before leaving. He felt uncomfortable for the rest of the day, longed to go see Tony, but everything in his gut told him to let him be for a time.
Whoever that man had been, he was clearly someone Tony didn’t like or want around.
Almost a whole week passed in which Tony didn’t answer the door, and by the Saturday, the first official day of the summer holidays, Peter was moping. Not to anyone that asked, but it was clear to even Ned that he’d been a little down lately, declining a celebratory LEGO fest in exchange for slinking up to his room.
No sooner had he toed off his shoes, the doorbell rung. Peter groaned, turning on his heel and abandoning his sweater on the staircase. It was probably another of Aunt May’s Amazon orders. Since she’d discovered the wonders of online shopping, Peter had learned their regular post-man was named Greg, he had two kids and a poodle, and was allergic to shrimp.
“What has she bought this ti- Tony?” Peter paused mid-sentence, eyes widening at the sight on his doorstep. Tony looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his face looking more lined than before, but he gave a weak smile up at Peter, still stiff and unsure.
“Hey, kiddo. Figured you might…I made spaghetti. And I still have your thermos. Was gonna work on the car a bit”.
Peter recognised it for the attempted invitation that it was, and didn’t bother to fight off his broad grin. “Lucky for you, I love spaghetti. I just gotta grab a sweater on” he beamed, practically flinging himself up the stairs. Tony’s spaghetti was amazing, with some kind of pink-ish sauce, little chunks of shrimp and prawns, all tangy and sweet.
He even let Peter help with the car. Or…Well. He let Peter hold the torch. And the wrench. But still.
He was still grinning when he skipped home that evening, and when he crawled into bed his dreams were filled with oil-stained arms and a low, rumbling voice. He gasped awake in the early hours, cock hard and leaning against his hip, Tony’s voice echoing in his skull.
He shouldn’t.
He bit his lip and reached down, whimpering as he wrapped a hand around himself. He was too hard to last more than a few minutes, stifling his yell of “Tony!” Into his pillow as he came. When he arrived at Tony’s house later in the day, he could barely look the man in the eyes, flustered and shy.
The holidays continued in a similar fashion. They hung out almost every day in the garage, often for an entire day. Peter felt guilty about abandoning Ned, but looking at Tony’s broad smile, listening to his quips, watching his abs flex under his shirts as he lifted things...It was worth it.
By the fourth week of his holidays, after numerous days of lounging together with takeout and Tony helping him with his homework, Peter piped up.
“Peter”.
“What?”
“My name. It’s Peter” he repeated, nudging Tony gently where they lay together on the floor of the garage, staring up at the underside of the car. It was almost complete. Something to do with the clutch, and then all it needed was new paint. “You keep calling me ‘kid’. So. Y’know. In case you’d forgotten” he hummed.
Besides him Tony stilled, only briefly, before relaxing and swatting at him. “You are a kid, though”.
“I’m sixteen. I’m not a kid” Peter huffed, rolling onto his side and kneeing Tony in the thigh. Tony let his head loll, looking across at him with dark, dark eyes, and Peter’s breath hitched. Tony was close enough to kiss. And god, Peter wanted to kiss him. Had spent the past few weeks staring at his body, his mouth when he talked, waking up at night hard and aching.
Peter let his gaze drop, to plush lips outlined by dark stubble, and then he pushed himself up, momentarily hovering over Tony as he got his legs beneath him. “And you’re an old man” he tried, teasing, tugging at a lock of hair at Tony’s temple.
For the briefest, briefest of moments, Tony’s gaze went even darker. Hungrier. Peter thought about it in the shower that night, two fingers stuffed inside himself with too-little prep, mewling against the shower tiles. Almost as if…
He begun to get bolder. Touched Tony more. Stood closer. Any excuse to be in his space. If Tony noticed he said nothing, only giving lingering, unreadable looks and only ever turning away with a poorly hidden smirk whenever Peter said anything just a little too obvious.
On the last week of his holidays, Peter was kneeling half over Tony, dabbing gingerly at a slice on his bicep while the man clutched an ice-pack to his knee. The cherry red car was out, and an old, 1957 Chrysler Saratoga was in. And apparently, angry.
“Kid, seriously. I’m fine” Tony huffed, swatting at him as he dabbed away another crust of blood, peering at the wound. It wasn’t that deep, but it had bled something fierce. Peter lifted his gaze, scowling at him.
“I’m not a kid!” He snarked, pressed a little too hard on the wound just because he could. Watched Tony flinch under his touch and instantly felt guilty. He pulled away the cloth and ducked down, pressed a kiss to the wound before he could ever think about it. Aunt May had always done it for him, kissing his ouchies better. He froze, lips against jagged skin.
“Kid” Tony rasped, looking down at him with wide, dark eyes. Peter jerked backwards, and huffed.
“Keep calling me kid, I’m gonna start calling you ‘old man’“ he scowled. He was about to say ‘Or worse, Dad’, but…That was a bumpy road and he wasn’t ready to loose whatever he had built with Tony. Not yet. The older man snorted back at him, eyes rolling, and reached out, fingers closing around his jaw gently to shake his head a little.
“Look at you. You are. That little baby face. And you’re so small, like a cat. All slender. Couldn’t even lift up the gearbox. All big eyes and too must trust. I could’ve been an old pervert or sex criminal and you just walked right up to me and wouldn’t leave” Tony murmured, voice half-gone and gaze fixed on where he held Peter’s jaw.
“Wouldn’t - Did not” Peter managed, though he was already getting hard, his breathing was already a little shorter. Sharper. Tony gave a deep breath, fingers flexing against his jaw.
“You’re just a kid. A little baby. All soft-cheeked and gentle. You’re a kid now and you’ll be a kid for a long time. Nothing like me”.
And. Huh.
Peter blinked, jaw still clasped in Tony’s grip, and he relaxed his body, inching a little closer. “What is it about that, then? Why is that such a bad thing?”
“Its not. Its not bad. I’m just…I’m the bad one. Christ. Kid. You’re - You sit here doing homework. You don’t even have facial hair yet. I bet you haven’t even popped a stiffy before”. The words startled Tony as much as Peter, both visibly jolting, and Tony immediately looked like he wanted to die.
“Hey! Not true! Every night this holiday I’ve done more than ‘pop a stiffy’ over y-”. Peter bit down on his tongue, hard, watched the way Tony’s eyes widened. Fuck. They both jerked backwards, equally as taken aback by the revelation. There was no doubt as to what Peter had been about to say. Now way he could laugh it off or change it; though the subject was bad enough.
“I…”
“Kid…”
Peter huffed, leaning back on his haunches and dropping the cloth. “What, you got a kink for the word or something, Mister Tony?” Peter grumbled, but he could see Tony physically tense up opposite him, and he looked up, watched the almost shameful way that Tony turned his gaze away.
It hit him.
“You…Do” he huffed numbly.
“Its not…Christ. Peter. I’m not a…I’m not attracted to kids. I don’t know what it is. I just…Fuck. Maybe you should be calling me an old pervert. Fuck. I…Peter. You have to believe I don’t..I’ve never touched a kid. Never. My youngest partner was twenty when I was thirty. She was a hooker in Dubai and…Wait. You’re a fucking kid. I shouldn’t be talking about hookers and swearing and-”
Peter clamped a hand over Tony’s mouth, shaking his head. Jesus. He knew it was true, though. Tony was a recluse and laughably inept at anything social, but he wasn’t some scorned kiddie-toucher banished to a quaint little town.
“I know, Tony. I know. And I believe you. But if its not that, then…What is it?”. Tony only blinked at him slowly, for several beats, and it was then that Peter realised that his hand was on Tony’s mouth, and the man couldn’t speak. Though he could well have moved it himself. He let it drop, flushing.
“I don’t know” Tony croaked helplessly, and he looked so small, so lost. It was instinct that had Peter leaning forwards, gathering Tony in a tight embrace. The older man stiffened, but then relaxed, hand hesitantly falling to Peter’s side, featherlight like he was scared to touch him.
“Its…You’re so delicate. So…Untouched. Like a painting. Pretty. You shouldn’t be touched. Not yet. Not by me. But I want to”. It made Peter’s spine tingle and arch, letting out a surprised breath against the curve of Tony’s jaw. Tony made him sound like the Mona Lisa or something.
“I’m not a good person, Peter. I’m…All these months, you don’t even know my last name. Half the town thinks I’m a murderer or some kind of lunatic. But I’m worse than that”. Tony practically breathed it into his shoulder, head falling. Peter clutched at him, suddenly scared. Worse than those things?
“Tony Stark”.
Peter paused. Was silent for such a long time that Tony tensed against him again, before he begun to pet gently at Tony’s shoulders. “…Who? I mean, the name is vaguely familiar. But…Who?”
Tony pulled away, leaned back, looking up at him with glossy eyes and a ludicrous expression. “Stark. Tony Stark”.
Peter raised a brow. “Bond, James Bond?”
“What? No. The weapons company? Stark Industries?” Tony asked after a pause, like it was information Peter ought to know. After another pause of his mind being ridiculously blank, Peter sat upright, head tilting.
“Oh! Yeah. Stark Industries. But…What about it?”
Tony blinked at him, slowly, like there was a punchline he’d missed, and then he was reaching out, crushing Peter to his chest to the boy fell half over him with a yelp, squeezing him gently.
“You’re - Unbelievable. Never change, kid. I’m…I did bad things. I killed people. Carried on the family name despite spending my life trying to outrun it. I…I was betrayed. So I fixed it, and I left. And I was supposed to keep my hands off anything good. Anyone good. And here you are”.
“Okay. Firstly? You gotta stop calling me ‘kid’ now I know its a kink and you don’t intend to do anything about it. Secondly…I don’t know what you did. Or what happened. But I know what you’ve been since you got here. Who you’ve become. And I think you’re a good man” he breathed, adjusting so he was no longer straining, half-straddling Tony.
“You shouldn’t…” Tony didn’t finish the sentence, and there were a million things he could’ve said. But Peter chose to ignore them all, squirming his way closer until he really was sat in Tony’s lap. And this was more than they’d ever done.
More than the one-armed hugs and lingering touches, more than leaning shoulder-to-shoulder eating noodles. More than Peter listing against Tony’s side in the early morning hours, maths homework forgotten on the bench and Tony sitting still, so still, so as not to wake him.
“I’m old enough to know ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’, Mr. Stark. Besides. This is just…Hugging. Right? Innocent” he hummed, even as he deliberately shifted on Tony’s lap, a little heavier than he ought to, spread his legs wider around Tony’s hips.
“Ki- Peter” Tony huffed against him, fingers tightening around the hem of his sweater. It wasn’t until Peter shifted again that he realised; Tony was hard. Well. Getting there, but hard enough for Peter to recognise it. To feel it, digging into the round meat of his asscheek.
“I don’t touch kids” Tony repeated, and Peter snorted softly, shaking his head as he gripped at Tony’s broad shoulders, muscle honed by years of hard work. Muscle that led up to rough stubble, a sharp jaw that Peter nosed at.
“Good thing I’m not actually a kid then, Mr. Stark. That means you can touch”.
Tony surged forwards on a growl, lay Peter out like a feast on the garage floor; but still hovered over him. Reluctant. Uncertain. Peter lifted his legs, wrapped them around Tony’s waist, tight and steady. “Kiddo…”
“Mm. Your kiddo. Or I could be. If you kissed me” Peter grinned, breathless and bold with the sweet taste of Tony so close. Mere inches. “Kiss me” Peter repeated, and Tony growled as he surged downwards.
When Tony came, it was with ‘kid’ sharp and electric on his tongue. And…Well. Peter felt a little mollified, so naturally, it led to round two, pressing Tony down against the concrete, milking him for all he was worth as a broken ‘Peter!’ cracked on his tongue like a prayer.
The rounds after that were just…Well.
Purely selfish.
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