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#i haven't worked anywhere else yet
ley-med · 2 months
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Hello.I’m seriously considering the ICU specialty.Can you tell me please some advantages and disadvantages of it ? :) Im pretty coolheaded,love to solve probs and small invasive procedures are ok ,too for me.. How does a life at ICU look like? I was on an ICU placement just once in my life as an internal medicine resident ,as a student ,and the work there really fascinated me.. Intubations,monitors,cardio versions.. Is it possible to specialise just in intensive care but not in anesthesiology?Thank You!
Hi Anon! You prompted me to ramble about one of my favourite things, my job, so sorry, long answer ahead...
To start with your last question, I know there are countries where intensive care and anaesthesiology are different specialities, but here it's one and the same. It is kind of possible to choose one or the other once you are an attending, and work at the right place, but you have to specialise in both. I started this residency because I was interested in intensive care, but my rotations started with anesthesia, and not gonna lie, I absolutely fell in love! Now doing both, I still say anesthesia is the real love of my life, and I can't imagine doing only intensive care without the relief anesthesia brings to it.
The pros of intensive care is that it's rarely dull, and when it's dull, the patient usually gets admitted back to their ward soon (yay!) (or you know, unfortunately there isn't much else to do for them, then the end of the story is near). It's important to like invasive procedures, because as they say, where there is a hole there's a tube, and where there is no hole, there will be... My favourite part about ICU is that we get to see and treat the patient as a whole human being, not just one organ or the other, because humans are a very complex system and you usually can't focus only on one part. Our job is mostly trying to hold up various balances, which will lead to the balance on the fine line between life and death. It is pretty exciting, in my opinion, but most of all, I just love knowing all these things about the human body. (And there is so much more I need to know...)
If you come from internal medicine, that's a huge advantage, but you will need to forget half of what you know. We don't really care about the long term stuff, we are always working in the present. It all needs to be done (almost) immediately, and needs to have an (almost) immediate effect. If we need some longer lasting solutions, we will absolutely consult medicine :) (Though in our hospital, we don't have any internal med wards, so it's usually the intensivists who get consulted for internal med questions anyway... But no we don't know everything, so far from it)
And many times, it's really only supporting the body until it heals on its own, with a little help here and there. Intensive care is really only about buying time...
The cons of intensive care, is that the stakes are always really really high. It's either an enormous win, which is one of the best feelings in the world, but most of the time, it all ends in death anyway, no matter what you do. Sometimes it feels like I just got a first class seat to watch people's suffering, without any way to help. I don't have any statistics at hand, but I would say 70% of our patients don't leave our ICU alive. We do what we can, but we aren't gods, and we can't cheat death. It can be really taxing, because while providing palliative care is just as important as any other kind of care, seeing gruesome death after gruesome death takes its toll, mental health wise. And that's why I say thank god it's a joint speciality with anesthesia, because when it all gets too much, a day in the OR will fill you up with instant successes (hopefully). When my patient wakes up and smiles at me, because they were so afraid but the dreaded surgery is finally over and they are alive? Always makes the world a brighter place.
One of the hardest parts for me, that sometimes you have to play god in this field, no matter how much you don't want to. The number of patients we can admit to the ICU is a definite number, so we have to decide who gets this chance at survival, and who to spare this torture. It's good that I'm still a resident, and the attending will make the final call, but nonetheless it is our responsibility...
On the bright side, this responsibility also brings me into the position of command sometimes, even if I'm only a mere resident. If they call me in for a consult, or if I end up in a situation which turns into an emergency, I am the team leader, and if I say come on we are putting our shoulders into saving this patient, everyone will work under my hands without a complaint.
This is all a teamwork. I think the whole of medicine is, but it applies to the ICU and OR tenfolds. Most ICU nurses aren't made of some delicate thing, it can be hard to earn their help, but without that, you are lost. Intensive care patients need constant supervision, and the nurses are the ones who are with them, they are the ones who know each beat of the patients' heart, they will be the ones constantly administering life saving medicines, and they will save your (and the patients') ass several times. And in cases where they are needed, we are dependent on our surgeons and traumatologists, because no matter how much we support this or that organ, as long as they don't work their magic, it's all a lost cause. (Honestly, sometimes you have to just stand there in awe, when you are thinking it's all lost, and they come up with such an ingenious solution...) Same in the operation room, it's a constant conversation and a very delicate cooperation between anesthesia, surgery, and the nurses.
To sum it up, it's all pretty hard work, with long 12 hour shifts that sometimes feel like 5 minutes because you just can't sit down and everyone is trying to die on you, and in the end you will find that the answer isn't that much different from internal medicine, it's usually either: oxygen, morphine, fluids, and or furosemide; you just have to figure out which one. And at times, figuring out isn't that exciting, it can consist of elevating the PEEP on the ventilation machine every hour or so, and hoping for the best. Those 12 hours will be the longest, with nothing to do, only waiting, and waiting...
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bsaka7 · 2 months
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on one hand i don't really know whats going on and i think i'm having at least 1 feeling and perhaps some confusion but on the other hand it's so interesting to have deadline day in a totally closed league market...i'm just fascinated.
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hugintheraven · 6 months
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How Bethesda fixed Vampires without realizing it
So there's a LOT of takes on vampires across media, and most of them are radically different from each other. The Elder Scrolls series has an interesting version that I haven't seen anywhere else, that incidentally fixes a bunch of lore issues with vampires, and yet Bethesda hasn't ever really leaned into any of that.
So, the issue with vampires in large RPGs like Elder Scrolls games, D&D, etc, is that a world where various elements of character building are supposed to be balanced, vampires are heavy on the upside and light on meaningful drawbacks. So in Oblivion, Bethesda completely reworked their vampires, coming at it with a blank slate:
Vampirism is a 4-stage affliction, with each stage increasing the numerous benefits of being a vampire as well as the middling drawbacks. Stage 4 brings with it all humanoid NPCs recognizing you as a ravenous monster and attacking you, basically wrecking the game. And, this is the unique part, you reduce stages by drinking blood. Being a vampire is LESSENED by doing the most vampiric thing out there, it actively makes you weaker.
And this is great. From a gameplay perspective, you vanish below ground to kill zombies/robots/whatever, and you grow stronger as the dungeon goes on. But if you don't rush through it, or if it's large, you surface having ignored your hunger for several days and have to do a whole second quest to sneak into town at night and drink blood, where the only reward is to engage with the game again. It's a drawback in the gameplay sense rather than the stats sense. And it lets game designers throw the player against weak vampires in town early on, and face dungeons full of max-bloodlust monsters later once the player knows how things work.
Meanwhile, from a lore perspective this is also great. Suddenly, it's not that vampires have to be evil, it's that they have a choice. A good person who flees their family to hide in a cave is going to starve, turning into a ravenous, uncontrolled, extremely strong monster. Someone who's comfortable sneaking around town drinking blood, meanwhile? They never lose control. They walk in the sun. They're perfectly human. Or as human as anyone can be while the blood of their neighbors flows in their veins.
And Bethesda doesn't DO ANYTHING with this. People you talk to in-game just treat it as "all vampires are evil, why would you expect anything else", when they've created a world where vampire morality is so much more interesting. The few vampires who exist in civilization that you're not supposed to kill don't really discuss their condition at all. And there's plenty of evil vampires choosing to live in caves running societies of vampires, when that makes no sense compared to basically any other way of life they could set up.
Bethesda games are a masterful disaster, in this as in everything else.
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queeriboh · 9 months
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yeah I don't think I'm going ti get to go out tonight /:
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uravitypng · 28 days
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𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)
word count: 4.4k words
a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader
content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)
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when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.
they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.
the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.
you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.
"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.
katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.
"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.
"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.
"oblivious?"
katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.
he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.
"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.
"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.
he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."
after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.
you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.
you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.
all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.
none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.
hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.
hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.
occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.
you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."
hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"
you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.
hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.
with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.
you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.
you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.
"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.
his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."
"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.
"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."
he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.
but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.
he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.
mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.
mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.
whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.
beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.
the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.
"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.
the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.
"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.
now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.
as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.
she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."
"already?"
mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.
eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.
after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.
whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.
sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.
the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.
"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.
you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.
before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.
ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.
when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.
that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.
"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.
out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.
the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.
originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.
not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.
denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.
if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.
at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"
your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .
denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.
"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.
his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.
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argreion · 2 months
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Just a Deal
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V, breeding kink/talk, mating press, cream pies, Leon being old and aching, talks of eating out/cunnilingus, talks of Advil (reader using the deal of Advil jokingly for sex). Leon wondering if he's mid.
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.5k
𝑵𝒊���𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Well, this is my somewhat proud attempt to come back to writing smut. I want to write more, so... Yeah, there's that! I'd call this a valiant attempt, y'know? Breeding kink is yummy. Don't murder me if there's a mistake, I haven't written actual smut in so long. :')
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“Just an idea.” You said, glancing over at the male with a small smirk. Talk of sex over dinner? Maybe you shouldn't have waited till he got home from a mission. Hearing the pop of his back and the pained groans miles away from the apartment. Yet, you have to make a deal sweeter; Advil. The baby he loved, would sing it to sleep if he could. Pop a few and it worked wonders on him.
“That idea is…” What does he respond with? Makes his dick hard? The idea of folding his lover? Tapping his fork against the ceramic—reminds you to scold him later for that. Fine china was getting harder to get, and you’d rather it not have scratches on it when it’s for sale.  “I wouldn't mind doing it if you'd want me to. Sounds interesting, doll. Didn’t know you’d like me to ‘ruin your pussy like it’s your last day alive. To fuck your babies into you’.”
“Never say that out loud ever again, my soul left my body for a few seconds.” You sighed, hand already coming to rub your face. Cheeks were flush from the embarrassment of him being blunt. Someone above, please shut this man up. 
“I’ll let you finish up here, ‘kay? Don’t keep me waiting too long, supercop.”
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Two hours later, dinner finished, and clothes are torn and flung away.
Forced into a mating press against your shared bed. Your legs loosely around his hips, moving with each thrust. Balls slapping against your ass as Leon pressed you deeper into the bed. Soft moans came from your lips at his pace. Curling up to hit your core in just the right places. Leaking more than you should’ve, silly little idea.
His hands came to hold your upper back, making your body flush against his. “What, thought you wanted this, doll? Wanted to be full of babies, right?” He taunted, wanting to rub it in your face. Rub it in your face that you weren't ready for him—weren’t ready for subpar dick. You’d thought he’d be slow, boring, but no, someone liked this idea. The idea of breeding had gotten to him. So much so that he manhandled you and did it himself.
“Mmmm, look at you, already willing to become a mama. Can’t wait to cream this pussy...” Leon leaned in, his lips brushing against your ears. “We aren’t wasting any drop either, doll. You know the rule. Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.”
His chest rumbled as he felt you tighten around him. Attempting to milk him of his worth. He was doing something right. Wringing out moans from your lips left and right. Was doing something right with the way this was going.
“You like that, don't you?” He purred, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Sweating at the extortion of his aging body. Nipping at the skin, he quickened his pace. Little red marks litter your upper torso, shoulder-to-shoulder.  “Didn’t know I had a whore in my apartment. Should’ve thought of this sooner.”
You moaned in response, the lewdity had you rolling. ‘Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.' It was bad that your baby fever had already made you so… Aroused. Choose a mating press over anything else for merely that—breeding kink on an all-time high from that. Over the kitchen counter, on his motorcycle, in the car, anywhere. The thoughts running through your head made you clench, erupting a groan from Leon's lips.
“Seems my question is already answered—you are a whore. A cute one at that.”
Leon purred in delight, satisfied by your response. Hands moving from behind your back to beside your head. Engaging your head as he maneuvered himself comfortably so that he could get rougher. Force himself deeper, make him feel like he could do something.
Yet, when someone musters up all their strength; means they crash and fall harder—especially on their lover.
With each harsh thrust, Leon could feel himself being drained. His old age was catching up to him, as was the ache in his back. Beginning to bubble up from his lower back to the beginning of his spine. Arched over his love like a cat hissing in old-timey movies. Your fingers grasping at his back and legs tightening around him. Exposing your neck to the open-mouthed kissing he brought on you. Stubble brushing against your delicate skin, vulnerable to a quick hickey.
More moans came from your mouth as he buried himself inside you. Sent you spiraling with each slam of his hips. A cloudy ring started to form and leak down onto the bed. Needed this more often, needed to be manhandled.
“Almost there…” He panted after each word he spoke. You could feel pity in your chest as you watched him struggle. Stamina wasn’t his strong suit anymore, sadly. Reminds you of when he was better in his younger days. Twenty-seven and lasting two to four rounds.
Might buy an extra bottle of Advil, just for him. 
In the back of his mind, he was cursing himself out for not being you to a climax. He knew worth wasn't purely based on orgasms or how experienced he was. Gosh darn it, though, made him feel horrible. Useless, or some other word Rebecca used that he couldn't remember. 
Being brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of nails piercing his skin would leave a mark he’d have to explain at work. Your back arching into his chest surprised him—he had done it. Blue eyes widened as you seized in his grasp, mouth agape as you gushed around him. If he had only recorded this, he'd love every second of it. Imagining you sucking him in every way he could think possible. Oddly, brought a smile to his face, alongside the ego boost. 
“That's it, let it out. I gotcha, pretty girl.” Leon whispered, rubbing your cheek as your eyes fluttered. One second they were squeezed shut, and now it felt like he was looking down at the prettiest girl in the world. That pleased look in your eyes made his balls tighten. His eyes fluttered, as his hips stuttered. Oh, fuck him.
“Go ahead and let that pussy cry more for me… So fuckin' gorgeous. Deserves this so badly.”
He'd already reached his peak, cumming inside your walls, panting heavily. Wish he lasted longer than this. Arms encircling your head as he pressed himself fully into you. The sweat from earlier now oozing from the bedsheets. Squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly emptied himself into you. Counting his blessings as you'd nag him to help change the bedsheets later.
The drive slowly faded into stillness. Finally resting inside you as he seemed to come down from the quick high. In some ways, it felt anticlimactic. An anticlimactic filling that leaked down onto the bedsheets. Cloudy ring, now a creamy white. Fresh new stain to add to the collection.
“I'm getting old, aren't I?” Leon asked himself out loud, trying to break the silence. It felt awkward, impregnated—something he didn't like. Too serious for his brain to handle.
“Maybe.” Was all you said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It's certainly getting old that you're laying on me now.”
“Forgot about that, sorry.”
You could feel the bed dripping beside you as he moved off. Letting himself curl up beside you, not wanting to waste a drop in you. Leon felt fragile for some reason, like a shivering old man in your head. Curled up beside his wife—crying, ‘cause he ain't got no one better. Maybe calling him an old man suited Leon now.
“I mean, that wasn't amazing.”
You paused; maybe you should've chosen your words more carefully. Leon was sensitive. Sex didn't feel amazing like it did in books or movies. Could women get post-nut clarity? Was that even a thing? Were you having that, or were you just not womaning? Maybe you should save yourself thinking for another time. 
“But you do better than a lot of guys, at least. For a super awkward man, who crashes almost every vehicle he drives, and can't tie a tie, you did well. Mating press might be your forte in sex positions.”
A smile came to your lips, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. Pleasantries aside, he'd take it over you using a vibrator or dildo. Enjoyed watching it, but hated not being the one to do it. Ok, well, he's just picky in that regard. A bit of a bummer, wouldn't you think?
Well, there was something he wouldn't be bummed out about...
Leaning over, your noses barely touching as you asked the one important question on the tip of your tongue, “If I get you an extra bottle of Advil… Will you eat me out?”
The response couldn't get any better, as he smirked.
“If you get me ice cream, I will.”
“You've got cream right here, dumbass.”
The chuckle that left your lips felt sinister. Followed by a smirk as you straddled him. Hands pressed against the sheets as you rested mere inches above his face. Dripping down onto his dumbfounded face.
“Well? Get to it, lover boy.”
Oh, he loved this game again.
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𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring
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xamag-draws · 25 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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andvys · 2 months
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life
Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.
Word count: 7.4k+
Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.
Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 
His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 
Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 
Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 
The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 
Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 
But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 
You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.
Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 
The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 
The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 
Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 
He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 
Has it always been that way? 
Have you always been on his mind? 
Or is it something new?
An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 
You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 
It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 
Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 
A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 
Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 
Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 
As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 
He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 
He needs to get this out of his system. 
He needs to get you out of his system. 
And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 
He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 
He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 
He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 
By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.
You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 
He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 
“Hey guys.”
Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”
Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 
You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 
“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 
You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 
“Hey, Lego head.”
Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 
“Blondie,” he nods. 
Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 
“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 
“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 
You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 
Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 
You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 
“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 
Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 
He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 
Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 
Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 
Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 
“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 
The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 
Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 
You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 
Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 
“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 
“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 
“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 
Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 
“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 
Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 
“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”
He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 
“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 
Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 
“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”
You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 
The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 
He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 
Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.
You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 
Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 
“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 
Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 
“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”
“What opinion?” Steve asks. 
You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”
Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 
“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”
Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 
“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.
Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 
You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 
Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 
“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 
“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”
Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 
“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 
Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 
“Told you.”
“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 
Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 
“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 
Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 
“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 
You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 
Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 
“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 
“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 
You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 
He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 
He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 
After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 
You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 
The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.
“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 
Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 
Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.
“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 
Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 
When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 
His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 
Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 
Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 
“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 
He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 
Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 
The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.
Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.
“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 
Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”
“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”
“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.
“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 
Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 
He swats your hand away, snorting. 
“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 
“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 
You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 
He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 
“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 
Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 
There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 
You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 
Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.
And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 
And this is where the real teasing begins. 
Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 
Holy fuck. 
Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 
Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 
By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 
And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 
“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 
The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 
He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 
He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.
But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 
You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 
You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 
Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 
So what is left for him to do? 
Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 
He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 
He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 
So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 
He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 
Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 
He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 
You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 
He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.
“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”
You clear your throat. 
Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 
“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 
“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 
You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”
Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 
“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 
You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 
“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 
He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”
A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”
Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 
He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 
He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 
You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 
Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 
The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 
“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 
You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 
He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 
Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 
Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 
“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 
“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 
You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 
“See ya,” he chuckles. 
With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 
“Good luck, man.”
“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 
“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 
You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 
Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 
He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 
He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 
“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”
You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”
Steve chuckles, nodding. 
“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.
So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 
“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”
Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 
He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 
“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 
Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 
You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 
“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 
He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”
You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”
“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 
You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 
“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 
“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”
“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 
“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 
A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 
Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 
The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 
Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 
But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 
He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 
The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 
Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 
Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 
If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.
But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 
You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 
He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 
He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 
Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 
He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 
“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 
You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 
“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 
He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 
You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 
“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 
Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 
Images of you… half naked. 
“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 
“Uh huh…”
“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 
And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 
You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 
He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 
You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 
“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 
Fuck. 
His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 
The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 
That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 
A game. 
He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 
You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 
He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 
Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 
He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 
That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 
He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 
Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 
He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 
He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 
He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.
“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 
He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 
His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 
And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 
Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 
But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 
Nothing that he could possibly do will. 
He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 
He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.
Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 
Yeah. Tomorrow. 
tagging friends and mutuals
@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles
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eyrieofsynapses · 5 months
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why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw��more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
---
I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
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Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
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Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
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(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
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—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
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—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
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We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
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First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
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It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
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The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
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What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
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They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
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fox-guardian · 23 days
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Alice has been working at the OIAR for nearly a decade. Sam told her the job has made her really morbid, meaning they probably haven't talked much since before she started getting morbid, or this wouldn't be news to him. Meaning they probably haven't talked much since around when she started the job. How long were they actually together? 2 years minimum ("you were together for years" plural), but it could've been longer. How serious were they? Did they live together by then? Was one of them thinking about marriage? What drove them apart? It probably wasn't some great betrayal, or else they wouldn't be so close still. Did it build up slowly over time? Was it just a matter of realizing they didn't work romantically? Or was it a matter of lifestyle incompatibility (night job + day job = I never get to see you)? Did one of them have a nasty habit they couldn't quit? Maybe one of them changed suddenly and they were too different now, and they couldn't work out. What happened? Who split with who, or was it mutual and amicable? Why is it so hard for Alice to let go while Sam seems perfectly fine?
How did Sam find out about the job in the first place? He's already vaguely mentioned having a rough time and that's why he needed the job. Do you think he called her up because he didn't have anyone else to turn to? Or he needed that special Alice flavor of comfort? Maybe he went in asking if she knew anywhere that was hiring, maybe he just wanted to talk about literally anything else and Teddy's leaving came up naturally.
Do you think Alice thought she'd moved on? Do you think hearing Sam's voice again tore an old wound open? Do you think she struggled telling him about the position, knowing how rough of a job it is, but also knowing, suddenly, how much she missed him? Do you think she thought she'd be fine after the initial shock of hearing from him again? Spending time with him at work was easy, since he seemed cool with the whole exes thing. Do you think her heart sank when Celia showed up and she caught Sam doing all the little things she remembered him doing for her? Do you think it hurts, having him so close and yet completely uninterested now, while she has to convince herself she isn't aching?
What happened?
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Text
When the Corroded Coffin makes it, Eddie leans into the success completely. He can't really help it, he never thought he'd make it anywhere, wouldn't even have a moderately comfortable life and now he's here, people love him, want him, think he's worth their time. It's intoxicating and he feels like if he slows down for just a second, he'll lose it all.
Steve is supportive, of course he is. It's everything Eddie's ever wanted, success in the world and the most amazing person at home, loving him unconditionally. But Eddie grows more and more frantic about his work, tours, everything. He loves Steve so much, he talks about him in awards ceremonies, in interviews and credits him as his forever muse that he maybe forgets a little that random people who he'll never meet hear more about his love for his boyfriend than Steve himself.
Maybe if he took a moment to think, Eddie would have remembered that Steve was left alone for most of his teenage years, that the love he had was real but distant. That this love always stopped him from asking for more, asking for time spent together, for actions, not words. But he didn't.
After many dinners wrapped in cellophane and tossed in the fridge, postponed dates, hurried goodbye kisses and whispered promises over the phone that never come true, it happens. Steve doesn't blame him, doesn't scream or snap, but Eddie would have preferred if he did. He just calmly tells him that he loves him, will always love Eddie and he can't imagine there being anyone else, but he finally realized that while he's happy for Eddie, he can't live through someone else's dream. He needs, wants more than another empty house and waiting, so much waiting. He kisses Eddie goodbye and whispers, "I'm so happy you managed to break your cycle, Eddie. The crime, poverty...I'm so proud of you. But now I need to break my own."
---
As Steve fully settles in his own apartment almost a year later, heart aching but finally not paralyzed, he turns on the radio and hears a familiar voice, like the sweetest pain. He sings a new song, one that Steve doesn't know.
I painted your room at midnight
So I'd know yesterday was over
I put all your books on the top shelf
Even the one with the four leaf clover
Man, I'm getting older
I took all your pictures off the wall
And wrapped them in a newspaper blanket
I haven't slept in what seems like a century
And now I can barely breathe
Just like a crow chasing the butterfly
Dandelions lost in the summer sky
When you and I were getting high as outer space
I never thought you'd slip away
I guess I was just a little too late
Your words still serenade me
Your lullabies won't let me sleep
I've never heard such a haunting melody
Oh, it's killing me
You know I can barely breathe
Just like a crow chasing the butterfly
Dandelions lost in the summer sky
When you and I were getting high as outer space
I never thought you'd slip away
I guess I was just a little too late
The last soft tones finish and Steve takes a deep breath, shaky and uncertain. He loves his new life, loves what he's doing, studying to save lives, and yet...
It's almost funny. They broke up a year ago, yet Eddie never left him behind. There was no pressure to get back together, no unwanted declarations of love, just...showing. Steve told Eddie that he needed actions, not words, and here he was, for a year, giving Steve the space he needed but always checking in, always making sure Steve was okay.
Eddie's words were his actions and Steve finally understands how to break his own cycle. Being alone doesn't mean he's lonely. Not when Eddie's thoughts never leave him.
Not when he remembers the four leaf clover he scribbled into his textbook.
When he says he always thinks of Steve when seeing dandelions, so bright and comforting, like home.
The nights they spent together, drunk on each other's presence.
And the melody Steve always hummed when he got out of shower.
He reaches for his phone, their careful messages blinking at him, making him wonder how this love can feel so distant yet so real.
I hope your classes are going well, Stevie.
Wayne says hi. He says he'll call you next Tuesday.
I hope you found what you were looking for.
I hope you're happy.
I'm thinking about you, always.
He types something cheesy and ridiculous, but he can't help himself. He just feels loved, seen.
What if I told you that you aren't too late, crow?
His phone dings back almost immediately and he smiles.
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genericpuff · 1 month
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Rest in peace (for now) Woven.
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This is going to keep happening, and I don't think I'm far off in knowing that it's not a fault of the creators - it's undoubtedly a fault of the system that's taking advantage of the creators and the work they pour themselves into.
If you want to support Lark&Wren as they transition away from Webtoons, please consider supporting their Patreon and/or reading Woven while it wraps up its final episodes on Webtoons. Due to their contract, they cannot post Woven anywhere else or continue the story for a couple years - so please take that time to read it if you haven't yet, as well as their other works.
And of course, to Lark&Wren - I wish you the best of luck in finding better opportunities for your voices and work elsewhere! Woven is a wonderful piece of work that you should be proud of and it deserves to be shared ... even if it takes time while you wait out the contract. Hang in there, keep up the amazing work <3
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prismatoxic · 2 months
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okay, shipping brainrot from my last post aside, i'm still thinking about the shapeshifter arc. the other sites i use don't have inline posting or do but it's clunky, so i guess i'm theorizing here. some of this may seem obvious; bear with me, i'm not trying to be patronizing, just working through things. this will probably be long.
(edit: i've since learned there's canon explanations for all of this. regrettably i don't like them. enjoy my ideas of what would be better maybe? but keep in mind i wrote this before i knew it had been explained anywhere else.)
laios reveals what he knows of shapeshifters, and that they function on memory:
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no one ever really suggests in chapters 39 or 40 who thought of which fake except in the case of which ones laios must have thought of, but i want to posit who i think each one came from, and what it means narratively if i'm right. so, mostly a thought experiment/character study that i could be wrong about or that was never meant to be clearly defined in the first place. but maybe fun to think about? (i'm sure other people have done this before too, but i think it'll be fun to write up.)
from the outset, i think it's worth mentioning that chilchuck knows all three laios fakes are, in fact, fakes. two chilchucks say this, but the one on the right is the real one. senshi and marcille immediately corroborate this, though we can't tell which of them it is except that it's not any of the really obvious fakes.
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what i think this suggests is that, brought to the surface, the warped perceptions of the rest of the party that chilchuck, senshi, and marcille have can be easily discerned when compared with the real thing. each of these laioses is from one of them, but they immediately figure out none of them are right with the real laios right there in the room. this is important.
as for who's who...
i think it's fair to assume that giant laios is from chilchuck. laios is the tallest member of their party, at six feet; while chilchuck sees marcille and senshi as their correct heights, laios is a giant to him, and his bulky armor doesn't help. that's why, even if this is his perception, it's glaringly obvious that it's wrong as soon as it's made physical. it's the only big one, and easily falls into the camp of "doesn't seem to know much about monsters" that the others also do.
stupid laios is, i think, from marcille. because the giant one is so likely chilchuck's and i don't think senshi sees laios as someone who stupidly wants to eat everything (even if senshi's opinion of him isn't stellar right now, "i have to eat it" wouldn't be paired with being an idiot to senshi), it tracks that marcille would be the one to remember him this way. to someone who doesn't appreciate their monster eating and otherwise thinks he's an idiot just as much as the others do, dumbly muttering about eating things seems like a reasonable portrayal of laios.
feminine laios, then, is from senshi. i think his physical perception of the other party members is the most off-base; this is likely because he's known them for the least amount of time, and his idea of what they look like is based more on their races than anything else. i think the resemblance to falin might not be intentional--someone suggested to me the other day that the dwarf perception of tall-men is probably more feminine in contrast to how Macho dwarfs are. i think that makes sense (if it ever comes up canonically, i haven't seen it yet). laios and falin do just... look like gender-swapped versions of each other, also. so if senshi sees laios as a feminine person, well... that just winds up looking like falin.
so this leaves us with only the real laios. confronted with their perceptions of him, his friends can immediately tell all three are incorrect.
moving on, we eliminate the three most obvious fakes from the rest of the party, starting with marcille:
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if we take into account what i just said about senshi, i think this is his. racial stereotypes about elves being what they are, him not knowing the party as well as the other members do... she stands out, and that's why.
now this is where things start to get interesting.
the next two fakes to be eliminated aren't so blatantly incorrect that they can be struck right out at a glance, but it's not hard to notice the flaws when you look closer, and chilchucks A and B are the ones to point it out. chilchuck is naturally observant; most of his fakes seem to emulate this. (the one who addresses the fakes is A, the real one, but B is proving himself able to pick up on the things A notices. this is important.)
notably, chilchuck and senshi assume these must be laios's versions of them.
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we can assume this is correct, if we want to. we can take the framing of this as being an intentional reflection of the truth.
or... or... we can look a little deeper. we can wonder if, perhaps, this isn't a reflection of laios, but a reflection of his friends and what they think of him. laios may not immediately notice the problems, but i don't think it's because he doesn't remember these details. i don't think laios sees much of anything in vague terms; he's observant in his own right, but in ways he doesn't really recognize, nor does anyone else. i think he was so focused on their faces and mannerisms that he didn't notice the bigger picture, glossing over something because so many other factors are at play.
senshi and chilchuck think laios doesn't take notice of things, but the vast majority of the shapeshifter arc is about them and marcille not trusting laios's judgement as it is, given how things went recently. is it possible there's more to their assumptions here than what the text explicitly says? i think so!
so then who do these two belong to? marcille, i think.
if we assume dumb laios is hers, then we can also assume her perceptions of the others are kind of broad and vague. she doesn't think poorly of them, necessarily (at least not in as obvious a way as she does with laios, who, i'll remind you, she's currently upset with), but she doesn't commit unimportant details to memory, like chilchuck's neck band or the damage to senshi's helmet.
we've got three more "obvious" fakes to get through, and laios offers another lore tidbit on how the shapeshifters work:
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anyway, the first of the next round is marcille again, setting the stage for how these three next fakes are eliminated.
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marcille changes her hairstyle all the time, so this isn't a surprise. the last one pictured here winds up being our next fake, as indicated by her grimoire:
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so the fake marcille in this section is the one with the most visibly different hair texture (who even draws attention to this), and the spellbook that's woefully incompetent. i think she's from chilchuck.
he's observant, as i said before; even if he didn't commit her hair to memory, he did remember the stuff she's said about how important hair is to magic. maybe that's why the texture is so striking. more importantly, chilchuck isn't wary of magic quite the way senshi is, but he also doesn't understand it. the general tone of the low-quality grimoire also just... sounds like the way he'd frame something like that. (plus, the "how to turn back time" bit is a thing he specifically called her on when she suggested it a few chapters ago.)
so the next fake chilchuck and senshi are revealed via their tools:
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i think the chubby-cheeked chilchuck with the simple lockpicks is from senshi, and i think the ordinary-looking senshi with the simple cookware is from chilchuck. the former speaks for itself--senshi sees chilchuck as a child, and knows absolutely nothing about picking locks. as for the fake senshi, chilchuck has a decent mental image of him but knows nothing about cookware.
so now we're down to the final three fakes, and there's only one person left who they could be from: laios. nobody thinks this, not even laios himself, but i want to explore the concept because i think it has extreme merit. the three remaining fakes have some key similarities between them, namely in that they're all close enough interpretations that making a distinction is difficult. they look a tiny bit different, but both the real people and their fakes make plausible cases for why they're the actual person. i want to talk about why i think laios is the one who made that so, and what that means about him.
chapter 39 ends with all his companions--real and fake--doubting his skills. seeing a pattern?
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chapter 40 opens with laios determined to regain his friends' trust in him...
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...while his friends (and their fakes) talk about how he's liable to like the fakes more, because they're monsters.
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this is a needlessly cruel interpretation of laios, but after how things went post-falin-rescue, it's not a surprise. they see him as reckless and single-minded, more interested in the things he's weird about than in the people around him.
laios is really bad at talking about what he's thinking--not because he's hiding it, but because it doesn't occur to him that it's important. meeting the lunatic magician in the paintings is a prime example of this, but he does it a lot. they likely have no idea why he told toshiro about falin and the black magic; to them, laios was being flippant with sensitive information, not worrying about their safety. to laios? he was trying to get help. he trusted toshiro, and his perception of their friendship made him think the information would help them gain an ally who cared about falin as much as they do. he wasn't trying to put falin or marcille in danger--far from it, in fact. but he didn't tell his friends about his thought process. he didn't think it was important to share.
(he's autistic but we all know this. moving on)
so, we have laios's plan: the pairs cook together, while he watches for behavioral differences to discern who's who. it doesn't occur to him, or anyone else, that the people he's watching for mistakes are his own perceptions of his friends. and now we get into the meat of why i wanted to write this post.
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assuming i'm correct... let's talk about laios's view of his friends, and how he challenges those perceptions.
starting with my favorite, chilchuck:
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chilchuck A, of course, is in fact the real one. this is a pretty significant character moment for him too, in my opinion; we know he has difficulty expressing his emotions, and that a lot of his conflicts so far have stemmed from that. the fact that "chilchuck B asked for help with a menial task" is a gotcha moment to him is... telling. not only because it's so obvious to him, but because it's not obvious to any of his companions. he thinks they know this about him, but he's never openly expressed anything to make them think this is an issue he'd have, in addition to having sought help in the past.
his "convictions and pride and all that" seems to them like someone trying to convince them of something, not someone reminding them of facts he assumes they know.
anyway, back to laios. if we accept that chilchuck B is made from his memories, this suggests several things. first of all, chilchuck B is, despite his softer eyes and willingness to ask for help, still a fairly accurate portrayal of chilchuck. he's easily annoyed and he's observant, two traits chilchuck is known for. i think the reason chilchuck B has the kinder eyes and the more gentle disposition is because to laios, those things are indicative of someone being a good person, and he very much thinks chilchuck is a good person.
we know laios isn't especially good at reading people in general. thus, his idea of who his friends are is skewed in broad strokes, but not in the ways they think. he knows who chilchuck is, but he also associates chilchuck with his own ideas of what makes someone "good", which results in a chilchuck who's less rough around the edges. confronted with this--the real chilchuck asking him if he can tell--laios compares the two and thinks, reasonably speaking, the nicer one who trusts him has to be the friend he respects so much.
senshi and marcille also want to accept this chilchuck, likely for similar reasons. they also respect and care for him; they've seen him go through a lot. laios's ideal of him is just that, ideal. in a roundabout way, it's only their deep fondness for who chilchuck really is that makes them want to see him this way.
next up, we have marcille.
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the fake, marcille A, is a radical departure from what makes chilchuck B a fake. laios notes that the real marcille is exactly the same as she always is. the reason, then, that marcille A confuses him--and the others--is that after everything they've been through, their perception of her has changed radically.
if we look back to senshi and chilchuck's marcilles, it's readily apparent when they're eliminated that both interpretations hinge on the knowledge that she performs black magic. senshi's tries to use it to prove herself; chilchuck's has a grimoire loudly proclaiming it's what she does. contrast this to marcille A: she doesn't mention black magic at all, and her grimoire looks strikingly similar to the real one.
that's because laios doesn't think her performing black magic changes anything about who she is. her doing so proved her to be just as dedicated to falin as he himself is, and the knowledge that her goals involve it doesn't faze him. (additionally, marcille has been teaching him magic, and falin had tried in the past. though his image of a grimoire is flawed to someone experienced, to anyone else it looks fine.) thus, marcille A isn't a flagrant black magic wielder; she's someone who's been fundamentally changed by what they--and falin--went through.
let's go back to chapter 27:
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chilchuck and senshi are appalled, and will continue to be. while they ultimately don't prevent marcille from doing this, and care enough about both her and laios (and in chilchuck's case, falin as well) to be in tentative support, this changes their view of her in a negative way. she's dangerous now, in a way she wasn't before, but she's still marcille--goofy and a little reckless. thus, their views of her, and the illusions that result.
laios's opinion of her changes for the better.
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she is, all at once, both competent and loyally dedicated. she will stop at nothing to help falin. whatever goofiness she exhibited before now is gone, replaced by the cold demeanor of someone who is doing something extremely dangerous for reasons that are inherently selfish, but ultimately too important to reject.
thus, we return to marcille A: cold, sharp, dedicated. not reckless or goofy, but methodical and haunted. she may have returned to "normal" since they left the castle town, but laios's opinion of her, and understanding of her love for falin, has been forever changed.
so faced with the real marcille--still silly, still whining, still frequently annoyed with him--he's confused, because that's deeply familiar, but it doesn't line up with what he knows about her now.
the truth, of course, is nuanced--these things are true about marcille, but only under duress; it's similar to how laios becomes a competent leader when the going gets tough. she has this within her, but it's not her default state of being. still, the shapeshifter picks up on the strongest memories laios has of her, this new interpretation of someone he thought he knew.
now then--onto senshi, the punchline of this particular joke about the differences between the copies. i still think it says a lot.
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i think this one speaks for itself, though i find chilchuck's agreement interesting. senshi is the newest member of the team; little is known about him. laios happily notes that senshi "always looks cool" while chilchuck says he looks normal (and chilchuck B insults the real one). laios sees senshi this way because he thinks senshi is cool as hell, and this manifests in an idealized version of a face he's not as familiar with as he is with chilchuck and marcille.
this is clearly comedy, but it also speaks to the same desire to see the best in the rest of the party. marcille is the only one who notices likely because her opinion of senshi isn't so romanticized. chilchuck's senshi, of note, wasn't a perfect replica: we don't see much of him after the obvious fakes are hauled off, but he's a little squashed (he's the top one):
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which indicates that chilchuck's visual memory of senshi is already flawed. if we compare this to giant laios and the marcille with the unique hair texture, it tells us chilchuck's attention to detail is more specific than the others'; he can remember the hole in the helmet, the importance of hair, but he doesn't quite see the bigger picture. giant laios is also surprisingly... rugged? which i imagine has to do with chilchuck's perception of him as a tall-man. (or maybe how he clearly has trouble seeing laios's face half the time, lmao...)
anyway. laios thinks senshi is super cool and chilchuck has an imperfect idea of what senshi look like as it is. (i wonder if chilchuck is some degree of faceblind? not enough to not recognize someone at all, but can't pinpoint specifics.)
and so, we arrive at the moment of truth.
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so let's go over what i'm theorizing here... all the remaining fakes are illusions based on how laios sees his friends. the illusions manage to make mistakes that reveal the truth to him, but i think the reason for that harkens back to what laios said earlier... the illusions are being updated over time.
laios isn't considering any of the things that give the fakes away until this moment. if it had taken a little longer to resolve things, maybe they'd have started course-correcting, but they aren't given the chance. laios makes sure they aren't--he acts very quickly. even as he presents the three pairs with his findings, he's aware that everything will fall apart as soon as he does... and he's banking on that. while the shapeshifter illusions defend themselves from being killed, he gets right to the heart of the matter in the only way he knows how: confronting the actual monster involved.
when all's said and done, laios reveals how he figured it out:
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potentially of note, all of these details happened before the red dragon fight. chilchuck fighting a mimic and revealing his history with them, senshi gushing about the dungeon's ecosystem, and marcille being attacked by the undine weren't super recent memories. when laios brought them forth in his mind, he had a delay before the shapeshifter updated its illusions.
well... except with marcille. marcille A actually didn't show her hand so easily; it was the real marcille's carelessness that proved her identity.
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but what this suggests is that, when confronted with the realities of marcille versus his idealized version of her, laios had to make a choice: did it make more sense for her to have been radically changed by the revival and subsequent loss of falin, or was the presence of a marcille he knew so well proof of an illusion? she was the one who was the most different, and as such, the contrast was the same one that eliminated all three laioses at the start: with the real thing in the room, the fake became apparent.
so, to reach a conclusion: one again, laios has proven he's not as scatterbrained as his companions think, but this time he did so on a more personal level than usual. to them, he reveals that he knows their quirks enough to define them by such when they're otherwise faced with convincing copies. to us, the readers, if we accept what i've suggested here... he's revealed a lot more. he respects, admires, and idolizes his friends, all out of fondness: he wants to see them in an ideal way, whatever that means for each of them as individuals.
anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk
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jareaul0ver · 4 days
Note
Nika is SUCHHHHH gf material I feel like she’d be the biggest simp
my god she would be.
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nika simp hc's
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SFW
she's always surprising you with small gits
little bouquets of flowers, bracelets, rings, you name it and shes getting it for you
shes in awe of you every time you dress up for a night out, or even when the two of you are just relaxing in bed
"you look so pretty, bebo" she always posts you on her story with some sort of little caption like "my gorgeous girl" "pretty thang"
whenever you're out in public and someone starts hitting on you, she gets super defensive
"my girlfriend is beautiful, isn't she?" "surprised she's single? she isn't, she's with me"
if you two don't spend the night together, she makes sure to call you and say "goodnight, i love you" or "goodmorning, i love you" every time
she'll send you cute texts of things she's doing throughout her day because she just can't stop thinking about you she has to make sure to include you in everything, she loves keeping you in the loop
she also loves when you just talk her ear off
"like i was saying, she was being a total bitch about it! like seriously, how can you give so much work outside of class.." she ends up just staring at you while you talk
she's always touching you.
when you're in public it's less obvious, only linking pinkies or holding hands, but if you're anywhere else she has her hands all over you; your waist, your shoulders, your thighs, she's probably giving you a back rub too that girl just cannot keep her hands off of you
pet names are huge for her
she loves calling you baby, love, some croatian pet names, honey, all the cute stuff
she secretly takes pics of you all the time
on one of your birthdays she surprises you with a book of all the pictures she's taken of you while you've been together she calls it her memory book, and it makes you cry because she loves you enough to keep all these pics
always tells you how proud of you she is
good grade on an exam? proud struggling to do something simple and you finally get it done? proud doing nothing special at all to make her say shes proud? proud she is literally just proud to call you her girlfriend
NSFW
she loves taking care of you in bed
she always makes sure you cum, and if you give to her, she has to give back to you if you want her to
sex is usually pretty soft, but sometimes she loves when you let her do as she pleases
she usually takes the opportunity to make sure it's entirely focused on you
she worships your body and loves praising you
"good girl" "you're doing so good for me" "you're so perfect, my love"
her aftercare is phenomenal
she never leaves you hanging she'll run a bath for you, help you in the shower, cuddles you right after and makes sure you're comfy and okay especially after if you guys are a little more rough than usual
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i haven't done headcannons yet, but i felt like this was the perfect time to do so
i actually enjoyed writing these bc it was so easy to, so maybe ill do more if you guys want that
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missmonsters2 · 9 months
Text
Mirror, Mirror | Two
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place. 
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 
The extra time was sorely appreciated. 
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 
Probably. 
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?" 
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 
Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!" 
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 
PART THREE
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theabigailthorn · 5 months
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Hi Abi,
Do you have any tips for supporting my pre-hrt trans girlfriend? She's only just started the ball rolling on transitioning and is working out whether we can afford to do it privately since the NHS is, well, the NHS.
Is there any way to try and keep her spirits up when there's so much anti-trans rhetoric flying around in the UK at the moment and just general ignorance about being trans? She's not out to many people yet -- just me and a couple of work friends as she was going to wait until she started HRT but then she realised that she might need to socially transition and come out to earn enough lady points to start transitioning.
I've tried looking online and haven't found anything particularly useful, since it either comes from people who are bitter and call themselves 'Trans Widows', or people whose only advice is 'just leave them'. (I don't want to, she's the cheese on top of my spag bol)
I'm sorry if it's inappropriate, but as far as I'm aware, I don't know anyone else who is trans and I thought it would be better to get advice from someone who is actually trans rather than cis people who have no idea what it's like.
Oooof, yeah - the first year is hard! It'd be hard to do it anytime anywhere, nevermind Britain now!
In my experience and in the experience of a lot of trans women I know, it does get easier with time. And it's allowed to be hard: she's doing one of the toughest things it's possible to do. There's no shortcuts I'm afraid, when you're lost in the woods you just gotta form a plan and walk your way out one step at a time.
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