#soup--champ

[atthebell]

thank you for doing all of this analysis btw. qcellbit makes me so feel So Much and seeing you put a lot of that into words is very appreciated 🙏🙏

(another moment that killed me was when he was very clearly Out Of It after talking to bagi about the siblings revelation and pulled his sword on tina after bad told him to kill her.

To be quite honest I think that is the closest he's ever gotten to actually "reverting", and it wasn't him being some deranged killer, it was him echoing behavior from being a kid thrown into the war, and I think that's actually more telling.)

qcellbit analysis is everything to me i love getting to do it i'm so glad you like seeing it <3333

also yeah that moment was wild that whole revelation was crazy bc he was so shaken and so uncomfortable it was really interesting to see what he did. like i remember he went and talked to foolish and bad first, bc he'd just been talking to them and knew where they were, and it felt very like. idk it felt very real to when you've gotten bad/upsetting news and you're listless and confused and you just go to whoever's nearby for reassurance, and luckily that happened to be two very close friends. and yeah to me it felt like bad suggested a joking level of violence and cellbit in a moment of upset took it a little more seriously than he meant to before realizing what he was doing, and was just so dazed that he automatically was like oh yeah sure let's do that

#asks #soup--champ #qsmp #cellbit

[youcouldhearmesmile]

THAT’S NOT EVEN SOUP DANIEL THAT IS JUST SLIMEY DISGUSTING VEGGIES WHY ARE YOU TORTURING HIM

#yes i am a phillie #and as someone that hates soggy veggies in soup i feel so bad for phil #but he took it like a champ #phil lester #amazingphil #dnp #dan and phil #danandphilgames #daniel howell #dnpgames

[nopizzaaftermidnight]

#champ #lily #cooking #soup #million #milliliters #bullion #billion #dillion #silly

[somethingsgottasaveyou]

there's something about back to back concerts that makes you feel alive

#so tired but so so alive #all time low #a day to remember #blink-182 #black veil brides #bring me the horizon #fall out boy #green day #good charlotte #i prevail #mayday parade #my chemical romance #bowling for soup #new found glory #paramore #panic! at the disco #simple plan #sum 41 #state champs #three days grace #music #pop punk #concerts

[eggthew]

I had chicken and sweet corn soup and it was so good and I had like three mouthfuls before spilling it EVERYWHERE and now my leg is mildly sore and I had to put on laundry and clean so much shit and my phone doesnt chargeeeeee what MORE will god take from me!!!!!!

#will try again tomorrow #im handling this like a champ btw im just pissy about the waste of good soup #egg talks

[dreamswap-crackhead-council]

Who is champ closer nm or dream?

Dream, absolutely.

#tusoud #tusoud asks #champ #dreamswap oc #mod felis #mod front soup #mod serrate

[dont-eat-lint-rollers]

misery hell forever. mom has covid, so far im the only person in the house who doesnt have it, and we havent been able to buy groceries so i dont even have enough soups or something to fall back on

#champ talks #im gonna miss Real Food as opposed to processed almost-plastic food #we have like 2 cans of a soup i know i like and the rest is off limits #and if i fucking catch this shit again im just gonna Stop Functioning. like period i think #i already forget what im doing the moment i start it

[v0w0v---x2]

delicious cream of Grease and hamburger bun soup = life

#dinner of champs #trope: poverty food #(thinking of that one carrot dinner rating post) #does anyone wanna teleport a bunch of fresh vegetable 2 me while the snap card refills #i shld b set back up in like a week but going thru my cans and this cream of mushroom soup is so.... water #i didnt hav the time or willingness to do potatoes #seasonings cant fix this its just not good. rip #cant wait to be on some kind of 3 meal a day lifestyle #as it stands rn it is nottttt looking great #soon tho! soon :) soon i will have my safe foods back #hacking gagging Oh Yeah Babty. nutritional requirement: sushroom vitamins #like dgmw i love mushrooms but this is yuckyy

[oh-jail-for-mother]

Some cow posts from nona

https://archivistjunozeta.tumblr.com/post/695055989974679552/fuck-it-nona-the-ninth-spoilers-without-context

https://boyworrier.tumblr.com/post/695679575041196032/nona-the-ninth-spoilers-without-context

https://liesmyth.tumblr.com/post/695403621725159424/did-you-know-that-cows-watch-sunsets-have-best

https://wearethekat.tumblr.com/post/695598129934942208/hmsproductions-dirtgummies-ringofkees

Of which the last two have already escaped containment

#HOLY SHIT THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!! #YOU'RE AN ABSOLUTE CHAMP #IN ALL LEVELS EXCEPT PHYSICAL I AM SITTING YOU DOWN AT THE TABLE AND PREPARING YOU SOUP BY WAY OF THANKS #submissions

[catcze]

Wriothesley taking care of his darling that's suffering period cramps?

MMM okay, writing this for myself in advanced too, bc lordy knows I'm gonna need it in a day or so.

「 CWS : 」 Reader gets periods, but pronouns are not mentioned !! ♡

Boyfriend! Wriothesley would do whatever he can to ease your pain when you're on your period. Foot rubs? Done. Belly rubs? Easy. Head scratches? Sure. Cuddles with his hand pressing a hot pack into your belly as you sleep? You don't even have to ask.

Boyfriend! Wriothesley makes you some warm drinks and warm foods, since he heard that those help the cramps. Whether it be tea (non-caffeinated, so you can sleep, of course), hot chocolate, warm honey tea, or whatever else you're willing to drink up, he'll always have a cup ready for you. Same goes with your food! He makes you some warm soup, and will even spoon feed you if your cramps are bein particularly nasty or if your head is spinning.

Boyfriend! Wriothesley deals with your mood swings like a champ, too. Whatever you throw his way, Wrio is gonna be there to make you feel better. You're happy and laughing? That's good, he'll try to make sure you're happy for as long as possible. You're sad and crying? That's okay, he has cuddles and sweets and shoulders that you can cry on, if you want. No, he will not care if you're crying about something pointless. If you're crying, you're crying, and it's his job to hold you until you feel better. You're in an angry mood? Okay, do you want to be alone for a bit? He can come back when you're feeling better. If not though, you can tell him why you're upset. He'll listen.

Boyfriend! Wriothesley who makes you a little basket of things he think you could use or that will cheer you up when he's away for work. It's nothing fancy, but it's got your heart melting in your chest. Some of your favorite sweets to tide you over, a couple of heat packs in your favorite color, a stuffed toy he saw in a shop that he thought you'd like, some fluffy slippers to keep your feet warm, and some extra pads/tampons/etc. just in case you run out. He makes a point to make a new one for you every time your period rolls around, just so you know he'll always care for you, even when he's out.

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriotehesley

[atthebell]

never going to stop thinking about when qcellbit told richas that the hunger games were "simpler times".

It Haunts Me.

there's just something,,, so fucking sad about it.

i think "it was [read: felt] easier when i didn't have to work at it" is a big part of recovery/healing and that's like. deeply apparent with qcellbit. he thinks of the violence as easier because 1. recency bias and 2. he didn't have to work on suppressing his worst impulses (ingrained in him because of said trauma) and the only rules were kill or be killed, survive or die. also he's just extremely dramatic (said with love)

#asks #soup--champ #qsmp #cellbit

[nopizzaaftermidnight]

#lily #champ #shakespeare #monkeys with typewriters #alphabet soup #comics

[rustedhearts]

Shades of Cool (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!Fem reader)

summary: steve’s new ride inflates his ego (and anger).

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

warnings: angst, daddy issues, verbal argument (shocker), maybe a little shoving and manhandling, otherwise cutesy fluff :)

hawkins, indiana, november 15th 1989

Last week, Steve got a Harley.

He had a fight in Chicago, and you sprang to the phone the moment it shrilled at ten-thirty, knowing it meant the fight was over and Steve was on the other line.

"Hey, pretty girl," he mumbled through the phone.

You could tell from the low grumble of his voice—the way his words mushed together all souped up and unenunciated—that he'd taken too many hits to be coherent. But Steve continued to surprise everyone with his relentless stamina and easy energy.

"Hi, Stevie," you practically cooed, the rubber cord of the telephone coiling its way around your finger. "You win for me tonight, champ?"

Steve snickered into the receiver, a hoarse and half-coughed chuckle following suit. "Yeah. Yeah, baby, I won."

A burst of pride sparked through your chest, like it always did. No matter how many calls you got from Steve, announcing his inevitable victory in the ring, they never got old. You never got tired of hearing his delirious mumbling, of picturing the busted lip you could hear through his words. The sound of his voice graveling through the phone never failed to send cold shivers down your spine, and tingles through your nerves. You were always a giggly, grinning mess when you bid him goodnight.

"And...got a surprise t' show you 'morrow when I come home," Steve declared, and your heart hammered in your chest with impatience.

"Can't wait to see it."

What you hadn't expected was for Steve to come ripping down your street on a black Harley Cruiser. You straightened up from your place on the sofa, chin tucked over the back to watch the street for sightings of your bloody boxer. The bike came roaring to the curb of your front lawn, idling for a moment before Steve kicked the stand down and eased the engine off. You leapt to your knees, pushing the curtains further apart to watch with wide blown eyes as his leather-gloved hands rose to pull off the helmet.

A heap of chestnut locks flopped free from the helmet, billowing in the wind. Steve tucked the helmet in the crook of his arm, wrapped in the black leather of a thick jacket zipped to the collar. He turned, concealing any view of his ass from you—but then you could see him, in all his bruised and bloodied glory: fat lip, swollen cheekbone, busted brow bone. He slipped a pair of black shades over his eyes on his ascent toward the front porch, and you scrambled to your feet to beat him there.

Yanking the door open, you beamed in delight at the sight of Steve—looming tall in a pair of sturdy steel-toed boots and his new black leather attire.

"Hey, pretty girl," he drawled, cocking a lopsided grin.

You closed the gap between the two of you, mounting his firm figure in one bound. Arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his torso, nose burying its way into the pine-scented warmth of his neck. Steve steadied himself on the rail of your front steps with one hand, pressing the other against the small of your back with a grunt. Once he had steadied, Steve chuckled gruffly.

"Missed me?"

You sighed into his neck, pressing a desperate kiss to the underside of his jaw. "You have no idea."

Steve lowered his chin to hook over your shoulder, bridging the minuscule distance between you. His eyes pinched closed behind the darkened shades, a huff of air expelling from his nose.

"Me too."

♡ ♡

"So...I mean, I love it, don't get me wrong but...why the Harley?"

After a good forty-five minutes of a tight embrace on your front porch, the two of you wandered toward the curb to check out Steve's new toy. Steve crossed his arms, grinning down at the gleaming black hunk of metal and iron.

"Just a little celebratory gift to myself. Ready for a ride?"

Steve hopped off the curb, boots scuffing against the asphalt of the street as he rounded the bike. You paled, watching him open the back hatch and pull out a pink helmet, smaller than his with your initials in a pretty cursive font along the right side. He met you on the curb again, wiggling it in his hands.

"Come on," Steve cooed, a grin playing on his lips, "got 'er just for you, angel."

You pouted uneasily, reaching out for the straps, just for Steve to playfully bat at your hands until they fell back to your sides. He bumped his knuckles under your chin gently until it lifted, and the helmet found its way over your skull. It was heavy and thick, and your head felt like a bowling ball on a string when he snapped the buckles together under your jaw.

Steve's smile spread his mouth wide, hands tapping the sides of your helmet gently. "There. Beautiful, baby."

He planted a gentle peck on your pouting mouth and tugged you by the hand toward the bike. He mounted the leather seat, both feet planted on the ground as he patted the space behind him. You braced yourself on his shoulders as you stepped up onto the footrest and slung your leg over. Once you were seated, Steve reached for your hands, bringing them to rest against his stomach with your arms circled around his waist.

"Hold on tight, 'kay, baby?"

You squished your cheek against his shoulder, bobbing your heavy head.

"Not too fast please, Stevie," you squeaked.

"'Course not, angel."

The bike roared to life, and an involuntary squeal ripped from your throat, arms tightening around Steve's body. He tried not to groan from the way your elbows dug into his ribs and brushed against his bruises. Soreness dragged on him, but Steve was too excited to show you his new toy to bother taking a moment to rest. He gave the throttle a squeeze, and the air seeped from your lungs at the growl of the humming bike between your legs.

You hung onto Steve for dear life the entire way through Hawkins, barely catching a glimpse of streets and shops whizzing by, unable to pry your eyes open. When he slowed to a stop and parked on the curb, it took a moment for you to register the world stilling. Steve chuckled, rubbing his gloved hands along yours.

"Doin' okay, angel?"

You groaned, nodding despite the dizziness fogging your brain. "Mhm."

He gave you a moment to settle before prying your arms away, pushing off the bike to stand on the curb and unclip your helmet. When it came off, you immediately reached to smooth your hair and Steve cracked a smile, wrapping his hand around your jaw to squish your cheeks and angle your mouth to his will.

"Look beautiful, baby."

You burned at his affection, eyes fluttering closed again when he captured your mouth in a wet kiss. You whimpered against the swipe of his warm tongue on your lower lip and Steve chuckled.

"Come on, I'm starving."

♡ ♡

Now, you only had a few days together before Steve had to take off for another fight in Boston, and you'd been pouting about it since he got here. Steve did all he could, spending every spare moment giving his full attention to you. You accompanied him to the gym to train, then out to lunch and dinner after. You brought him home to lounge in your room, though your parents were against the idea of him spending the night. You went to his tiny apartment and spent hours tangled together in bed.

And he drove the bike everywhere you went. To the gym, to the library to pick you up, to your house, to every diner and restaurant you went to. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't noticed the certain air of cockiness riding the bike seemed to add to his demeanor. The way he smirked when eyes followed the pair of you floating away from it, the way he slung his arm around you like putting on a show after helping you off the bike.

Of course, the new addition to his image was attractive. In fact, you'd had a few dreams about him bending you over the leather seat with the engine revving (your fantasies weren't always the safest or most practical).

But for the past few days, Steve had been irritable, and you'd been pouty. The combination didn't mesh well.

The tiniest things sent Steve over the edge—he had a short temper, as you'd come to learn. While it was never directed at you, it still affected you. And when Steve was irritable, he drove fast. How fast he drove depended on how irritable he was feeling. He could go from fast to way-too-fucking-fast before you had a moment to catch your breath behind him.

And for your pouting...well, Steve was leaving again. You only just got him back, and you knew when he'd return in a few more days, he'd just have to leave again.

"Fuckin' Christ," Steve muttered around a cigarette, stomping ahead of you toward the bike parked in the lot of his apartment building.

You scurried to catch up, adjusting the strap of your purse over your shoulder as it slipped with speed. Your skirt ruffled in the wind, and you struggled to keep up and keep it down at the same time.

"Can't we take the car?" you huffed as you approached the bike, and Steve fished his lighter out of the pocket of his leather jacket to light the cig.

He mounted the bike, resting back as he replaced the lighter and sucked in a drag of smoke. The scowl on his mouth deepened, and his eyes slid over to you still standing in the parking lot.

"Why?" Steve pulled the cigarette away and blew the smoke toward the sky.

You shifted, adjusting your purse again. "I'm...I'm wearing a skirt, Steve."

He eyed the skirt, bringing the cigarette back to his mouth. "Yeah, so?"

You crossed your arms, a familiar pout finding its way to your face. Steve sighed at the sight of it, eyes rolling.

"Baby, come on," he groaned, hand coming to rest on the clutch.

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, gazing wearily at the sleek, black Harley like at any moment, it would rev up and bite you like a jaguar on the prowl. Steve tapped his finger on the clutch and tossed his cigarette toward the pavement.

"You..." Your voice as small, hesitant.

Steve jerked his chin forward, brows raising. "I what?"

A pitiful whine left you, and you dropped your arms, shoulders slumping in defeat. "You...you're gonna get mad, and then you're gonna drive too fast."

Steve's brows dropped, knitting together and accompanying his deep frown.

"What? M' not mad. M' gonna be if you don't get on the fuckin' bike and I'm late—"

"—Steven," you cut him off sharply.

Steve instantly leapt off the bike, shuffling over to you with a heavy sigh. He took your hands where they dangled at your sides and gathered them between his palms. They came to press against his chest with his guidance.

"C'mere, baby," he grumbled. You stepped in close, peering at your hands embraced by his.

"M' not mad," Steve said, head shaking. "Why d' you think I'm gonna get mad?"

Your chest tightened a little, and nerves clawed their way up your spine. You didn't want to hurt his feelings. But if you didn't tell him, how would he ever know what he's doing wrong?

"You always get mad."

Steve softened greatly, bending at the neck to press a kiss to your forehead with another heavy sigh. His thumbs rubbed at your wrists, the tip of his nose making a soothing circle at your hairline.

"Jesus, angel, m' sorry. It's just been tough. It's this job, you know? It's...it's...—"

"—I get it," you interrupted again, tipping your head back to flash him a small smile.

He cocked his head. "You do?"

You nodded, perking up on your tiptoes to peck his mouth. "Course I do, Stevie. It's fine. Come on, let's take the bike."

Your hands slipped from his grasp, and he hooked his chin over his shoulder to watch you head toward the bike. Your skirt fluttered up and gave way to the backs of your thighs and the bite marks Steve left last night.

"You sure?"

You mounted the bike, gathering your helmet in your lap to unclip the buckles. You flashed him a dazzling smile—a smile so pretty that he couldn't see through it.

"I'm sure, baby."

♡ ♡

And you were right.

After four hours of training—where your ass went numb from sitting on the padded bench so long and your brain felt like mush from reading the same book you'd been trying to get through for a week—Steve stomped into the locker room with another scowl on his face.

You followed him in, book tucked behind your back, and eased against the cold metal of the lockers. Steve whipped his gloves into his duffel bag, clawing at the black wraps around his hands to undo them. You could practically see the steam radiating off his flushed, glossy skin. You could feel the thrum of his aggravation, could see it in the way his eyes hardened and lips thinned.

"You did great in there," you commented.

Steve didn't even look up. He balled his wraps up and shoved them into his bag, turning to yank open his locker for a change of clothes.

"Not great enough," he huffed.

You frowned, bringing your book to rest against your chest. Steve pulled a sweatshirt over his sticky skin. You knew he preferred to shower at home, where he could press you against the wall and rut into you without the off chance of someone listening through the wall. Steve never liked to share you, even in theory.

"Come on, Stevie, that's not true. You're too hard on yourself—"

"—I have to win," Steve snapped.

You flinched, jumping when the locker door slammed shut and rattled the row of them. He finally looked at you, though you preferred when he wasn't. His eyes were empty, glassed over with the familiar, stubborn haze they hold when Steve starts thinking too hard. When he beats himself up, and as he admitted a few weeks ago, starts hearing his father's voice in his head.

"Do you understand that? If I don't win, I go nowhere. I stay here, in this same shit-hole town I've always been in, and I go nowhere. I can't just be great, Libby. I have to be the best."

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder, brushing past you in a petulant stomp toward the door. You blinked at the empty air where he once stood, digesting his growled words. You didn't think Hawkins was so bad. You liked your small town life here. And you were here, weren't you?

Didn't that mean anything?

"See you tomorrow, Libby!" Big, the hulking, bald-headed man Steve called his coach waved to you from where he was wiping down the ring across the gym.

You waved back, barely mustering a pitiful grin to toss back at him as you followed Steve toward the exit.

"Y-Yeah, see you."

In the parking lot, Steve opened the hatch on the seat of the bike to shove his duffel in. You'd packed it neatly so it would bunch up small enough to fit this morning, and now that Steve had haphazardly thrown things in, it was too bulky for the compartment. You lingered on the curb as you watched him slam the hatch up and down, attempting to force it in.

"Steve, it's not gonna—"

He groaned, shoving himself away from the bike toward the wall of the gym beside you. In an instant, his hand darted out to punch it, and you gasped at the sharp crack that followed the impact of his skin against brick.

"Steve! What the hell?"

Steve's hands flew to his head, running through the length of his hair in exasperation. "Stop! Just...stop!"

He waved you off, wandering to the end of the sidewalk near the road. You watched him go for a moment, biting back tears. You knew he'd get angry, he always did—but why was he suddenly angry with you?

"Steve," you sighed, heels clicking in a hurry toward his pacing figure.

Cars moved at a glacial pace along the road, rotating between the town shops. You stopped behind Steve and placed your hand delicately on his shoulder, attempting to soothe his tense muscles despite your wobbling lower lip. Despite your chest feeling like it could cave in at any moment.

"Steve, I don't understand why you're so upset."

A snicker of laughter came spitting from Steve, and you recoiled back when he whirled around on his heel. He suddenly seemed so big.

"Of course you don't," he sneered. "Of course you don't get it. Why would you? You don't have people breathing down your fuckin' neck all the time, telling you: be better, be better, be better."

Each word came punctuated with a sharp smack of his knuckles against his palm, and you winced as he advanced with fury in his eyes. You took a skittered step back toward the gym, teeth sinking into your trembling lip.

"But w-why are you taking it on me?" you blubbered, tears stinging in your lash line.

Steve came to a stop, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. He shuddered out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I don't know, I'm sorry."

You smacked at the tears rolling down your cheeks, though the salty taste had already started seeping into your mouth.

"You don't know?"

Steve huffed sharply through his nose like a bull, ripping his hands away from his eyes to stomp toward the parking lot again. "No, I don't fuckin' know!"

You followed, tears turning hot with frustration.

"So I'm just supposed to take it? Huh?" You reached forward and shoved Steve's shoulder, but he kept going, hands balling into fists at his sides. "I'm supposed to let you drag me around and yell at me when you're feeling stressed out?"

Steve's boots kicked up gravel when he came to an abrupt stop, and your teeth clench together with a hardened glare that challenges his.

"I never fuckin' said that," Steve bit out.

You stood tall in your tiny checkered heels, stomping one involuntarily when you curled your fingers into fists. "You didn't have to!"

Steve's tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, hands coming to sit on his hips as he tipped his head back. He scoffed, shaking his head to himself in disbelief—and that's what really did you in.

"You know what, Steve? Screw you."

Steve let his head fall back, settling his empty eyes on you. "Oh, screw me?"

"Yeah, screw you. You come home, you jerk me around, and then you leave. Then you come home again, jerk me around more, and leave again. And what do I get, Steve?"

Steve's nostrils flared with a tightening of his jaw, eyes bouncing around the flushed features of your contorted face. He'd never seen you so upset. Sure, you had a few spats over the past few months—but he'd never seen you yell like this. And deep down, he knew it was his fault. He was just too stubborn to admit it.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Libby—"

"—I want you to stop taking your shit out on me!"

Steve huffed, stomping the rest of the way toward his bike. You were right. Of course you were right. But you still just didn't understand.

You didn't understand that Steve spent every night alone in his hotel room, a hundred miles away and aching, wishing you were there. He slipped in bathtubs, too weak to stand with all the bruises on his abdomen, too dizzy to stand the steam. He got sick on more than one occasion before a fight on the off chance that he might lose, because if there's one thing that terrified Steve, it was failure.

He broke so many phones that Big started only half-jokingly suggesting Steve be put in a room without one, because Steve picked up the phone to call you but got too scared you wouldn't answer. He thought that the longer he was away, the better off you'd be. The longer you'd have to see how fucked up he was, the easier it'd be for you to leave him. He wasn't a good man, and sooner or later, you'd see that.

This job was the only thing Steve was good at, and if he wasn't the best, Steve felt like he was nothing.

"Steve," you sighed, watching his eyes dart around and his harshness crumble, "just...talk to me. Talk, not yell."

Steve shook his head, forcing himself to look away from your pink, swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "I can't."

You frowned, wiping more tears away. "What? You can't?"

Steve shoved at his duffel still sticking out of the hatch until it could somewhat close before mounting the bike. He dipped into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sunglasses, sliding them over his aching eyes. All the yelling made him suddenly realize how terribly his head hurt.

"Get on the bike, baby," he ordered sternly. He kicked the stand up and brought the bike to both wheels, revving the engine with a twist of his hand around the handle.

You crossed your arms, sniffling nosily. He watched you jerk your chin up, defiance painted across your glossy face.

"No."

Steve glared at you through his shades. "Get on the fucking bike, Libby."

You dropped your arms. "No! I'm walking home, asshole."

To his surprise, you spun around and started stomping toward the road, every step coming with a bounce of your hair and flutter of your skirt. Steve hurriedly cut the engine and kicked the stand down, jogging to catch up with your brisk walk.

"Hey—hey! You're not fuckin' walking."

You yanked your arm from his hold the moment he grabbed you, but Steve was insistent. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back before you could reach the crosswalk. You pushed at his arm, but it was anchored around you, a barrier between you and your destination away from him.

"Steve, let go!"

He ignored you, and the more you pushed and pulled at his arm, the more Steve felt his defenses crumbling. Did you really want to get away from him that badly? Had he truly been that terrible? A tightness overwhelmed his stomach, clenching and squeezing like a sickness. Something stung his eyes and collected in his ears like an ache.

"Steve, let me g—hey! Put me down!"

The world turned upside down and your head spun when Steve suddenly threw you over his shoulder. But you gave up on your assault, any fight in you deflating just as Steve's did at the sudden realization of your very public fight. The tears returned in your eyes, stinging with salty warmth, and by the time Steve bent down to set you gently on the bike, they were starting to gather in your hairline.

Steve brushed your hair down with two heavy palms, swiping under your eyes to free them of tears with his thumbs. You sniffled, eyes fluttering shut at the firmness of his palms cradling your face.

"Please stop cryin', angel," he mumbled, his ordinary grumble morphing into a soft whine.

You sniffled again—a pathetic, pouting mess in his hands. Steve swooped down to press a kiss to your swollen lips. When your frown persisted, Steve kissed again. And again, and again, and again, until you were giggling snottily and pushing the heels of your palms against his shoulders. But the frown had been replaced with a halfway smile, and that was all that mattered to Steve. He pressed his thumb into the corner of your mouth.

Silence ensued. The whoosh of cars slugging by, the sporadic chirp of horns, and the distant chirp of birds were the only sounds that filled it. Your head tipped to lean into Steve's hold. His hands still smelled like sweat and leather. The bike was warm under your legs.

"I just get...I get so angry," Steve whispered.

Your eyes popped open, blinking up at him. "Why?"

Though he did his best to hide it, a pinched look passed over Steve's face. He slid his hand across your cheek and into your hair, urging it behind your ear.

"I don't know. 've always been like this, you know? Ever since I was a kid. Guess I know who I get it from."

Steve snickered, but you shook your head and brought your hand to cradle his against your face. You pressed a kiss to his wrist, stroking his forearm.

"No, Steve. You're nothing like your father."

Though he hadn't said it explicitly, you knew what the stories of Steve's father insinuated—he was abusive. He beat Steve for every minor inconvenience, and now Steve walked through life thinking everything he did was wrong. He always worried about being good. He always wanted to be good.

For a moment, Steve didn't know what to say. He certainly didn't believe you. Right now, he felt exactly like his father, who Steve watched from his bedroom doorway as he berated Steve's mother and made her burst into tears. He had his father's temper. He always did.

"Just talk to me, Stevie. I don't like when we yell," you told him, pressing another kiss to his wrist.

Steve leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. "I know. I know, baby. Me neither."

You sniffled, nudging your nose against his. Steve cracked a small smile at the affection.

"I guess I'm just...starting to feel the pressure," Steve sighed. "It's starting to feel like...this shit's real."

You nodded. "I know. I guess it's starting to scare me, too."

Steve's brows furrowed. "What, why?"

"I already barely get to see you. What's gonna happen when you make it big?"

Steve inhaled deeply, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks again. "Then you come with me. Wherever I go, you come, too."

You tipped your head back, meeting his eyes. "You wouldn't mind?"

Steve chuckled, pulling back to get a good look at you.

"Baby, are you crazy? I want you with me every second of the fuckin' day."

You giggled, head tipping toward your shoulder. Steve lunged forward and smacked an urgent kiss against your cheek, still sticky with tears.

"But...what about work? What about the library?" you mumbled.

Steve shook his head, pushing your head back in place with his hand. He pressed another kiss to your mouth. "We'll figure it out. No matter what, it's me and you, baby. Okay? Just me and you."

You reached up, a smile playing in your lips, and placed your hand against his cheek.

"Just me and you."

You had no idea what you were in for. Maybe if you did, you wouldn't have made that promise.

♡ ♡

#rolly! #boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #boxer!steve #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve the hair harrington #king steve #stranger things fic #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!oc

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #1 A mother’s love stretches throughout the realms

Imagine dis…

 What if Danny Fenton is a reincarnated version of Martha Wayne (I’d like to think that she is a badass woman, not your typical rich girl) When the portal accident happened he began remembering the life before Daniel “Danny” Fenton happened. At first, he thought that these memories are nothing more than ‘dreams’, as dreams kept us all day and are often forgotten the moment we wake up but every time he woke up from each ‘dream’ he kept remembering the love and fondness to a man who has the same built to his dad. The care, protectiveness, and love that he gave to Dani to a young male that looked like him, the feeling would cling to him throughout the day. The feeling of protectiveness would amplify his own. He wants nothing more than to find that blurred young boy and make sure that they are right. His core kept aching for that two individuals.

Far worse each year on a specific day. The horror and fear crawled up his spine as well the relief and safety towards the mystery boy.

The moment Danny turned 18 he was crowned as the High king in the Infinite Realm. The moment the crown and ring are within him he is bombarded with information about the information and secrets of the Infinite Realm, he also remembered his son.

He tried to find his husband, Thomas Wayne but was saddened that he couldn’t find his love. But also felt relief seeing that he found peace in his afterlife for him to move on.

After making sure that the balance is restored throughout the realm he wishes to see his son one more time. Using the information he got when he was crowned he navigated through the Infinity realms and entered the DC universe.

He turned invisible to see his son in Gotham, but what greeted him made him fear the worse.

There lay a very injured Batman, how did she know it has his son? Never heard of the phrasing “There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart”

She knew that is her boy, and quickly turned to help his son. Learning under the teaching of the yetis, especially through Frostbite’s guidance he is able to make himself stable enough.

Pressing the panic button under his utility belt he can’t help but linger his eyes towards his boy.

His boy who has done much and given much, he who has so much to love to give, who gave all of his heart, body, soul, and mind to those he calls sons and those who he considers his kin, his boy who turned into a fine young man.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t in a grimy alley anymore but at the Wayne manor taking care of a 7-year-old Bruce who fell ill after playing under the rain.

Thomas his love, besides their son, whispers how he is handling that cold like a champ while Alfred is carrying an empty bowl of chicken soup out of the room.

He can’t help but go back to his old habits, rubbing his boy’s chubby cheeks, promising sweet words to his boy that It will be all right. While singing his lullaby for him.

The moment Nightwing appeared, a lingering cold air remained at the spot beside the man he call father.

It's been a few days since Bruce was recovered and healed up in the manor, having Dick fill in the gaps of Batman for a few days.

At the cave, Bruce is trying to recover the audio as well as the recordings through his cowl as he refused to be compromised. His children assured him that when the rest of them have gotten there he was all bandaged up and no one near could have been his savior. He refused to take the such chance.

The video is nothing more than a lost cause but the audio is clear enough for Batman to listen through it.

The situation, the faint feeling of fingers rubbing his cheeks, and the whispering words of reassurance made him remember but it was the lullaby that sealed the deal and made him freeze up

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

No…

There is only one person who knows that song… that night he knew he looked like a man on a mission.

Who is that person who clearly knows his mother’s lullaby to him?

Somewhere near Crime alley, Danny is thinking of meeting the rest of his grandchildren's booth that was adopted officially and unofficially by his son's booth in and out of their suits.

As well as thinking of ways to heal and avenge his second grandchild looks like Jason got his hatred on clowns.

Hey! He may be Martha Wayne at one point but he is also currently Danny Phantom who is the king of Infinite realms, Champion of Balance but most importantly hates clown with passion as well willing to beat that clown up for killing his grandson.

 PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so.

#dc x dp prompt #dc #dp #bruce wayne #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #infinite realms

[straykidsmoonlight]

SKZ React- your baby gets sick

A/n: I’m back from the grave! I’ve been kinda busy lately and haven’t had the chance to write, but please keep the requests coming! 💛

Chan

Just takes it in his stride

Will be keeping a watchful eye on Karl as he keeps on cleaning the house

So careful with giving his little boy the right medicines, always making sure to keep a note so he can show you what’s he’s given him later on

Lee know

He’s always responsible for his little ones health, making soups for Byeol all the time

When his little baby Jeni gets sick, he ensures you are feeding her well, keeping a watchful eye as you sit with her, making sure you are well fed too

Gently rubs her tummy to make her feel better

Changbin

Quite overwhelmed when Jimin gets sick

Sort of just blankly watches as you fuss over your daughter, not quite knowing what to do

Feels really bad, so at night he goes and sleeps by his babies cot on the floor, in case she wakes up lots in the middle of the night

Hyunjin

His heart aches when his baby boy starts crying in pain

Will sit gently bouncing his son on his chest trying to stop his stomach upset

Rubs his babies belly, desperately trying to make his son feel better, until Cheon-Sa finally falls asleep in his arms. Breathes a sigh of relief and literally won’t move an inch until his son wakes up

Han

It’s not that Han can’t handle three kids, but when his youngest baby Dani gets an ear infection, he feels so out of his depth

Is at home all day with his three girls and you are out of town, so he FaceTimes you, as tears stream down his face

You tell him he’s doing a great job, and not to feel bad for putting the older girls in front of the TV while he focuses on his youngest baby who won’t stop crying

Felix

His literal worst nightmare when Hanuel gets diagnosed with a chronic illness

His heart breaks as you guys get your babies chronic pain diagnosis, as he prepares himself for many sleepless nights, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

From that day on, he devotes himself to being the one to comfort Hanuel when she’s in pain. He becomes an expert at baby massage, and learns what it is to have a week of sleepless nights.

Seungmin

So capable in this kind of situation

Literally stands rocking you side to side as you panick when your baby Ae-Cha has a coughing fit.

Stays calm, before scooping up his older twin daughter and gently patting her back

Jeongin

It was the shock of this man’s life when you had such a scary birth with your last son. With the last four births going so smoothly, he didn’t know what to do when the last one went so horribly wrong

He was unprepared for the implications on the health of his son and on you. Had to juggle taking care of his scarily injured wife and his sick baby as well as his four other children

Truth be told, this was the biggest challenge he ever had to face, but he carried on like a champ, continuing say in and day out to care for you both round the clock while his hyungs helped to take care of your guys other babies.

#dad stray kids #stray kids husband #stray kids x reader #stray kids as dads #skz bang chan #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids smut #stray kids requests #stray kids imagines #stray kids #domestic stray kids #stray kids stay #stray kids x stay #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fam #stray kids felix #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #minsung smut #minsung #hyunlix #hwang hyujin imagines #felix imagines #bang chan imagines #bang chan #yang jeongin #bts smut #bts imagines

[taylorlovesrain]

paris - jack hughes

pairing: Jack Hughes x reader

warnings: heavy fluff, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, kissing

word count: 1.84k

authors note: This turned out a lot more fluffy, than I intended it to, also I think I mentioned everything I learned in french class about Paris, this is loosely inspired by Taylor Swifts “Paris”. Btw thank you for all the love on “how you get the girl” <3

Paris, the city of love, that’s where Jack took you for your five year anniversary of being a couple, you’ve always been wanting to go to Paris, visit the Louvre and Eiffel Tower, go shopping on the Champs-Élysée, eat a lot of amazing food, like croissants, onion soup and many more.

Now five years after Jack and you started dating, he finally made your dream come true. He surprised you with the trip one week before your anniversary, he woke you up early in the morning and didn’t tell you where you were going just that everything was packed already and that you would be able to sleep on the plane. To be honest you needed your sleep desperately, because you went out the night before with some of your and Jacks friends, where one of your friends told you that some guy you hooked up with ages ago, before you even started dating Jack, kissed the sister of one of your ex friends in a club your friend went to the other night, your friend also wanted to show you the pictures they took of it, but you didn’t want to see them, why would you want to see them? You were in a happy relationship for multiple years now and you didn’t understand, why some of the people you knew, wouldn’t accept that and always try to talk about your past hook ups or relationships, which you didn’t care about anymore. If you were true to yourself, it was exhausting people always trying to tell you how you should act in your relationship with Jack, telling you that you weren’t good enough for him or that he wasn’t good enough for you and because of you being with Jack since before he even got drafted into the NHL, everyone watched your relationship grow over the years.

They saw you attending games to support Jack, they saw him mentioning you in interviews, they saw the posts you shared of your time together, they thought they knew about everything going on in your and Jacks relationship, so a lot of people thought, that they also had the right to judge it.

So a secret trip that no one knew about, in a country, where probably no one knew about you or Jack was exactly what you and him needed right now, a break from everything and everyone, just you two together, in the city of love.

Jack tried to keep the destination of your vacation from you as long as he could, but when they called out your flight at the airport and he got up saying that this was your flight, you finally knew where you were going, Paris, the city of your dreams. If you weren’t already head over heels in love with Jack, that might would’ve been what would’ve made you fall for him, he was the man who made all your dreams come true, he knew everything about you and you knew everything about him, he made you happy, like no one ever did before, you wanted to spend forever with him loving you and you loving him.

When you arrived in Paris and drove through the streets on the way to your hotel and the Eiffel Tower came out behind all of the buildings, you started tearing up, you couldn’t believe, that you were actually here, in Paris, with the love of your life.

The next few days you spend with nearly visiting all of the tourist attractions you could, you went to the Louvre, where you saw some of your favorite art pieces, you went to see the Eiffel Tower, for which you got over your fear of heights, so you could look over the city on the highest platform of the tower, you saw Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe, one of your personal favorites was, seeing Monets “Waterlilies” at the Musée de l’Orangerie, to sum it all up, the first few days of your trip in Paris were amazing.

Today was your and Jacks anniversary and were quite nervous about it, he woke you up through peppering kisses all over your face and mumbling “I love yous” into your skin “Good morning babe, happy five years, I love you” he whispered when you opened your eyes, slowly you pulled him into a loving kiss “Good morning, happy five years, I love you more” “I don’t think that you love me more than I love you”. You finished your morning with breakfast in bed and got ready for the day soon after, throughout the whole process of trying to get ready, you tried to get Jack to tell you, how you would spend your day but Jack didn’t tell you any of the plans he made, as much as you tried to convince him of telling you, what his plans were for the day, he didn’t let anything slip just kept telling you, that you would find out soon enough. The first thing you both did after walking out of your hotel, was walk to the little bakery you found a few days ago, you could’ve taken the metro which probably would’ve been a lot faster but the scenery was way to beautiful for that, you walked hand in hand through small alleyways with beautiful old buildings that had ivy or flowers hanging from the balconies. The bakery was in a beautiful building that had “boulangerie” written in gold letters over the entryway and it had the best crossaints both of you ever had, so you bought two of those and a baguette, next you made your way into a small family owned grocery store to get some cheese and grapes to eat with the baguette, after you bought everything you needed, Jack took you to the Eiffel Tower, where you sat in the shade a tree threw and and had a small picnic, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, just enjoying each others company. The rest of the day you spent walking through Paris, discovering little hidden parks and small stores with cute souvenirs and other things. When it slowly grew later and the evening came, you were walking along the Seine “I have a surprise for you” he whispered in your ear and led you down the stairs until you got to a little dock, that had a small boat waiting for you, on the boat was a table with two chairs. The table was decked out with most of your favorite foods and the boat was lit up with candles and fairy lights. “Oh my god Jack, this is beautiful, I don’t know what to say, wow thank you, I love this, I love you” he pulled you closer “I love you too and I’m glad you like it y/n”. Jack pulled out your chair for you and you want to sit down, when Jack sat down he smiled at you, you spent the dinner admiring the view but most of the time you were admiring him, Jack, the boy you fell in love with when you were a teenager, your best friend, your everything. After you’ve finished eating, it was nearing midnight, the both of you sat together watching the moons reflection shimmer on the water and the city of love in which the lights turned on and off, “Jack look at the view, it’s so beautiful, everything here is so beautiful” you told him mesmerized “Yep, so beautiful” he answered not taking his eyes off of you, he was taken by how beautiful you looked, like you were with the view of Paris.

When you turned back around to look at Jack you found him on one knee “Jack-“ you were already tearing up, “y/n my love the past five years have been the best years of my life so far and not only those, every year since I’ve known you has been made better through your presence in my life, you are my best friend, you are my motivation and inspiration, you are the person I want to wake up to every morning, you are the person who brings light to my dark days, my sunshine, my daylight, you are the love of my life and I love everything about you, I love your laugh, I love how you can recite all of your favorite movies, I love the way you hug me after my games and hold me when I’m sad, I love the way you say my name, I love how you love everyone and want everyone to be happy, I love how you don’t care what anybody thinks about you or us and I love how you love me and I admire you for you are and who you make me, y/n I love you and I want to spend forever with you, I want to go through the good and bad with you, I want to come home and see you sitting on our couch watching a movie, I want to make all your dreams come true, I want to raise our future children together in Michigan or Jersey or wherever we’ll be, I want to hold you, I want to kiss you, I want to love you forever and I hope you want this too, y/n/n do you want to marry me? By the time Jack finished his speech you were crying, both tears of joy and tears of sadness, this was the question you wanted Jack to ask you since you knew that you loved him.

You cradled his face with both of your hands, holding both of his cheeks and brought his face closer to yours and slowly kissed him, it was a loving, slow, meaningful kiss, when he pulled away, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while gazing into your eyes, “so is that a yes? do you want to marry me?”, “Yes Jack, I want to marry you, I love you and I want to spend forever with you and loving you”. He pulled you in again for another kiss, while slipping the ring on your hand. This time, you were the one to pull away first from the kiss “Let’s keep this just ours, at least for the next week while we’re still in Paris” you mumbled, “If you want to make this our little secret, then I’m more than happy, to keep it just ours”, behind you the Eiffel Tower started shimmering, it’s the only flashing lights with you in Paris, no one knew you here, no one knew who you were and no one here or at home would know about your engagement for the next few days, your love being just yours.

The next few days where spent with stumbling through alleyways at midnight after drinking cheap wine acting like it was champagne, having picnics under trees and visiting many more sights, every day you somewhere found a little note in Jacks cursive letters on how much he loved you and why he loved you.

From these two weeks on, Jack and you decided to keep your relationship more private, like you put a privacy sign on the door, page or the whole world, you enjoyed keeping your love just yours.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ice hockey #nhl #nhl hockey #angst #fluff #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes #jack hughes angst #new jersey #new jersey devils #paris france #paris #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fluff #nhl angst #hockey fluff #taylor swift #taylor swift paris #taylor swift midnights #midnights #midnights 3am version #eiffel tower #water lilies #louvre #arc de triomphe #friends to lovers