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#I REALLY don't understand how the tag system works
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Are Merch Mimics capable of using assimilation offensively against humans, for self-defense and otherwise? Like, if someone tried to break a toy/game/etc they were inhabiting, could the Mimic instead pull them in?
To a degree, yeah. I should mention though that Victor isn't "in" the TV in any magical sense; spoiler alert: he's the controller Vance is holding! Hence, the eye on the controller reacting to the dialogue. The Victor on the screen is actualy a model he rigged for a homebrew game he coded the old fashioned way, which responds to whatever inputs the controller sends to the Wii.
He actually is an active member of the homebrew community, and loves to mess with electronics the old fashioned way. Almost no one on the forums knows he's a toy bird, but are impressed nonetheless with his little projects, various rail-shooter games, and weird obsession with snarky anthropomorphic birds.
Victor could technically "jump into a game" on a tv screen, but it'd be a bit of a weird process if he doesn't know how to mod the game, so it'd look more like a shitty greenscreen effect rather than anything coherent. He'd need to learn in real time how the game is coded, how to inject arbitrary code into the system while it's running, etc etc. He CAN do that because he's a fucking NERD, but it wouldn't be a quick process at all.
I should also mention, mimics have an inherent ability to create dreams, since they come about from processing the thoughts and ideas of humans. If a human bonds with a mimic, such that the mimic now knows how the human thinks, they can pull a (somewhat) willing human into the dream when the human sleeps. So to wrap this all up: what Victor could do for a game he understands inside and out is pull a human into a dream that happens to match whatever he himself experiences as currently going on in the game. Basically the ultimate VR experience, with the mimic as a middle-man. Which might be something that'll happen in the comic soon....!
So that all seems a bit convoluted, right? Here's even more worldbuilding about matter assimilation by mimics below the cut. Stop here if you don't want a headache.
The reason so many hoops would be needed to pull a human into a game world is that assimilation is much easier on inert, inanimate objects that are not currently "in use" by a thinking thing, or something that relies on constant electrical signals to function. This can be something with brainwaves, or some other kind of animation like a normal robot. A mimic can convert a CRT TV that's turned off somewhat easily, but a TV that's turned on, with particles of every kind constantly moving into and out of it, is much harder to convert.
This means that humans and biological creatures in general are also trickier to convert, though it can still happen if done gradually enough. Hence, Victor wouldn't be able to rapidly convert Vance in one fell swoop, it'd be a whole process. It's easier to just pull a human into a dream instead, and if a mimic undersrands a video game, or a story in a book really well, they can basically make the fictional world into an extremely lucid reality for whatever human tags along with them.
I often describe mimics as just "jojo stands if they were corporeal and could just get up and move around on their own with no user"; you know how in jojo stand battles or old stories about magic curses, if you break the curse or kill the stand before its effect becomes permanent, all of the damage is magically undone? Like if you kill Green Day, the mold stand, all of the molding just instantly stops?
Mimics who use their powers of assimilation offensively work similarly; they can project their influence to a certain range, and partially assimilate matter in that range. If you knock out or kill the mimic, however, everything reverts to normal. A human who doesn't want to get converted can basically just turn around and walk away most of the time, or shoot the mimic, so the mimic in question needs to pull off some trick to get the human to stay within range for the assimilation to fully stick. A human can still break free and get out of range even if fully converted, but it's much harder, as assimilation usually means the mimic gaining greater control over the converted object in question. The exact range and effect mimics have is again like jojo stand ranges; it varies.
Different mimics have different affinities for different things. Victor can assimilate cheap electronics fastest because he likes them and understands how they work (it's why he's a toy bird mp3 player). Az can assimilate guns, and turn ammo into weird anomalous ammo with weird effects. Zachary is a genius who can assimilate any matter, including biological matter, faster than anyone... but he's also extremely picky and hates the sight of blood, so he only uses assimilation on things he really, really likes.
If I could somehow make another read more at this point, I would. It's gonna get messy:
What a weird power and setup though, right? Why? The true nature of mimics is unknown to most of them, but the deepest lore is that the first mimics were constructs made by a people long ago, who first made them as highly advanced machines that'd recognize the thoughts of their masters to fulfill any practical desire. Need a road built? Done. Need a ship repaired? Done. With physical needs all met, the people began to turn inward, and use the mimics to illustrate their own artistic ideas. Eventually, the will and consciousness of these people were assimilated and inherited by mimics, who themselves became people. Mimics spread, altered themselves, duplicated, deviated, fused, split, and wandered around. Getting into recreational wars, manifesting horrors and delights into reality because they could.
Somehow, after the dust settled, the strongest mimics, the angels, decide to set their sights to the stars, and observe other lifeforms develop technology and their own art. Did mimics come to earth millions of years ago, and simply watched humans grow, evolving with them in-tandem? Or did humans make the first mimics, and somehow became undone and set back to the stone age? The answer to this mystery is currently known only to the oldest of mimics. Except Zachary. He's old, but didn't care to remember.
This is generally why mimics seem so compatible with humans; they were made by either them, or people who were, for whatever the reason, very much like them, flaws and all. The ability to assimilate is basically the conversion of matter into a more malleable state of information. A virtually magical power, but this was achieved not through prayers and spells, but a very human-like obsession with developing technology to the point of exerting control over molecules, then atoms, then the lowest planks of matter. The obsession with scaling every mountain and crossing through every valley. To rip the natural world apart, and hopefully, put it back together before it's too late. Angels seek to ensure humanity walks the right path there, but with human's own desires and intent honored, for better or worse.
To answer your question: yes. A mimic of Mario can pull you into the game and you can jump with him and eat shitty low poly spaghetti with him.
The process for doing that is just convoluted and complicated, and you need to get to know each other a bit first. If he tries to use it as an attack though, it either won't work, or it might just wind up giving you mild brain damage.
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pipermintz · 10 months
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Bob the Builder: Can we fix it?
Me as a four y.o.: NO!!!
The CIA: We got a code-9 potential iconoclast. Blast this kid with mind disruption beams, make sure she drinks plenty of red 40 corn syrup, double dose her with unrestricted internet access starting at age 5, give her a Gamecube with Animal Crossing to really seal the deal.
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datastate · 8 months
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i'm sure it's unintentional, but a lot of things w akiyama's story really do seem to indicate he's trans.
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gamebunny-advance · 1 year
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Power from the People (NSR Theory and Speculation)
I was thinking about the convo we had about why B2J don't literally die from being attacked by the NSR artists, and how it's likely because the power/magic of being artists is what makes them more resilient. In the original theory, the only real support I had for this idea was an unsourced anecdote that devs said that the artists are powerful due to artistry being a source of power in this universe, but it wasn't supported by anything in-game. However, I recently realized that there actually is something in-game that supports this: the upgrade system.
NSR's upgrade system trades "fans" earned from defeating megastars for new abilities.
So the game equates fan support to literal power: it's only through fan support that B2J can unlock their full potential. There is a similar correlation in the Megastars in that their power is proportional to their popularity. Arguably, since Tatiana once ruled the entire city with The Goolings at some point, this rule even applies to her as the final boss, and most powerful member of NSR.
That said, I do wonder how much of any given artist's ability is linked to their fan support. Like, if someone is inarguably talented but is unknown to the greater public, would they still have the same abilities as the megastars? Can talent only get you so far if you don't have the reach or connections to get support?
I mean, B2J can get upgrades through fan support, but you can technically go through the entire game without buying a single one and the amount of fans you have doesn't provide any kind of passive buff, ergo B2J start the game already strong enough to take down Tatiana. In fact, they start the game strong enough to take down DJSS without any fan support since May considers Kliff their first fan, but he doesn't get involved until after DJSS is defeated, so if the artistry = power theory is also true, then fan support may not be necessary at all for an artist to have extraordinary power and the fans are just an extra buff.
But, if fan support isn't linked to power, but is instead linked to special abilities, then why does Tatiana still have time/fire powers if she *doesn't have an active fanbase anymore? Did her abilities stay even if the fans aren't actually there to support her, or is the support from her staff enough to still give her all those abilities since she's still a talented guitarist at her core? Or do all her political supporters count as "fans" that she can draw power from? Is it both? Are Mayday and Kliff's admiration of her still giving her power? If power comes from any kind of support, then does a person even need to be an "artist" to get the kind of power buff that we see the artists getting? If enough people get convinced that Amal is a real unicorn, will he eventually be able to preform miracles? Does this example not even work, since he's technically participating in a performing art by acting as a unicorn to begin with?
There are just so many interesting questions to be asked about this…
*Since you still gain fans and a platinum record from beating Tatiana, she may actually have an active fanbase which would render the rest of the speculation moot, but the entire framing and mechanics of Tatiana's fight are so weird and don't fit into the pre-establish mold, that I have a hard time parsing any useful information from analyzing her boss battle. I dunno what's real, what's metaphorical, what's just there because this is a video game, and it doesn't make sense to just abandon the pre-established systems for this one fight.
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aeide-thea · 2 years
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not to be like 'if your mental picture of Men is a dismissively vitriolic generalization based on (a) some bullshit you dredged up on twitter and (b) the men you personally know, all of whom are apparently blinkered cishet white conservatives and may or may not be your father, you may want to expand that picture and also your social circle,' but.
#like. misogyny is real and poisonous.#also some of the people in my life most outraged by the dobbs decision are men. VERY much including my 69-year-old cishet white father.#i really think it's doable to discuss how misogyny works on a structural level#and even acknowledge the ways many men benefit from it‚ both systemically and individually#without saying No Man Understands That Misogyny Is a Thing#bc i promise you many of them do‚ in fact‚ and are even themselves adversely affected by it in a variety of ways#but that would involve being open to sites of solidarity—being careful with each other so we can be dangerous together‚ etc—#and so many people would rather regurgitate reactive‚ chauvinistic‚ binaristic circling-the-wagons rhetoric#because it feels good to be the one sneering for once#like. god knows obliviously sexist men (and for that matter actively deliberately sexist men) are really‚ really real#there's no 'but' there: they're real#AND it's easier to move towards better things if we take better men by the hand and ally with them#such that the shitty ones become the marginalized‚ ostracized minority#i don't know. everybody loves an angry over-general rhetorical flourish‚ and i'm not immune to that urge#but i just think. the more we do our social surgery with scalpels instead of cleavers‚ the more precise our work will be#which means less collateral damage and easier healing#anyway. forgive the tag spiral. i get frustrated.#that said presumably no one will actually see this bc it's like 2:30 AM‚ lol#theory
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paganinpurple · 1 year
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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hua-fei-hua · 11 months
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something something, "thoughts on a community vs. a service (and which one do we want ao3 to be, really?)" that i do Not have time to unpack rn but are starting to germinate and marinate in me brain
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astonmartinii · 8 months
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big time rush | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x albon!reader so how is alex albon and sorority rush connected? how is lando involved? and will the grid ever understand the greek system? [so, it's rush season, also known as my favourite time to be judgemental on social media (after the met gala of course), but like i have been bombarded with so much rush content and made a couple friends in the summer who go to alabama that my english ass needed to write something about it]
masterlist tips x
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 301,774 others
yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year !!! first year as president of theta 🩷
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user1: i get whiplash every time she posts back in america
user2: like??? how is that alex albon's sister
yourusername: we have the same mum and dad, hope this helps 👍
user3: okay yeah her and alex are the same people
alexalbon: posting this like you didn't BALL UR EYES OUT AT THE AIRPORT AGAIN
yourusername: i didn't cry because i was gonna miss ur ugly ass, i miss horsey and otto :(
albon_pets: we miss you too 🐈
user4: i personally love watching y/n's two personalities usa v uk she's like my batman
lilymunhe: don't have too much fun babe, remember to study too
yourusername: have some faith in me PLEASE
lilymunhe: i sat with you for a whole week individually rhinestoning shirts for work week i think i understand your priorities
yourusername: work week is very important lily and at least i know we'll all slay the diamonds are a girls best friend theme !!!!!
alexalbon: i'm still finding gems in all of my shoes and bags so they better
user5: i don't really understand sororities but you can bet i CHECK IN when it's y/n
user6: the way her brother is a whole ass f1 driver but she's more famous to me being the fucking PRESIDENT of theta at ALABAMA the girlies just don't get how big a deal that is
georgerussel63: any way we can get this rhinestone treatment for some merc merch
yourusername: if you wanted rhinestone merch you shouldn't have jumped ship from williams but thanks for the seat xoxo
georgerussell63: crikey can't a guy ask for sequins without being attacked these days
yourusername: all jokes georgie, but if you want rhinestones you'll have to rep theta
alexalbon
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 603,450 others
tagged: yourusername
alexalbon: enjoy your semester president, you're lucky i didn't get any photos of you ugly crying with horsey before you left. always love summer with you, even if you kept ditching us for your super secret boyfriend you thought we didn't know about ;)
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user7: the albons are so insane i love them
lilymunhe: you said we weren't gonna tell her to see how far she goes to cover it up !!!
alexalbon: this is so much more fun though i heard her scream from the other side of departures
yourusername: so i could've just used the front door rather than doing parkour out my window?
alexalbon: you going to fess up to who it is yet?
yourusername: no i don't think i will
lilymunhe: not even to me :(
yourusername: clearly you can't be trusted
lilymunhe: no babe it's not like that i swear
yourusername: i can't hear you i have a 12 hour flight
user8: the state of this comment section
user9: wait so y/n has a bf? i think i just heard the entirety of greek row fall to their knees
user10: like they had a chance babe
liked by yourusername and landonorris
landonorris: i've seen you cry your eyes out on face time to your cat
alexalbon: his name is horsey and it was a very emotional day
yourusername: you also face timed me crying with the pets that you missed me
alexalbon: stop ganging up on me this is my post and LANDO THIS IS FAMILY BUSINESS
landonorris: hmmmmm 🤨
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by user13, user14 and 3,205 others
f1wagsupdates: lando norris has flown into america a week early for the austin grand prix. lando flew into alabama and was reportedly picked up by a girl. is he off the market?
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user15: i’m sorry my little heart can’t take y/n and lando getting into relationships this year
user16: call me crazy but maybe lando and y/n are together?
user17: how did you come to this conclusion?
user16: so like when alex revealed he knew about y/n’s bf lando was weirdly all up in that comment section and now he's early to austin but flew into alabama where y/n goes to college and a brunette girl picked him up (also a healthy dose of delusion)
user18: no but why does this make sense though
user19: i once again implore you guys to understand that men and women can be friends, not all women in a 5 miles radius of a man is in love with him
user20: i would love for this to be y/n simply for the alex meltdown that'll follow
user21: he already said he's not overprotective just annoyed that he couldn't figure out who it is, so if it's one of his best friends i think he'll lose his mind
user22: imagine being a pledge and walking into the house to see LANDO NORRIS?
user23: trying to imagine lando of all people in sweet home alabama is killing me someone save my guy
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 359,0344 others
yourusername: first week of classes and i'm missing my cats
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user24: A MAN? i knew she had a man but that's. A MAN
albon_pets: we miss you too big sis, can't wait for thanksgiving
yourusername: have a nandos on me tonight babes xx
albon_pets: this is why you're our favourite sibling
alexalbon: i'm right here guys
user25: we've lost her to the soft launch
user26: literally like show me his face so i can stalk him
alexalbon: agreed
lilymunhe: pretty girl, we miss youuuuuu !! can't wait to see you in austin
yourusername: literally counting down the days
lilymunhe: will the mystery man be there?
yourusername: he may ...
alexalbon: i hope he's ready for the interrogation
landonorris: alex mate you're about as intimidating as a tumbleweed
alexalbon: you're in albon business an awful lot lately norris 🤨
user27: the alex meltdown is starting
landonorris
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,302,778 others
tagged: yourusername
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landonorris: two dummies, one car, and an attempt to get into the cota paddock
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user28: OMFG
yourusername: i can only drive stick, this is known. and so many fans, i didn't want to run anyone over
user29: it was a close call but you did nearly hit me, i appreciate the swerve
yourusername: MY BAD OMG as you can all tell, alex got all of the good driving genes in the family
landonorris: don't worry babe, i won't make you drive again
yourusername: thank you baby, i was born to be a passenger princess
alexalbon: BABE? BABY? PASSENGER PRINCESS? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?
yourusername: surprise?
alexalbon: you were doing parkour to see LANDO?
landonorris: i don't appreciate your tone alex i am a catch
yourusername: you are a catch
alexalbon: can a man not have a breakdown in peace anymore without you people flirting underneath it
lilymunhe: you guys are kinda cute, i'm seeing the vision
alexalbon: am i joke to you?
yourusername: alex please be happy for me, i'm so so happy with lando, he's the best for me
landonorris: i promise i love y/n, i won't hurt her
alexalbon: i know, but give me three business days to process and NO MCLAREN MERCH
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 502,300 others
tagged: landonorris, alexalbon
yourusername: lando on the podium and alex in the points, you know what that means? took my best boys to their first frat party (they didn't fare well)
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user32: the grid at a frat party is something i thought i'd never see
user33: waiting for old men to say that americans are ruining the sport
landonorris: why were people on the roof? why was i on the roof?
yourusername: lets not announce that baby, i don't want zak brown to sue me
landonorris: i'm never drinking again... you do this every weekend?
yourusername: you are literally an f1 driver, you have much harder weekends
landonorris: well at least after this i got cuddles
lilymunhe: based on how late you were to brunch, i guess it was a lot of cuddles
landonorris: i am clingy, let me live
yourusername: i like clingy lando don't worry baby
alexalbon: you need to drop out immediatelt that was terrifying
yourusername: LOL
alexalbon: why were they all so loud and why did they all insist on drinking upside down? this place is so unserious
yourusername: just say you miss me alex
alexalbon: fine, i miss you (also now we know about you and lando, he did nothing but complain about missing you the whole flight home)
user34: alex already sick of lando's shit they crack me up
landonorris
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liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,400 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: cosplayed as a theta sister for the week with the love of my life
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user35: this is the cross over i could never see coming but am not angry about
user36: so does someone on the grid finally get the greek system?
landonorris: no ❤️
yourusername: the prettiest sister ever (anyone from the house ready this, he doesn't count don't worry)
landonorris: i am the prettiest sister regardless sorry not sorry
yourusername: they just warmed up to you :(
landonorris: they warmed up to me the minute i doordashed chipotle for the whole house
yourusername: true
landonorris: also miss president, why is that a full time job? i really don't get greek life
user37: the image of a whole house of sorority sisters and then just lando is so funny to me
user38: he's the president's bf so i doubt anyone had a real problem
yourusername: he's also unbelievable levels of girlypop
landonorris: it's my greatest asset
yourusername: i can think of another one ;)
alexalbon: HAVE SOME SHAME PEOPLE
yourusername: HIS PERSONALITY
landonorris: and something else ;)
alexalbon: STOP PLEASE OR I'LL REVOKE MY APPROVAL
user38: i need a relationship like this stat
user39: omg when y/n graduates i can't wait for her to be back with alex and lando full time ... the chaos will be crazy
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note: please enjoy this little one!! gonna start going through any requests now xx
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brehaaorgana · 4 months
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ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.
You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.
DISCLAIMERS:
Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.
Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)
This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.
My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.
I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.
DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???
Okay? OKAY.
Ahem.
You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.
It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.
If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.
They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!
So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.
If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.
Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:
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They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.
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1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.
THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.
You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:
A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.
So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.
The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.
Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.
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leighsartworks216 · 6 months
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To Be Warm And Comfy
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I was only going to write down this little idea before I took a nap... And then I ended up writing the whole thing
The crochet theme actually came out of nowhere for me. I cannot crochet anything more than a chain to save my life, but I do loom knit from time to time
Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth
Word Count: 776
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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Slotted between his legs, you rested your back against Astarion's chest. His arms coiled around your waist and held you close, while he pressed his nose into your neck and peered over your shoulder. With practiced hands, the yarn slid through your fingers at the perfect tension, hooked and worked together into rows of perfect stitches.
He'd never seen anything quite like it. During his living years, he focused on intellectualism and law, not crafts. And during his servitude, sewing and embroidering came about from necessity, though he did still enjoy them. This was incredible. He couldn't stop watching as you worked in smooth movements to crochet your little project. You wouldn't tell him what it was, but he was content simply to watch.
For several weeks, this became the nightly pattern. You'd lay back in his arms while he held you, watching you work away in silence or with idle chatter. When you finished for the night, you'd set your project aside where it wouldn't get damaged, he'd gingerly bite into your neck and take his share, and he'd lay down with you as you drifted off to sleep. Usually he stayed, if he'd had enough to eat during the day and didn't need to sip on some boar or squirrels. Sometimes he would read while you crocheted, sharing his favorite bits with you. It was nice. Peaceful.
You told him, one night, that you were almost finished. He'd watched with rapt attention then, studying the way you fastened off and weaved the excess yarn back through the stitches. He'd realized almost a week ago that it was a sweater, but it was almost a marvel when you held it up by the shoulders in front of you both to show it off.
He kissed your jaw with a gentle squeeze around your midsection. "It looks wonderful, darling."
You hummed, smiling brightly. "I'm really glad you think so." You sat up and turned in his arms. He didn't fight to keep you where you were, though he certainly missed the solidness and warmth you provided. You held it out to him. "Put it on."
He frowned, confused. "Don't tell me you spent weeks making that just to give it away?"
"Of course I did, now put it on."
"I'm hardly worth the effort," he scoffed. He did not accept the gift. His expressions mixed oddly - light-hearted joy, befuddlement, self-deprecation - all flooding his system and overwhelming him. He simply could not grasp the fact you'd go through all the effort for him. "Surely it would look much nicer on you!"
You sighed, understanding and long-suffering. "Tell you what, if it doesn't fit or you don't like it, I'll keep it. Deal?"
He sighed, too. He'd hardly be able to refuse it once he put it on. But you nudged the sweater in his direction again, and how could he say no?
You watched with a wide grin as he slipped it over his head and slid the sleeves along his arms. It was... really nice, actually. Warm and soft without feeling constricting. It fit him perfectly.
"You're always so cold," you explain, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing forward until your chin was against his chest. "So I made you this. You can wear it when touch is too overwhelming, or if you feel too out of it to cuddle. I just want you to be warm and comfy."
He chuckles breathlessly, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be very comfy in this."
His undead heart ached. You went through so much trouble. He'd seen you struggle to find enough of the same yarn, watched you cuss and groan every time a stitch fell or when you had to undo a section because you miscounted. He'd held and massaged your hands when crocheting began to wear them out. 
And still you persevered. For him. You even ensured it would fit a little loose, so he wouldn't be claustrophobic. It was... a lot. To have someone go through all this trouble.
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up until he could give you a proper hug. He nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, and he sighed. Softly, sweetly - completely relaxed.
"Thank you." He bit his tongue before he could ask if you were sure, if he really was worth the effort. Surely, by making the sweater, you'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was. "I shall cherish it always."
"I love you," you coo sweetly by his ear.
He must look like a fool with how wide he's smiling. "I love you, too, dear."
---
Tag List:
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vvenus-child · 4 months
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❀ an: my first Dean x Reader fic! this was a wild dream I had last night where I could just feel his angst of being ignore by his girlfriend-not-girlfriend. I hope you like it! I post on Ao3 too, mostly Dramione and original works. Here is the link. Feel free to DM me ideas to write down too! ❀ tags: Dean Winchester x Reader; NSFW (just a bit); Angst; Hurt/Comfort
Sam was waving at you from the driver's seat of a rental car. Something inside of chest pinched a bit for not seeing Dean's Impala waiting for you. Your feelings for him were so obvious, pathetic even.
"Hey! How was the hunt?", Sam asked when you closed the door. As usual you two made conversation for most of the ride before falling in comfortable silence. It was mostly like this with him. Sam was a easy person, someone people felt comfortable to share your or to stay in silence.
"Have you talked to him? Is he okay?", you asked sheepishly. The question was hanging in your head since the minute you left the bunker to hunt. Your heart felt tight, your throat sore and dry every time you thought about Dean. Most of it was embarrassment for not being able to contain your feelings, always seeking to be close, to take care of him somehow. But what was love if not the desire to see them happy? What was love if not seeking their happiness by being anything they needed you to be?
Sam laugh's cut your self pity session. He glanced at you in the corner of his eyes, side smile playing in his face like he was a joke you weren't part of.
"You gonna tell me you two didn't talk for the last weeks? He didn't call every night to bitch about how you were taking too long or how I'm never able to make coffee right? Really?", he said shaking his head.
His question caught you off guard for a moment. Frowning at him you took a minute to try and understand.
"No?", the weird assumption really didn't make sense, at least not when it came to Dean. You were the one that initiated the conversations. You were the one that always made sure small things like his coffee or his whiskey never ran out at the bunker. You were the one gravitating towards his presence in the room. So to think he would make the effort to call you, or even miss you, was a wild idea by far.
"Come on!", Sam snorted this time. "You two seem glue by the hip, it's impossible."
"Dean would even notice if I didn't said a word to him", you let out without thinking.
"Yeah, like you two don't spend time alone behind everyone's back"
The memories of the nights spent together, the moments you almost thought he was about to do something flashed in your mind. You couldn't almost smell his scent, hear his laugh, listen to his voice grave sharing bits of his life in the dark of his room when no one else was there to hear but you.
This was becoming ridiculous and painful. You tried to pretend, but it was not useful with Sam. He had a reason for being the one that they used to pry information out of people at hunts. Sam's damn eyes always made people break.
"You know this thing is one sided, so please stop with the jokes. It makes me feel more stupid than usual".
"It's not a joke", he said while parking the car. Sam turned to you with a raised hand. "I'll bet you 100 bucks that if you ignore him for the next few days, he will lose it."
You looked at the extended hand with caution. Right. 100 bucks. To prove your point, which was something you love to do and to stop being pathetic. Easy money. You took the bet without thinking twice. Maybe try to purge this feelings out of your system with a bit more of self respect was just the thing you needed.
You left the pie you bought for him at the trash can before going down to the bunker. Maybe this was going to be fun.
Dean heard the door open with a creak when Sam had finally came back. Behind him, you followed with a smile while saying something.
"Did you bring the pie I asked, Sam?", Dean shouted from the table. He was trying to find this lore about a sea creature that lured man but, supposedly, wasn't a mermaid because the bodies would be found on the shore with their blood drained. A great combination of little mermaid and Edward-fucking-Cullen.
Dean's eyes glanced to you carrying a huge bag over your shoulders. It had been weeks since you left. It was normal to not call during small hunts, but he still felt a bit uncomfortable to not have a single call. It was such a chore to make a phone call or even leave a voicemail every now and then? Just to make sure you were alive?
He opened his mouth to complaint just as you passed right through directly to your bedroom. No hello, hi, how are you, but still laughing at some joke he was not privy to. No tales about how it went, no nothing. That really bothered him for a reason he couldn't pin down. You didn't owned him a explanation, not at all, but it was basic courtesy - in his mind at least.
"Is she okay?", Dean asked Sam who, to anyone's surprise, didn't bring the goddamn pie but seemed to not have forgotten his own rabbit food.
Sam made a fake surprised face that showed him knew something was up.
"I don't know? She was just telling me how the hunt went. Maybe she is tired?"
Dean decided to let it go. He was already pissed about the pie and you acting weird was just the icing on top.
A few days later, Dean couldn't shake the feeling you were avoiding him. At breakfast you only talked and smiled to Sam or answered Dean's questions when directed at you - always with a brief phrase or a dismissive nod. You weren't being rude or down right ignoring him, not at all. Still felt like Dean was nothing but a small fly in your radar or someone you only noticed when he opened his mouth. The easy smiles you two had, the late night conversations, the shared beers, everything, seemed to be gone. It bothered him. It bothered him a lot.
Growing up Dean hadn't felt jealous of Sam most of the times. The kid was his to raised and take care of, especially when Sam's and John's fight got too heated. He had given his life for his brother and would so again in a heartbeat.
But right now he wanted to punch his face so hard his nose would touch the wall behind his back. The fucker knew what was going on and didn't let a pip out of his mouth to help. "She seems normal to me, Dean" this or "Stop being a freak, she didn't not ignore you" that.
The three of you were hunting the vampire-mermaid thing at Fremont Beach a little bit more that 12 hours from the bunker. The change in scenario did nothing to help Dean's situation and, if anything, it worsened. Usually in ride you would offer to drive, in which Dean would deny and say he was fine. This time you only offered to change when Sam was driving. You didn't even complaint about the music, for God's sake.
Dean's breaking point was the way you flirted a bit too much with the waiter at the dinner, an younger stupid college student who was all smiles for you. He didn't even had a beard. Not even a shadow of it. It was ridiculous.
"So what's the matter? You can talk to Mr. Just Came In My Pants but not to me?", Dean asked outright with his jaw clenching so hard his teeth were about to break. Sam chocked loudly with his coffee, while you just looked at him with wide eyes and mouth half open.
"I think I need to smoke a cigarette", Sam said getting up from the table.
Dean didn't let his gaze out of your face, anger boiling inside.
"You don't fucking smoke! Your brother lost his mind and you leave me?", you spoke in a loud whisper.
"I do now", Sam said already at the doors.
Dean waited for a answer. Your eyes, finally looking at his after weeks, blinked so much that he thought the question would've broke.
"I'm speaking to you, we are having this insane conversation right now. I don't know what you are talking about", you said coldly.
The warm feeling spreading in his chest hinted at something Dean didn't to explore. The jealousy, the anxiety about what was going on, all those were feelings he absolutely didn't want to explore. He just missed your company so much. Dean always felt something was wrong with him, something lacking, but when he was with you this feeling lessened. He felt worthy, he felt seen. John never sat down to talk to him, to spend time with him. Sam ran away the first chance he got. Mary... Mary was a whole other can of worms that he didn't want to open. He had Lisa and other people in his life, but they weren't like you. You two were made in the same cloth. The same strong material that would cover loved ones, would protect them. Same shitty childhood, same fuck-up parents. You were the one he shared his life with at all times, good or bad. More than friends or lovers or anything people would use to describe. Dean could point the term to save his life but you were his and the silent was slowly killing him more than any monster would.
"It was something I did?", he asked in a whisper. He jaw clenched in tension, voice raspy and sore from untold words.
Your eyes ran to the window for a second and he was ready to beg for them to come back. When you looked at him again they were filled with caution, your lips pursed in a way he knew you were choosing words carefully. If Dean didn't know you, he could've missed the pain there. Could've missed the blush in your check's or the way your bottom teeth bit your lower lip in worry.
"Because it's pathetic, isn't? The way I was all in your life, hanging around the edges waiting for crumbs of your attention. Waiting until the day you would notice me or how I feel. Even Sam, who is the most subtle person I know, mentioned it. So no, it's not something you did, it's something I did all the time and it needed to stop for both of our sake."
The weight of your explanation took a second to sink in. All that Dean tried to push down was now in the clear, finally acknowledged one of you two. He wanted to go over the table and kiss your lips, kiss you until the wasn't any air between you two. He wanted to act on the burning sensation he always felt when you got too close. He thought back to all those nights in the bunker, when it was late and both of you were just a bit pass tipsy and going on drunk and his eyes would linger longer on your lips or the curve of your neck. Dean thought back to the first time he saw you covered in blood, not yours but someone else's, and his cock got so hard he had to stroke himself twice just to get rid of the image.
"That's what you think?", was all he let out for a moment. "That you hang around the edges of my life?" Dean ran his hand over his lower face in frustration.
Your sarcastic laugh sounded so bitter to his ears.
"It's not what I think, it's what it is", you looked at him in defeat. "I love you and I don't care if you don't like me the same way. I know you care for me in some extend, of course, and I content to see you happy and being your friend or what you need at the moment. But maybe I needed a little time to settle my feelings", you shrugged.
He wanted to break something out of frustration. He could feel the anger burn his veins. All those days, running scenarios, trying to find the reason why this bothered him so much. The old self hate that steamed inside him late at night, his old company, making him formulate all the reasons he could've fuck up your... friendship? The word never felt right between you two. It was something else.
After a moment of silence Dean threw a couple bills at the table and took your hand, leading you both out the restaurant.
"What are you doing? Are you going insane?", you screamed trying to get out of his hold. He didn't let you go, however.
Dean searched with his gaze to see if Sam was around the car before throwing you inside and going right after. He pulled your hair in the back with a gentleness that didn't match the wild expression in his eyes.
"Look at me and listen carefully", he said between his teeth. The fire running thought his veins was even more intense now. Dean could feel your body under his branding him like iron. Your legs around his hips made his cock twitch with the slightness movement of your body. "You are not in the fucking edges. You are all around me. You are all I fucking see. If anything, everyone else is at the goddamn edge and you are in the damn center", he said each word getting closer and closer to your lips. He could smell your breath, something so yours that he couldn't find the correct word to compare. Dean swallowed hard before taking the last step.
His mouth closed down in yours making time stop. Dean groaned against your lips, biting down almost hard enough to break skin. He wanted to taste you, swallow you, in a manner that your being would never not be apart from his anymore. Your hands went up to his neck pulling him closer, trying to breach the barrier of clothes between your bodies.
"Please...", you begged against him, grounding your cunt against his cock. It was deliciously painful to have your body so pliant under him. Having you beg for his touch, a needy expression on your face.
"Shh...", he cooed, "I know... I know".
Dean's hand went down your neck stroking your skin until he got to your breasts, pinching your nipple with just the right pressure. His tongue stroked your lips in a slow, deliberated movement, tasting like starved man.
"I finally get what I want, so you have to be a good girl and take it, alright?"
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helaelaemond · 7 months
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Teach Me Your Touch - Michael Gavey x Reader
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HELAELAEMOND’S KINKTOBER
thank you @arcielee for the banner!
Pairing:  Michael Gavey x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: You missed a lecture and have your classmate Michael Gavey share his notes and help you catch up. He's not good at teaching, and he makes you feel stupid. He makes you feel bad. When you cry, he wants to fuck you all better.
Content warning(s): light elements of bullying (prior to smut), feelings of intellectual inferiority
KINK CATEGORIES: public sex, crying, inexperience/loss of virginity (male), fingering (female receiving)
Rating: E
Tagging those who showed interest: @llemes @assortedseaglass @sapphire-writes @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @humanpurposes @underjeno @st-eve-barnes @arcielee @babyblue711
Michael's voice is snappy. "Are you listening to me?"
You look up at him in defeat. "Yes, I'm trying! But I don't-"
"I can't make it any clearer!"
You lean forward on the table and rest your head in your hands. "You're making me feel stupid."
He huffs. "Maybe you are."
Arsehole. Why did you even ask him for his help? You know he's a dickhead, but he's also smart. Last semester, you worked on a group project with him and although he was terrible working with other people, his understanding of the subject was unmatched. He's like a walking calculator, for God's sake, and that intellect seems to apply to every module.
Besides, last time, he had a mean streak, but he also seemed to soften with you. You're not exactly a bombshell, but you're still a woman, and he's a lonely man. You were kind to him last time you worked together, and it made him kinder, too.
Whatever rapport once existed between you, though, seems to have faded. Now, you're sat on the second floor of Radcliffe library under the tall arched ceilings at 2am. No one else is around to see your shame, thankfully.
It's been a long time since you've felt simple. You shouldn't feel stupid - you're on the same course as him! You only missed one lecture! It shouldn't be this hard!
"You're not making it easy to understand," you mumble.
"What?" he asks, irritated.
You lift your head and look at him, eyes red. "My mind doesn't work as quick as yours. I need you to explain it differently."
He blinks at you from behind his thick glasses, and you watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing above his buttoned collar. "Right. Fine. You did the reading, and you understand that a tangled hierarchy is a hierarchical consciousness system in which a strange loop appears. Right?"
Clenching your jaw, you nod. "That much I understand, Michael. I'm not as simple as you think."
"I don't think you're simple. I think you're acting simple."
It's too late and you're too tired. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. "You're acting mean."
"What?" He has the audacity to look shocked. "I'm helping!"
"No, you're not." You stand up and shove your notes into your rucksack hastily, along with your pens and library copy of the required reading. "You've spent the last three hours making me feel stupid and small and unintelligent, and you've enjoyed every second."
"No!" he protests angrily. "Don't tell me how I feel!"
"Alright! Well, that's how you've made me feel! And that's not fair! God, I really thought-" You cut yourself off and take a deep breath. But you're still crying, and it's embarrassing, and you furiously wipe away your tears. They're quickly replaced.
Michael stands up and follows you as you stalk off down the rows and rows of bookcases. He calls your name, but you ignore him. It's loathsome how hearing him say it gives you butterflies. "Will you just wait?" he shouts.
You whirl around to face him, making your rucksack fall off your shoulder and onto the floor. The noise echoes in the cavernous library, and you're suddenly very aware of how empty it is of other people. It didn't bother you before. It doesn't exactly bother you now, either, but... but there's something intense about the way he looks at you. It's angry, it's apprehensive, it's... it makes your skin crawl.
"What is it, Michael?" you ask. You're caught somewhere between anger and weariness.
"It's not my fault you feel stupid," he says defiantly.
"For the love of-"
"Because you're not stupid. You're just acting it. Like I said."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
He swallows. "Yes. You're not as smart as me. But that doesn't mean you're stupid."
You laugh dryly. "I don't know why I was ever nice to you. You have no interest in being nice to me."
Again, confusion flickers over his face. "I agreed to help you, didn't I? that's nice!"
"I think you only agreed to it so you could make me feel like dirt." You pick up your bag again and continue your way to the stairs that will take you down to the main entrance. You're still crying. He's absolutely shattered you tonight, and it's not fair.
Suddenly, there's a hand around your wrist, and it stops you in your tracks. It becomes abundantly clear that Michael Gavey is far stronger than he looks. You're left breathless when, out of nowhere, he pulls you between tall bookcases. He towers over you. You've always noticed how tall he is. Despite his somewhat bookish appearance, there's something about him that has always been nice to look at. Perhaps it's his thick hair, or his sharp jaw, or his pretty blue eyes. Something about him, despite his nasty streak, makes you wish he approved of you.
"Stop crying."
You sniff and look up at him in shame. "I'm trying."
"Try harder."
That makes your face crumple again. "Leave me alone."
"I want to help."
"Let me go."
"You're kind to me," he says, his voice suddenly quieter. When he says your name, it cracks. "I'm trying to make you feel better."
"It's not working."
"Teach me," he whispers. The intensity with which he is now looking at you in almost too much.
"Say something nice about me."
"Oh. Um." His hand loosens slightly on your wrist. You're all too aware of how clammy it is against your skin. You don't care. Any touch from him is, unfortunately, welcome. "Your work on our projective geometry project was good."
"I know it was."
"Alright." He licks his lips. His eyes dart to yours. "You're... good at explaining things in different ways. I'm not."
You sniff, and look down at your feet. His body is close to yours, and your gaze catches something in his trousers. Perhaps his zipper is caught on something. Or perhaps... perhaps...
Your heart races.
"Why did you agree to help me?" you ask, eyes still downcast.
"You asked."
"Why?"
"I..."
"Tell me the truth, Michael."
"Um."
It's so late, and you're so tired. The uncertainty makes the tears fall again. Your head hurts so much. "I'm going."
Michael cries out your name throatily. In a heartbeat, he grasps your shoulders and pushes you against the bookcase, and then his tall, lean body is pressed against yours and his clammy hands find their place on your neck. "Don't cry," he tells you. His face comes closer to yours. His glasses begin to steam up.
"You've done this to me."
"I want to make you feel better. But..."
"But?"
"But you're so pretty when you cry."
And then he kisses you.
It is messy, wet, and needy. He doesn't hesitate to push his tongue against yours, and his glasses press against your face. It should make you squirm away. But it makes you whimper quietly. Your bag drops to the floor, and your hands fly to his narrow hips. You open your mouth wide against his desperately, your teeth clinking against his, and he mirrors you until your lips, your cheeks, your nose, are wet with his spit.
He doesn't know what he's doing. You hardly do, either. And it's so fucking good.
"Michael," you whisper between hard and deep kisses.
He groans your name. "I've thought about this since we first met."
"You thought about me?"
He nods, before burying his face in your throat. His greedy mouth kisses up and down before they settle where your neck and shoulder meet, and he sucks. At his hips, your hands ball into fists around his belt. The carabiner he wears on it with a collection of USBs knocks against your fingers and you tug on it.
You want to fuck him.
"Yeah," he murmurs against your skin. "Think about you in lectures. What I wanna do to you."
To you. Not with you. God, that should make you want to leave. Instead, you resolve to stay.
"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly. "Show me."
"Okay."
Nervous sweat dampens his forehead, but you don't care. You feel it when he presses it against yours and palms you over your jacket. Your soft bra is padded, and you can hardly feel his touch. It's driving you mad. In frustration, you unbutton your shirt quickly and look up at him. "Touch me. Please, Michael, please-"
He breathes loudly through his mouth. His lips are wet with sailva; he's practically drooling. He hesitates.
"Have you been with a woman before?" you ask, chest heaving with need.
His grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face at the question, the mere insinuation that this is his first time. You take that as a no.
So it's your turn to teach him. But just from his desperate kisses, you're almost blind with desire, and there's not much patience left in you. So you pull your breast free from its cup, and press on the back of his head. He's so fucking tall. "Kiss me here," you whine softly. "Suck my nipple."
He is a better pupil than tutor. Perhaps, if you were less aroused, you would tell him to be gentler. But as it is, his eagerness is rough and hard and just what you need. The sharp pull of his mouth sends electricity through you, from your head to your toes, and you arch up against him.
"Your hand," you tell him. "Down my trousers. You thought about that, right?"
Against your breast, he nods. He bites your nipple, and you dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet. It's the middle of the night, but anyone could walk in.
He fumbles with your button and zipper, and then his hand is down the front of your jeans and you spread your legs. He palms you hard, and instinctively, you grind against the touch.
"Let me show you something." Your breathing is laboured already, just like his. He releases your breast from his mouth and meets your gaze with pupils blown wide. You feel your heartbeat under his hand.
You wriggle your jeans down to your knees and then push down your underwear too, enough that you can spread your legs and cover his hand with yours. You guide his long fingers against your cunt, and it takes no time at all to show him how hot and swollen your clit is.
"Like that," you whisper as you press his digits into a firm and fast pace.
"God," he whimpers. "You're so... you're wet."
You nod. "Yeah. Means I want you."
Without needing to be guided this time, his touch strays down, and he presses his middle finger through your folds. When he finds your entrace and slips inside, he moans so loudly that you have to clamp your hand over his mouth.
His eyes are wide and pleading with you. He watches your face so closely as he pushes a second finger inside of you, and he kisses and sucks at your palm against his mouth.
"That's good," you tell him quietly, nodding your head. "Rub circles around my clit with your thumb. Oh, God, yeah, like that. That's good, Michael. Oh, God, don't stop."
When your hand against his mouth goes slack, he takes the opportunity to kiss you again. He shoves his tongue back into your mouth and it's so messy, so needy so erotic, that you have to quickly push his hand away depsite your previous order.
"What?" he asks, suddenly panicked. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," you gasp. "Gonna make me come already."
His cheeks flush a deep red. "Really?"
He grins lopsidedly, and you whine, "want you inside."
Gulping, and with shaking hands, he unbuckles his belt and the clink of metal seems to echo loudly in the cavernous hall. He shuffles his trousers down his hips, mirroring you, and you look down to see how his hard cock strains against the soft briefs he wears. God, there shouldn't be anything sexy about the y-fronts he's sporting, but you can see the thick outline of him, his heavy balls, and its maddening.
Neither of you care that you're in public now. He pushes his underwear down, too, and when you whisper for him to lift you up, he does it with surprising easy. You kick your trousers and underwear off, spread your legs for him, and grasp the bookshelves at your back for support. His arms are hooked under your thighs and he watches with glasses slipping down his nose as his cock lines up against you.
Instinct takes over. He shoves his cock through your folds, back and forth, coating himself with your arousal, and he presses over your clit with his tip time and time again.
He moans your name too loudly.
"Shh," you soothe, as if you're not fighting with all of your strength to stay quiet. "God, that feels good."
"Inside?" he asks, unable to take his eyes off his cock on your cunt.
"If you want."
"I do." He meets your gaze. There's a vulnerability in him that you haven't seen before. And then you clench, and he feels your muscles tighten, and desire wins out. After a moment of slipping through you, he presses his blunt head against you, and pushes into you in one, swift movement.
The speed takes you by surprise. He's bigger than the vibrator you've been satisfied with lately, but that's alright. You're wet and throbbing, relaxed enough to take him. But it's still a stretch, albeit a blissful one. It's a stretch that borders the line between sweet and stinging, and tears prick your eyes. Good tears, this time.
"Okay?" he asks, voice cracking.
They drip down your cheeks but you smile, biting your lip, and nod. "Yeah. Hard. Go hard, Michael. Need- God, need you!"
And he does as you tell him. "Think about you," he grunts as he thrusts hard and fast. He's on the tip of his toes, knees bent, as he sets a brutal pace that has your body aflame. "All the... fuck, all the time. Oh! Oh!"
You clamp your hand back over his mouth to stifle his moans, and they dissolve into whimpers that match his hard, laboured breaths. They come through his nose and make the skin of your hand prickle. Michael grips your hips hard enough to bruise and it's so good, it's so fucking good. He wants you, he needs you. That's why he agreed to help you. That's why he accepted your kindness.
He likes you. Buried six inches deep in you, you realise this. It makes you bury your face into his neck, and you bite his earlobe. He whimpers in response. "Shh," you soothe.
"Close," he groans against your hand.
"Me too," you breathe. The coil in your stomach is tightening. The tension in your thighs spreads up your back, between your shoulders, and all the way down to your toes. As you wrap your legs around his slim waist, you wonder, in the back of your mind, if the shoes you still wear will leave a mark on his shirt.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, so good, fuck-!" He comes suddenly, buried deep inside you, and you feel him spurt inside of you. But it doesn't matter, you're so undone it doesn't matter, it doesn't fucking matter-!
He whines your name and presses his groin tight against your as his orgasm stutters over him. Dropping his head on your shoulder, he pants, and whispers your name.
"Michael," you protest quietly. "Plase, I'm not there, I'm-"
You rock your hips against him needily. As if it is the easiest thing in the world, he sets you down and pulls out, and immediately replaces his cock with his hand. Just as you showed him before, he buries his fingers back in your pussy and circles your clit with his thumb, and you appreciate it, you do, but it's not enough, it's not enough-
"Oh, God," you groan softly. "Like this."
You're trembling close and youre's so needy, and you grab his hand and press all fingers against your mound, showing him to press as hard and fast as he can. It hurts in the best way, and his hand is almost a blur, and he studies your face with an open mouth as your expression crinkles, tightens, your jaw slack and eyes scrunched closed.
The orgasm he gives you explodes through your body and you white out, knees giving way and balancing falling through. With his hand still firm against your cunt, he catches you and holds you steady, and you clutch against him blindly for balance. "I've got you," he grunts. "Easy."
But there's pride in his voice. He keeps his hand against you even after your orgasm has washed over you. Your flesh there twitches, hot and swollen, and his fingers gently press in different places to learn about you. Whatever information he gathers makes him smile.
After a long moment, enough strength returns to you that you can stand steadily again. "God, that was..."
"Acceptable?" he asks hopefully.
You're bending down to pull your underwear and trousers back on, and you glance up, trying not to grin. "It was good."
He smiles slightly and nods, looking away as if deep in thought. "Alright, that's good, then. Next time, should I wait for you to... to finish first?"
"Next time?" you ask with a quiet laugh. Standing upright, you do your trousers back up and he does the same, the USB still swinging from his belt.
"We have to do this again." Michael says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then, he brings the hand up covered in your wetness, and he licks his fingers clean. His eyes close in bliss. "You taste so sweet."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you smile even wider. "You don't have to do that."
Swallowing, he murmurs your name and smiles. It's the most genuine smile you've seen him wear. "Oh, I do. You know me. Always had a sweet tooth."
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midgardian-witch · 9 months
Note
can i request moon boys walking into the room to see reader just zoned out and like. slapping/tapping something repeatedly😭😭i know this sounds really weird but i do it all the time and i wonder how theyd react. i feel like theyd really understand zoning out often while doing some random task
It's not that weird, anon, no worries! I do hope I managed to fit what you imagined and that you like what I came up with 💙
Tapped Out
tags: fluff | domestic situations | established relationship | gn!reader
ships: Moon Knight System/Reader
AO3
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Marc
The suit unravels around him as he crawls through the open window into your shared flat. Marc takes a cursory look around until he sees light coming from the bathroom. 
Walking over he makes sure to make his footsteps louder than usual so you don't get spooked when he suddenly appears behind you. 
As he opens the door to the bathroom further, the sudden light disorientates him for a moment. He blinks and squints his eyes before he sees your silhouette in front of the sink. The mirror in front of you shows your face, toothbrush hanging limp in your mouth as your eyes stare blankly into nothingness. You look kind of adorable like this, like a puppy that forgot where it was going and just looks off into space. 
It takes him a moment, distracted by seeing you and realizing how much he missed you even for those few hours, to notice the sound. 
Your hand is slapping against the bathroom sink, no rhyme nor reason behind the timing of the hits. Marc cannot discern any pattern behind the slapping. Maybe something you do subconsciously? Well, as long as you didn't hurt yourself he really doesn't mind. 
To get your attention he starts rapping his knuckles against the doorway, not too loud, softly starting a rhythm of his own. Slowly your slapping adjusts to his rhythm until the two of you are synchronizing. 
It takes a few moments until your hand rests flat on the sink, the sound of your tapping fading out as Marc stops his movements too. He watches how your eyes regain focus in your reflection. You blink a few times before you see Marc behind you through the mirror. Toothbrush still in your mouth you turn around to greet him. As your mouth forms the words to your cheery hello the brush tumbles from between your lips onto the bathroom floor. 
Marc chuckles and steps towards you, kneeling down to reach for the toothbrush and hand it to you. "Hey sweetheart," he greets you with a smile, "Sorry for being late. You know you don't have to stay up for me, right?"
You take the brush from him and place it on the sink. "I know, but I like to see you before I go to sleep. Preferably I'd be going to sleep with you in bed with me," you counter and lean down to kiss his cheek sweetly before he gets up from the floor. 
"Hmmm, bed sounds good right about now," he murmurs as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. He doesn't mention that you've zoned out, doesn't comment on the toothbrush debacle - that's not important. Important is that he can hold you in his arms. 
You wrinkle your nose at him. "Alright, but you're taking a shower first, Mister." You both laugh and Marc nods, "I get your point. Wait for me in bed?" 
Steven
Your lips pull into a sly grin. "Who said you're taking that shower alone?" 
As he gets home from work, a spring in his step at the thought of coming home to you, Steven is a bit worried when you don't respond to him calling your name. 
"Love?" he calls nervously into your shared apartment. As he walks into the living room he sees you staring at a book, your fingers tapping rhythmically against your thigh, the book held tightly in your other hand. 
He tilts his head quizzically, watching you in silence for a moment. You looked like you weren't even reading, your eyes just staring blankly at the pages in front of you. 
Steven doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to scare you of course but you seem so lost in thought. The dull sound of your fingers tapping against your thigh echoes through the room. He doesn’t even dare breathe, afraid he may spook you with even that. 
Very quietly Steven makes his way over to you, the couch leaving enough space for him to fit comfortably beside you. 
You feel the weight on the couch shift, the subtle difference slowly pulling you back to reality. Steven freezes as you blink at him owlishly. With an embarrassed smile he waves at you. 
"Hiya, love," you watch him lean closer, taking a not so subtle peak at your book, "You ok?" 
"Yeah, I just spaced out a little. I didn't even hear you come in," you respond a little embarrassed. Steven just smiles at you kindly. "Ah don't worry, love. Happens to the best of us," he tells you with a wink. 
Jake
Carefully you put your book to the side, placing a bookmark where you left off and lean into Steven. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as you cuddle. 
As Jake enters your shared flat, his hat safely placed onto a coat rack, the sounds of something repeatedly hitting the granite counter and of something bubbling echoes from the kitchen. Curious, Jake walks over to investigate the noise and is greeted by the sight of you. 
You're standing at the counter, back turned to Jake. Your gaze seems fixated on the bubbling pot in front of you, a delicious scent emanating from it, as your hand repeatedly hits the granite counter next to the stove. 
Your hand is inching a little too close to the hot stove for Jake's liking, so without thinking he steps forward and gently grabs your wrist. You flinch, looking at him with wide eyes. "Perdón, mi vida. I didn't mean to startle you," Jake raises your hand up towards him and places a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist, an apologetic smile on his face. Your gaze softens and you lean forward to press your lips to his cheek and return his kiss.
"It's ok. I zoned out a little and didn't notice you." He hums thoughtfully and carefully lets go of your wrist. "I noticed. I was worried you might hurt yourself by accident, mi alma," Jake replies and points at the hot stove that still has a pot bubbling on top of it. You nod in understanding. As you turn back to your cooking, unsure what else to say, you feel Jake wrap his arms around you from behind.
"I know you can't control when you zone out, just as much as we can't control who fronts most of the time just…," he trails off and you can feel the nervous energy practically radiating off of him. You lean into his embrace. "I'll try to be more careful. Please don't worry too much about me, baby."
You can feel him smile against your skin as he kisses your neck softly. "I know you are capable of keeping yourself safe, mi vida. Just let me worry a little."
With a soft laugh you nod, "Just a little."
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irisintheafterglow · 5 months
Text
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)
wc: 1.9k
cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you
note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D
likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3
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You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 
“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 
“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 
“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 
“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 
“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”
“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”
“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”
“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”
“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 
“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”
“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”
“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.
“Excuse me?”
“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?
“Look, I’m not interested in any–”
“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 
“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”
“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”
“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 
“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 
I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 
A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 
“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 
“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 
“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”
“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 
“You want me to workout with you?”
“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”
“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 
“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”
“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”
“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 
“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”
“You too. Talk soon, okay?”
“I can’t wait.”
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heaven4lostgirls · 7 months
Text
hope (S.R)
pairing: steve rogers x reader
warning: angst, a little bit of comfort.
summary: the aftermath of reader leaving steve gives him clarity and has them both realizing that he needs to work harder to gain his girl back.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to come out, I’ve been swamped with uni work but I’m so happy you guys liked part 1, I will probably post a part 3 to this, which other characters do you ship reader with??? Steve is looking at some competition soon!
part 1 , part 2, part 3
tags: @nouk1998, @spngingerbread21, @blackhawkfanatic, @immyowndefender (if I wasn't able to tag you that means your tags don't work!)
Steve,
If you’re reading this, then you have realised I’m not staying in the tower anymore. Tony helped set me up in safe house for the next few weeks, I can’t stay here. You chose Sharon over me Steve and you must know that I can’t stay with someone who would choose another woman over me.
I need you to know that although it’s been hard for me to accept it, I understand. It’s not okay that you chose to leave without talking to me, but I understand if she is who you want okay? I am so grateful to have spent the last 3 years by your side, but I can no longer watch on from the sidelines as you look at her like how you used to look at me.
When I come back, hopefully I’ll be ready to talk, but I am asking you that if you ever held any form of love and respect for me, to give me this time to heal.
Thank you, Steve, for everything,
y/n.
Steve crumples your handwritten letter in his hand, the paper squashed in the palm of his hands as he throws back the bourbon in his glass. His eyes are red rimmed and his face unshaven. He has been a mess since you left a week ago, unable to move from his room, and spending his time rereading your letter hoping that he could find some small sign that you still loved him, still wanted him.
He was unaccustomed to this feeling of pain, when he got out of the ice, he assumed the pain of knowing that he had missed his time with Peggy was truly the worst form of torture but the agony of once having your love and affection and having it so brutally stripped from him, may just be at the top of his list.
He sighs as he uncrumples the paper to place it on his desk as he moves to lay back in his bed, he had been part of a repetitive cycle for the last week, working purely on survival mode before he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his door.
He knows better than to feel excited at the small hope of it being you however he knows that it’s Bucky and Sam checking up on him and bringing him food before they annoy him into getting into the shower. He can’t stand the look of pity in their eyes as they hand him his food, so he slams the door shut as soon as he gets it, placing it on his desk, he moves to the bathroom.
He turns the shower head all the way to cold, hoping it will bring some shock into his system, however because of his super soldier abilities, his immune system is fried and numb to the coldness of the water.
His eyes burn as tears roll down his face, sobs wrack his body as he pounds his fist into the wall in front of me which breaks at the force of his strength. He hears the door quietly open before he feels Bucky’s metal arm tugging him from under the water into a towel.
This has happened nearly everyday for the last 3 days, sometime on the first day, Steve had stopped acting like you abrupt leaving hadn’t affected him and broke down during his training session, to which Bucky had been helping him through his depressed state however all he ever really wanted was you.
“I want her back” Steve sobs into Bucky’s clothed shoulder as he feels his friend cooing and soothing him like a baby before he is gently placed on his bed. His body shakes with his painful sobbing as he feels Bucky rubbing his back. “I know Stevie, I know” Bucky sighs as he tucks Steve in after he exhausts himself from crying.
Meanwhile you haven’t been doing any better, your mental health slowly deteriorating at the acceptance of the end of your relationship with Steve. You had known somewhere deep down that throughout the past month whenever you had caught Steve looking at Sharon that this was the beginning of the end.
However now it was time for you to face the reality of the situation, you may have spent the last week crying your eyes out at sad romance films with ice-cream and chocolate  but you knew that enough was enough, you needed to talk with Steve and hear what he had wanted to say the day you left.
Running from your problems was not the best solution however you knew realistically you did not have the mental capacity to hear whatever Steve had to say and that it would only end up doing more harm than good considering how high strung you both were about the whole situation.
Now, as you step off the quinjet, you are greeted with Bucky’s genuine yet sorrowful smile. “Hi Buck” you greeted softly as you stood awkwardly, worrying if you could still hug him even though you knew he probably spent the last week comforting your ex-boyfriend. Not than you could blame him, they had been friends for far longer than the both of you.
Bucky just rolled his eyes before his smile widened as he pulled you into a tight hug, you breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into your friend. Your moment was interrupted by a loud voice chiming in from behind the both of you.
“Y/N!!!!” you and Bucky both separate, you with a look of amusement and Bucky with a look of annoyance. Peter’s joyful gaze found yours as he sprinted towards you. “I knew when you didn’t respond to the meme I sent you this morning, something was up!” he said excitedly as he spins you in a hug as a laugh bubbles out of you.
“Hey kid, yeah I was on a flight back from South Africa” you smile and separate from him before you see his joyful gaze darken at something behind you.
“Y/N.” you hear softly from behind you, and you freeze.
You turn around and place a polite smile on your face, not quite ready for the conversation ahead.
“Steve” you say and nod at him, he moves as though he’s going to hug you but thinks again and moves back and you’re somewhat grateful, you don’t think you’d be able to compose yourself.
You all stand in awkward silence for a bit before you break it, “I should uh” you gesture inside and he nods before he opens his mouth, “Can I help with your bags?” he asks nervously.
You were hoping to have a few minutes to compose yourself, but Steve is probably right to get the conversation out of the way.
As you both walk through the tower, you realise how quiet it is and make note to thank everyone for steering clear of the both of you.
As you both reached your old room since you had been sharing with Steve, you place you bag down before you turn to Steve who is standing sadly outside your room. “You can come in” you tease him and that snaps him out of his mood as he moves to sit at the desk in front of your bed and you sit on your bed.
“So” you both start before you motion to Steve to carry on.
“I love you y/n, I don’t want this to be the end, can we please work on this? I promise I’ll do better, and I won’t choose Sharon over you ever again.” He rushes out in what you assume is an attempt to stop the inevitable.
You smile at him in pity and before you can start talking you see him shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Steve, if you really wanted me as bad as you say you do, where was all this attention and affection this last month? Why did it take me leaving for you to realise how badly you fucked up?” you question and watch as he breaks in front of you.
The last week must have been hell for him, the same way the last month was for you.
“Please just let me try y/n, let me try please” he pleads as he moves from sitting in the small chair to kneeling before you as he grasps your hands.
You move your hands to grasp his face as you wipe his tears.
“Love, I will always love you but you need to realise how hard it was for me to sit here on standby every time you left me for Sharon, I need to choose myself for once” you confess and Steve sobs into your legs as you thread your hands through his hair as you try and calm him down.
You watch as Steve tries to compose himself in front of you before he looks into your eyes in determination. “I’m going to prove it to you” he says seriously, and you nod to placate him before he shakes his head in protest. “No, you don’t understand, I am going to prove to you how much you mean to me y/n” he says and some part of you is hopeful he tries as hard as he says he’s going to be this time.
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make it up to me Steve, you’re going to have to work for it” you say, and he deflates but nonetheless nods in understanding, realistically he acknowledges that he deserved worse treatment. He just can’t stand the idea of you finding love and connection with someone that isn’t him.
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runawaymarbles · 2 years
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Hii!
I don’t understand what’s going on with AO3 and the election? I’ve been using it for about a year so this is all new to me! Is Tiffany getting elected actually bad?
I hate censorship, so seeing posts about them censoring stuff is concerning but idk how much truth to it there is 😳
I just want to be informed, and understand!
Hi! Welcome to AO3:)
since I'm not sure how much you know already, the background (background as interpreted by me: I am not speaking on behalf of the OTW) is: Ao3 is run by the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), the nonprofit that also runs Fanlore and publishes Transformative Works & Cultures. Anyone who has donated $10 to the OTW in the last year, and chooses "yes I want to be a member" at checkout is an OTW member. (This is not the same as having an ao3 account.) Every year, there is an election to fill either 2 or 3 seats on the Board of Directors. OTW Members (i.e. people who donated between 7/1/21 and 6/30/22, in this case) get to vote on this.
Most of the time, this election is only really followed by people on fail_fandomanon. Sometimes, it isn't.
Things the Board of Directors does: writes posts to send out to the general public when Things Are Happening (the recent csam attacks, the requests for more antiracism measures.) Writes posts to send to volunteers when Things Are Happening (see prev.) Keeps track of what all the committees are doing and how it ties in with whatever the strategic plan says they should be doing. Deals with the IRS/US laws. Approves large funding requests. Deals with emails that someone else has deemed outside their own wheelhouse. Herds cats. Proposes priorities. Points at something shiny, pats the org on the flank, and says "walk that way, walk that way!! Come on buddy, you can do it!!". etc etc etc.
Things the Board of Directors doesn't do: unilaterally determine ao3 content policy. Let us use the word "porn" on ao3 drive merch. Make decisions that are going greatly affect other volunteers' work without input and some level of agreement from said volunteers.
Anyway. This year, one of the five candidates for the three open board seats is Tiffany G. (More information about all the candidates and their platforms is at https://elections.transformativeworks.org)
Tiffany is a tag wrangler from an unspecified country that is, from context, assumed to be China. The candidate Q&A can be read here. Her answers were a little bit confusing, but she said she wanted to update the ToS policies on 'pedophilic and illegal content' because, quote, "people think we host child porn content and such things... It might... be helpful to clarify that to the public." Further down she said:
a) I support 100% “maximum inclusiveness of content”, yet there is always a boundary to everything. Since OTW is already an influential org, we need to protect our image and hold a better image to the public. I want the public to think of us as an inclusive and socially responsible community. So in general, we have to do something to change. Things like making the rating system more specific and obvious to users will be what I want to do. b) Not really restricting the content being posted. I hope it is like more warnings and ratings for posting work so people know what to expect. And all of these are not surprising to people who do not wish to see this.
I took this to mean "she wants to clarify to outsiders that ao3 does not host csam, is not only for erotica, and update the ratings and warnings system." I don't think that those things are necessary or should be a focus of the org, which is part of why I didn't vote for her.
Other people took it to mean "Tiffany is against pornographic or underage works and wants them to be banned." Some people took this, combined with her nationality, to the conclusion of "Tiffany is a secret plant of the Chinese Communist Party who wants to join the board, get all the ao3 user data, and then have the users from mainland China arrested" (despite the fact that this is not information the board would have access to, if for no other reason than ao3 is blocked in China so anyone trying to view the site from mainland china has to use a VPN anyway.) Some people are upset that the OTW elections committee "allowed" her to run in the first place, because they think that not letting anyone with opinions the current board or elections committee didn't like is an absolutely great precedent to set.
There are a bunch of comments on tw.org, and some in fail_fandomanon, that give more context to her comments in terms of Chinese fandom (though most posters still disagree with her position.)
This got... longer than planned. But to the question "Is tiffany getting elected actually bad" - If my interpretation of her statements are correct, I think it would be annoying, because she does not have the experience I think that being on the Board requires, and focuses on priorities I disagree with. Which isn't to say she'd never have a valuable perspective or ideas about something, but there are four other candidates that I think are much better suited to it at this point in time. If the people who think she is an antishipper bent on censorship are correct, she could probably make life very annoying for the rest of the board-- but considering the rest of them are not pro-censorship, I can't see how she'd have much influence in that direction in the org as a whole.
If the people who think she's doing espionage on behalf of the CCP are correct, then... look, I can't even finish that sentence because I find the idea of the CCP deciding that a) they need to get ao3 user data and b) the way to do that is to run a clearly unqualified candidate in a public board election absurd.
the tl;dr of this tl;dr is that there's a lot of fearmongering going around, and a lot of accusations and hate (and racism. let’s be real a lot of this is racism) directed her way. I don't know her, so I don't know what her "real" opinions are, but regardless of who wins the board election, ao3 is not going to be censored any time soon.
if for no other reason than if the Abuse team was told on top of all their other work, they now had to assess and remove fics reported for being "problematic", they would say "we'd prefer not to" and then proceed to not do it.
It's awesome that people are realizing the board elections and OTW membership are a thing now, though. We kept talking about how to encourage membership, and "running a very dramatic and wanky election" did not occur to us. In retrospect, I don't know why.
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