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itsjunear · 3 months

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"Hidden Feelings" Part 2

Note: Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay with this second part. I had some issues and I've just been able to finish it. Again, I appreciate the time you take to read me. English is not my first language, and I apologize if this is terrible. Love you! ❤❤❤

Psdt: I want to thank everyone for all the reblogs, likes, and comments on the previous post 😭😭😭 It really brightened my week, I adore you all.

The tags are located at the end. If you want me to tag you for the third and final part, let me know.

Part 1

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Demons, I had forgotten how much I struggled with getting up early.

Especially after staying up late after dinner. I was sure I had passed out on the couch, but I had woken up in one of the rooms I used when I stayed over. I had a slight suspicion of who had brought me there, but for my own good, I decided not to dwell on it.

I forced my body to wake up and get out of the comfortable sheets. I took a quick shower, and the house already had the Ilyrios leathers ready when I stepped out, so I left a grateful remark aloud before getting dressed.

I figured most people had stayed over, so I tried to make as little noise as possible as I sneaked into the kitchen to have some leftovers from the night before. It was really delicious, so if I was going to say goodbye to good food for the time I was away, I would make sure to enjoy these last bites. I couldn't stay at the Ilyrios camps; it would be very suspicious if I did after Rhys was asking what had happened to those females. And if I wanted to get answers, real answers, I'd have to make sure to be careful. They would guess my motives for being in the camp as soon as I set foot in it. So, ruled out.

However, there was a tavern a bit further away, nothing a few minutes' walk wouldn't solve, with rooms upstairs. The Ilyrios frequented it for drinks. Therefore, that would be my biggest advantage.

A hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality, and I let out a startled shriek before turning around.

"What the hell…"

Oh...

When I noticed the hazel eyes and the shadows in tendrils spreading around the room, I relaxed.

"You scared me to death," I whispered slowly. Az smiled slightly, and for a moment, I held my breath. "I made some noise so you'd hear me, but you were committed to the mission" he pointed at my half-eaten food. I shook my head while suppressing a smile and hurried to clean up what I had messed up.

"Leave it, I'll do it" his voice interrupted me again, as his scent enveloped me, and he gently took things out of my hands. I glanced for a moment at the action, at his scarred hands moving, beautiful as anything I had seen, yet I couldn't ignore the fact that he was making an effort not to touch me, as if consciously avoiding brushing against me. A pang of pain shot through my chest, and I raised my guard again.

How foolish I was being, a complete and damn fool.

"It's okay, Azriel. I can handle it" I tried to say firmly but quietly, unaware that he was looking at me, studying me, searching for something. His wings fluttered softly, and shadows roamed freely around the room, around us.

"Why do you call me that?" he asked slowly, and I looked at him slightly confused, while tendrils of shadows wrapped around my fingers, tickling me a little with their cold touch, but managing to make me smile affectionately at them.

"Call you what?" I replied back, distracted by his shadows.

"Azriel," he said flatly. "You stopped saying my full name shortly after we met, and you've gone back to that for several weeks now."

I didn't respond. Obviously, if there was anyone in the world who could notice those things, it would be him. But I couldn't answer him, not honestly, at least. I couldn't tell him that I couldn't call him Az without it hurting, because it made me think of him with love, and I couldn't allow myself to continue that, not when I saw him with the beautiful Archeron sister. So I continued playing with his shadows, avoiding answering, but I felt his attentive gaze on me until the tendrils returned to him, and I had no choice but to lift my head to find him a short distance away from me.

"Did you take me to bed last night?" I asked, changing the subject. Az simply nodded. "Thank you" I whispered, not knowing what else to say. I swallowed hard and stepped away, ready to leave once and for all, before I did or said something I would regret later.

"Y/N" he called, "Is everything okay?"

I tensed in my place, of course, he had also noticed that. "Yes" I lied without looking at him as I moved to put some snacks in the small backpack that, oh surprise, he had given me in a past solstice and I always carried with me.

"If it's about dinner, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, it's forgotten" I interrupted, because if he said anything more, my heart would warm completely, and I would end up lowering the walls. "No" he said firmly, "questioning you like that made it seem like I thought you weren't capable. It's not about that" he looked at me confidently, his hazel eyes fixed on me, almost making me shiver.

I didn't want to know what else it was about because that would hurt my already wounded heart more, so I sent the curiosity to the deepest place in my mind and gagged it with all my might.

"It's okay, Azriel" I smiled slightly, "Apologies accepted" I took my backpack, ready to leave this house once and for all and sink into self-pity while freezing to death in the Ilyrian mountains.

"I still think it's a bad idea for you to go alone" he blurted out once I had turned my back, causing me to freeze in place.

"We've talked about this, you know I can do it." I took one more step before his voice sounded again, "I'm not saying no, just maybe…"

"Azriel, I really don't want to have this discussion again, please" I interrupted quickly. I didn't want him to offer. I couldn't let him, because then I wouldn't know what my reaction would be, and it would give me away.

"You're being irrational, you know?" he shook his head in a resigned tone.

Well, thank Mother he didn't insist further. I released the breath I was holding, and I supposed he realized that I wouldn't give in this time. Not even for him, despite the fact that, in the last few centuries, the word 'no' was never in my vocabulary when it came to Az.

"Maybe" I waved my hand without turning, "See you later, shadow singer."

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That same afternoon, I was already settled in the rundown room of the tavern. I had to persuade the owner to give me the most decent place possible, and honestly, if this was the best he could offer, I'd take it. It was either this or sleeping on the outskirts of the camp freezing my butt off.

I wrinkled my nose as the smell of mold burned my nostrils. By the Cauldron, Rhys had made me too spoiled.

"Y/N" I heard a voice in my mind.

Speaking of being spoiled…

"I can hear that" the voice spoke again.

I smiled softly. "Of course. Oh mighty High Lord" I replied mockingly.

"I'm glad to see you're in better spirits, Y/N" he responded, also teasing, and my smile faltered. A hint of humor seeped into my mind, and I realized that's what he wanted: to mess with me.

"Don't you have a mate to attend to, Rhys? Instead of bothering me?" I retorted sharply.

"Feyre is very well taken care of by me, thank you for your concern. And to answer your other question, you promised a nightly report" he remarked in that tone of superiority.

Right. "Well, there's not much to update. I'll be staying in that tavern near the camp, a bit off the beaten path to avoid suspicion. And most people here don't know me, so everything should be fine. Tomorrow I'll inquire more about the deaths of those females. A curious outsider at first, and by nightfall, I'll have answers. It shouldn't take more than three days" a touch of approval filled my mind, and I smiled slowly.

"Let me know if you encounter any problems, Y/N" Rhys paused before asking, "Is everything okay?"

I knew what he meant, and I knew I could tell him because Rhys wouldn't say a word. But opening that little crack would make everything come to light, would make me collapse, and this wasn't the time or place. So I responded with a joke instead, "No, Rhys, this room smells terrible, and the food is tasteless."

His laughter filled my head. "I didn't know you had become so spoiled aside from lazy," he said in a soft tone, and I understood… I understood that Rhys knew I was lying, but he was letting it go to avoid pressuring me. He had noticed my mood at dinner the night before, my need for space, and yet, he had decided not to comment on it.

My heart warmed; I would give my life for him, for my entire family in general.

"Thank you, Rhys" I tried to pour all my gratitude into that simple phrase, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. "For everything" I paused. "Now, go to your neglected mate before I go kick your butt myself."

His laughter filled my head again before disappearing completely, leaving me alone with the thoughts swirling in my mind.

What was that earlier with Az? When I left, he seemed concerned. I understood his position; he didn't want me to come alone in case something went wrong, especially knowing how much I detested the Ilryos for their harsh customs.

Maybe that's all it is. What else could it be? After all, I was almost as well-trained as the three of them. However, Az was the one who had been most reluctant to let me go alone. And what if…

No. I forced myself not to consider any other possibility that gave me hope. Because I had seen it, I had seen how comfortable he was with Elain, and how today, before I left, he made an effort not to touch me even a single inch.

A familiar pain filled my chest, so strong that it forced me to hug myself tightly as I wrapped myself in the blankets of the bed.

Perhaps, this was how it was meant to be. Three brothers with three sisters. There was no place for me in that equation.

And yet, I couldn't help but think of the times his eyes softened at my poor attempts at baking, even though it tasted like crap and not even Cassian could stomach it, Az would eat the entire portion. Or when in training, my muscles were so stiff that I just wanted to drop to the ground, and he provoked me, knowing what to say to touch the competitive fibers within me, forcing me to get up because he wouldn't let my pride be trampled upon. Even the times he played dirty to make me lose a fight, he knew what to do to distract me.

But none of that mattered. Not when he was with Elain.

It hurt, of course it hurt. It's not like I had been displaced from my place beside him. It's just that seeing him with the Archeron sister made me realize that I wasn't indispensable, he could be fine without me. That's why I had distanced myself, for my own good, for the sake of my feelings, of the unrequited love, and for… their sake.

That I couldn't have Az didn't mean I wouldn't let him be happy with someone else.

And by distancing myself, I supposed I had unintentionally done the same with the others. That's why I had missed some training sessions, why I had stopped going to some family dinners, because it hurt to see him. I knew Cassian was worried, I had seen it in his eyes, and for Rhys, it would be as easy as delving into my mind to know, but he would never do that.

I knew they would let me deal with whatever was happening in my own way, that's why they didn't pressure me, none of them, not even Mor, until I was ready to talk.

And that thought made me realize that I wasn't trying hard enough. I had felt lonely because I had unjustly pushed them away. When I got back home, I would make sure to do my part, I would try to be happy for Az and Elain, I would stop skipping training sessions and dinners to avoid crossing paths with him.

I loved him, and seeing him with someone else hurt me, yet I wouldn't let that affect my relationship with my family. I would pay attention to conversations during meals, I would no longer be a ghost. I had finished with self-pity.

However, I still felt glad to have volunteered to participate in this mission; they deserved all the peace they had, and if I could provide them with more time of tranquility by doing these things, I would. I would postpone everything for as long as possible and offer to go anywhere. And with that last thought in mind, I let sleep take over me and slept peacefully for the first time in months.

@going-through-shit @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @willowpains @mariahoedt @charlotteintumbleland

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #bat boys #i dont know what im doing

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catiuskaa · 5 months

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this close to begging

SUMMARY: an angsty tension formed out of pent-up feelings. a mix of alcohol, changbin and you might find just the way of solving it.

WC: 1.6k

CW: swearing, angsty feelings, drinking, drunk oral sex (f rec.), mentions of degradation and size kink, use of nicknames: bubs, my love, bunny, recreational use of pussydrunk!changbin because I say so, why not, and I think that’s all, folks! (pls tell me if I missed anything!)

TAGGING! @ur-boyfiends-reading, from a fellow seolar <3 hope you like it! (feel no pressure at all if it isn’t your kind of thing tho)

[◾️☆💠☆◾️]

You hadn’t meant it. Of course you hadn’t.

You had been fed up with everyone’s bullshit in the past week. Dealing with the cons of dating an idol was usually fine, but added to the recent stress in your minimum-wage job, with your boss constanltly prancing around and making everyone’s mood so fucking crispy, roaming and firing people in several departments— including yours.

Let’s just say you weren’t in your best of days. Or… weeks.

And Changbin, well, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him just yet. Or to talk. Much to your and his despair, his schedule had also been against you seeing each other. Always full to the brim. Packed to the infinity.

You had barely seen him the past week. Maybe even the one before, which didn’t help at all with your current exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t an excuse for the argument that stroke between both of you. You couldn’t point out who or what had started it, but the tension made the focal point of the loud discussion change.

“Leave me the fuck alone for a minute, okay!? You’re always clinging to me like a desperate little bitch.”

You froze, hands slightly trembling after those lies came out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant it, at all. You loved your smol little cuddly Binnie. You loved how you would usually wake up with his hands beneath your shirt as he pampered your face and neck with kisses, his hair messy and fluffy and his face puffy from sleep. You couldn’t figure in your head how that sentence had come off. You couldn’t understand it.

Still, for both his and your sanity, you had moved from your shared bed to the first floor, and locked yourself inside the guest’s room, which was never really used by anyone else than the rest of the members whenever they wanted to stay the night.

After you entered the spare room, you heard a ruffle of sorts and then the loud slam of the main door closing.

And since then, a couple of hours had passed.

You didn’t have the heart to text or apologize. You wouldn’t know where to start, and being honest, you weren’t sure he was going to forgive you. In your mind, that was totally plausible and justifiably so.

Where could Changbin gone? Your chest tightened, not daring to get out. What if he had left to stay elsewhere? No, Chan would’ve texted you.

Right?

You sighed, slowly banging your head against the door behind you, feeling the guilt spread through your body.

Brushing off the tears on your cheeks, you stood up, shaking your head, and decided to step out and head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

The silence in the apartment was killing you slowly. Usually, as loud as he could be, Changbin would leave traces of where he was or what he was doing with small sounds. Like the little giggles when he was texting the members. The loud cackles when he watched instagram reels, and the proud snicker when he encountered edits of himself. The low humming when a song got stuck in his head, there it be one of his own creations or the ones he listened to. The small thuds as he practiced choreographys in his study, for tiktok trends or for Felix’s enjoyment.

Now, it was just silence as you sipped from he mug. It was probably not a good idea to have coffee past one am, but you didn’t care.

And then, you heard the struggles of a drunk man trying to open the door.

You hesitated. He was a mess when he was drunk, but now he’d probably be mad. And you kind of deserved it.

Shaking your head, you opened the door, and his body, slightly taller than yours, fell like a puppet, his head nuzzling into your neck as his arms closed around your waist.

“Bubs, y-you’re so preettty,” he sniffed. He was… crying? “Ah… I- m-missed you, sooo, so muchh…” he trailed off, his eyes teary.

You tried to craddle his face or to move him away, and failed to guide him upstairs.

“N-no!” He refused, tightening his grip around you.

“My love, you should go to bed.” You mentioned softly.

His eyes widened, and his head shot up, his hands now cradling your face.

“W-what did you just say?” He muttered. “D-don’t say that. If you… do that… n-no…”

You blinked, pouting unconciously.

“What, baby?” He shivered under your touch when your hands softly grabbed his wrists.

“Remember how… I uh… said that… alcohol… uh…”

The intense blush in his face made you almost jump in your place, your eyebrows shot up slightly.

You were unable to control a smile that creeped from underneath. “My love…” you started, and he almost whimpered. “Are you getting horny?” You whispered, and he nodded against your neck.

“You… you’re just s’prettyy… ‘n you keep wearing my clothes…” his fingers started to trail patterns, slowly riding up an old hoodie of his that you had most definetely stolen.

You licked your lips.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah? Lemme take care of you.”

His body fell on the bed like dead weight. His eyes were closed, his features so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

You started taking his shoes off, followed by his socks, because you knew he hated sleeping with them on.

Changbin sighed, and you stopped.

“Bubs, please,” his hand tugged your sleeve. “P-please… just. Just… this once. ‘M so sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll talk to the company or something.” He blabbered messily, and tugged your sleeve harder, swiftly taking your other arm and pulling towards him, making you fall on top of him.

He brushed a couple of stray hairs from your face, and you struggled you find a comfortable position to lie on him.

“B-bunny, w-wait.” His hands stopped your waist. “Fuck, I need you. Please. I know ‘m drunk… just…” his features scrunched up, thinking.

“Love…” you started.

“Wait, I know!” He blurted out. “Just lemme taste you.” He smiled, breathing against your lips, in a way that you could almost taste what he had drinked earlier.

“W-what?”

He whined. “You always taste s’good, bubs. Please. Binnie need this, pleaaase…” he trailed off, peppering messy kisses on your neck.

You felt him harden underneath you as you thought for an answer.

“But we had a fight, love. I don’t want you to do this and feel wrong about it tomorrow.” You said lowly, biting your lip. “Are you sure about this?”

“I know, I know. ‘m drunk, sure, but you still taste so fucking good ‘nd look like a goddess. Thinking I’ll regret this ‘s bullshit.” He mumbled against your skin.

You got lost in thought, and he took that in advantage, rolling his hips against yours.

“You said you’d take care of me,” he whimpers lowly, his voice hoarse. “Kiss me.” Changbin licked his lips, his mouth dry. “Please.”

There was an urgency, a burning desire that crashed through your body as his lips devoured yours after a shy nod. Each touch of his lips sent ripples of warmth through your body, making both of you more hot and bothered as it grew in intensity. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of emotions conveyed through the mixture of breaths. A way of apologizing from before and a form of drunk reassurance.

The taste was a mixture of the drinks he had taken and your flavoured chapstick, tongues clashing against one another as his hands moved to your waist and turned both of you. With his figure over yours, he parted your legs with soft strokes on your thigh, leaning in, unable to separate from your lips, taste stronger and more addicting than any drink he could’ve found over at the bar.

When you broke apart, a thin strand of drool followed your lips, and without missing a beat, Changbin licked it clean. You panted, your hand on his chest as both of you stared at each other, eyes, lips, taking in the other’s untamed beauty. It was a moment suspended in time, entering your shared bubble back in what felt like months of craving.

Changbin went right back, biting your bottom lip, trailing lustful kisses down your neck, taking your and his clothes off as if they burned, nonchalantly throwing them elsewhere.

“So good, my cute little bunny… already wet, huh?” He snickered, leaving marks on your neck and trailing dow, playfully biting the inside of your thighs. “Binnie’ll make ya feel s’good.”

His kisses started to get closer and closer to your core, making your sigh impatiently, whimpering. He cooead at you, and planted a teasing kiss on your cunt.

You squirmed on your place. “B-binnie…!”

“Shhh, bunny. S’okay.” Changbin smirked slyly, dragging his tongue on you in languid strokes. He grunted when you started moaning louder, your hands now in his hair, his mouth spread wide on you.

As you started babbling in pleasure, he started making out with your sloppy cunt more vigorously, tugging at your thighs, like he wanted to be crushed by them.

“Y’know, fuck…” he moans, and it travels all through your body. “when ya said I was a desperate lil’ bitch… fuck… made me so horny…”

He stared at you from in between your legs. “Binnie’s such a desperate slut for bunny, huh?”

He spread you open with two slender finger, moaning just by feeling how small you are and how you clenched around his fingers, imagining how tight you'd be around him, and he started grinding against the matress unconciously.

He stops grinding when you moan his name and grasp his hair, and lets you ride his face as you reel in pleasure.

You whine when his kisses get too intense and he comes up, his arousal all over his lips and chin, kissing you with all tongue and teeth, allowing you to taste yourself.

“We’ll keep going in the morning,” he panted. “Can’t have enough of you.” Changbin murmured against your neck, falling asleep with you.

~kats, who wrote this while blasting ‘careless whisper’ on her headphones just to see how far she could take it.

THINK I DID OK AS MY FIRST ACTUAL SMUT?!

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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Howdy, so I don't know if you have seen The Last of Us, but if you have, you know the scene where Joel saves Ellie from the hospital and he just ploughs through everyone and its like wow -///-

I just think it would be a really cool like drabble if this was a Din x reader fic? Only if you wanted to write it though!! Also I'm so happy that I'm on your taglist for inevitable because I jump to read it every time that I see that I've been tagged, it has me in a chokehold and the way that you write the reader is so damn good.

Your writing is something that brings comfort to me every week, and the way you interact and talk to your followers is so sweet. I love coming back from a stressful day to sit down somewhere comfortable to enjoy your work.

Anyways thanks for reading this ramble of an ask and I hope that you're doing well :)

[a/n]: combining some stuff here! this is for the anon who asked for this scene AND for @cockscombkingdom who asked for a fic in Din's POV where he takes care of reader and keeps her safe. I started with the plan to make this very sweet and fluffy and I'm not gonna lie a little darkness seeped into it. my bad.

also in case it isn't abundantly clear i am a joel miller apologist thx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injuries, mild dark!din (if you squint and/or have a problem with murder)

Word Count: 1,440

Summary: You were selfless. You gave and you gave and you gave. The universe planned to only take more, but Din Djarin would be damned if he let it.

LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

"you'd just come after her." -Joel Miller (TLOU)

Din was worried about you. He was always worried about you because you were always on his mind. It couldn’t be helped. Somebody had to because it seemed like you were perpetually too worried about everyone else. Din admired that about you. He always had. You went out of your way to help anyone and everyone who approached. You had a heart that was always willing to give, and it left you too little to use for yourself.

When the two of you first began traveling together, he noticed that about you. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied watching Grogu you’d forget to eat. Peli had once put you to work, organizing her tools as part of the payment to fix the Razor Crest, and you had been so focused on getting the work done well that you had taken no breaks and ended up dehydrated and weak under Tatooine’s hot suns. It’s why the mission he was delivering you to made such simple sense to him. You were special, is what you told him. Din knew you were special, felt it, but it was for very different reasons. According to you, there was something in your blood, some type of cell, that could cure a lot of people of some terrible, terrible disease spreading through a world in the Outer Rim.

Din tried to keep his distance from you. Tried to not get attached. But you were so selfless, that it naturally brought out his protective side. He couldn't help but care for you, but caring for you as a responsibility had quickly turned to loving you along the way. Din didn’t know a lot about love. Didn’t have much experience with it, lust was easier to grasp, and that left him confused most of the time. Din had no idea how to express what he felt for you, how to explain it in words, so he did the only thing he could do. Din took care of you. Kept you safe when he stopped to pick up quarries, made sure you remembered to eat and drink water, reminded you to go to bed and when you would eventually forget anyways he’d carry you there himself. Din didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but what he did know was that being without you made his heart physically ache and protecting you brought him happiness.

Maybe that’s all he needed to know.

‘It’ll be okay.’ You had promised him with a smile that made your features glow. ‘Shouldn’t take long.’

That had been hours ago. Din delivered you to the medical facility as he had been hired, but when you hadn’t come back out he sought after you. It’s why he now sat in a small room, Imperials flanking the door, as he simmered in disdain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Mandalorian.” A man stepped into the room. A doctor from the looks of it with thin, round rimmed glasses. The name ‘Pershing’ pinned to his lapel. Din stayed silent. “I was under the impression that you had been paid. Was there an issue?”

“No.” Din replied. “Where is she?”

Dr. Pershing paused and shook his head as if confused. Din tilted his head a bit, an obvious threat in body language, and the doctor was smart enough to realize this. He nervously cleared his throat. “She is being prepared for her operation.” Din narrowed his eyes in confusion. You told him they’d just need your blood. “There is no reason for you to stay.”

“I promised her a ride back.”

There was a tense silence that filled the room at his words. Din watched the doctor squirm where he stood and he needed no further clarification. He shoved up from the table, prepared for a fight, when the Imperials leveled their own weapons at him before he could reach his blaster.

Dr. Pershing held his hands up in a placating manner. “She will be a hero. After we drain her of all her blood, we can make a cure. There’s a 65% chance this will work and save the people of this world.” Din was fuming under his armor. Drain your blood? They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for something that only had a 65% chance of even working. “She will not be in pain! She’s been put under! She will not feel a thing, and we did not scare her with the news.” Din staggered back as if he had been physically hit. Was this man saying… Dr. Pershing confirmed Din’s thoughts. “We did not tell her this would kill her. We spared her that misery. She went under anesthesia peacefully.”

The words echoed in Din’s head loudly. As if a bomb had gone off right beside him and left him deaf and blind. He walked on autopilot as the Imperials escorted him through the building toward the exit. They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for a shot in the dark cure. Din was literally paces to the door when his boots stilled. The Imperials shoved him, tried to get him to move, threatened to shoot him, and then Din snapped.

With the practiced precision of a bounty hunter and Mandalorian who spent most of his life in a fight, Din spun and cut down the Imperials in one swift movement. The darksaber glowed angry in his hands, casting threatening shadows down the hall. Never before had the sword worked so well for him, but as Din marched through the facility it was practically an extension of himself. Blaster fire pinged off his beskar and he did not hesitate. If a person stepped into his path he eliminated them. Cold. Ruthless. A predator. Din stalked the medical facility searching for you, and he left a wake of death and destruction in his path.

When he finally caught sight of you, through a window into some kind of clean room. Din felt his heart flutter in his chest. The first twinge of emotion since starting this rampage. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. A reminder that his actions were necessary.

Din stormed into the room, his eyes not leaving your unconscious form as you laid on a table in a hospital gown. The staff in the room panicked in a flurry, and one of them⏤ maybe the doctor maybe a nurse, Din didn’t even register who the kriff it was⏤ rushed him in a poor attempt to stop this onslaught. Din cut them down without blinking. Without taking his eyes off of you. The second you were in his arms, Din felt marginally settled. He wasn’t going to lose you, couldn’t lose you. Din had sworn to himself that he’d take care of you, it was all he knew how to do, and he wasn’t going to stop for the sake of anyone.

Not even the sake of a world.

As Din carried you out of the building it occurred to him that he may be dooming an entire population of people. This world’s chances of survival were dropping from 65% to 0%. He knew that he should care. He knew that this information should bother him. That it should make his steps more hesitant and make his chest ache in indecision, but it didn’t. His choice had never been more clear to him. It was either this world or you. Din was choosing you. He’d always choose you.

When back on the ship, Din had only carried you a few steps when gasping could be heard. He turned around to see Dr. Pershing at the end of the ramp holding a blaster at him. The man was breathing hard, face red, as if he had sprinted all the way here to stop this from happening. Din had to admire his dedication. The man believed in this cause so much he was willing to go head to head with a Mandalorian who had just single handedly cleared out a medical facility.

“I can’t let you do this.” Dr. Pershing snapped. “You’re dooming this world if you take her!”

A blaster fired. Dr. Pershing stumbled back, a hole in his chest, and Din held his blaster firm in his hand. Your legs draped over that arm had hidden his weapon well. A strangled gasp left the man’s lips and he collapsed into a motionless pile. Din shook his head, responding to a dead man’s words, “I don’t care.”

Din would protect you under any and all circumstances.

Was that love?

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin #sort of #if you squint #the last of us #joel miller inspired #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #female reader #reader insert

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multiplicity-positivity · 20 days

Text

Living with the Haters

Hey folks - we had made a post not long after the influx of TikTokers came over with our thoughts on the situation and some advice and encouragement. In that post, we mentioned that they would probably get bored and leave. We still think this could happen, but as time goes on and they dig their claws in, it seems more and more likely that they might be here to stay. So here’s our thoughts on things as they are now and how we can work together to keep our community safe.

1. Do Not engage with them!

We’ve seen that a lot of these users are gaining traction and having a hearty laugh due to others sending them asks inciting violence, calling them out, or begging them to change.

Let us say right now that sending someone threats or suicide bait is NEVER okay, no matter how bad of a person you think they are. No exceptions. It’s not good to try and build ourselves up by tearing others down. Not only will this tactic just not work, it will only inspire these folks to be bolder, brasher, and more unkind. Hate from others does not inspire change - it only strengthens resolve.

So please, refrain from sending hate to any anti-endo posting in the #pluralgang tag! Give these people the attention they deserve - absolutely none at all!

2. Keep yourself safe and BLOCK!

Someone posting in the tags wishing violence on endos? Block!

Someone making cutesy “endos you’re not real and will never be valid uwu” posts? Block!

Someone posting in our tags “Why I think endos aren’t real/Why endos are harmful”? Block!

Someone making fun of endos, plurals, our community, and the labels we’ve coined to describe our experiences? Block!

Someone angrily slinging slurs in our tags? Block!

Someone crossposting their posts with plural inclusive tags (#pluralgang, #actually plural, etc) and also endo hate tags (#endos fuck off, #anti endo, #kys endos, etc)? Block!

Block anyone who makes you uncomfortable! Block anyone who denies you the right to define your own experiences in language that works best for you and your system! Block anyone who uses our inclusive tags to spread hateful ideas! Block liberally, block without remorse!

If you have any sideblogs, make sure to block these users from those blogs so that they cannot access any of your posts! Blocking a user from your main will not keep that user from viewing your other blogs. You can block on a sideblog through your Account Settings on Tumblr desktop version - reach out if you need any help with this!

3. Stay positive and active in our tags!

Don’t stop using #pluralgang and other inclusive tags because they’re getting overrun with TikTokers. Keep using them! In fact, use them even more! Post positivity, gush about your system, have discussions and conversations about plurality, post art, post poetry and personal experiences, just keep posting! We can reclaim our tags if we work together to fill them with posts that spread warmth, kindness, and earnest experiences. Make plural prompts! Ask questions! Post doodles! Take part in ask games! Make shoutouts for your headmates! Be your most authentic self, and don’t be ashamed for loudly and boldly being who you are!

In conclusion:

As more and more users block those who are spreading hate, they’ll find they have less and less content to hate on and interact with. They’ll be posting only for each other, and it won’t be as fun for them because there won’t be anyone to offend and trigger. This is what we’re aiming for!

And in the mean time, we can celebrate plurality how we choose! We can boost each other and lift each other up while simultaneously ignoring and avoiding those who seek to drag us down. Let’s work together to keep the plural community on Tumblr a beautiful, vibrant, and uplifting space!

Thank you so much for reading this! Stay safe out there, and take care!

#plurality #pluralgang #actually plural #endogenic #endo safe #endo friendly #pro endo #violence #threats #suicide #suicide baiting

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areislol · 1 year

Text

Courtship, what a show off.

ft— neteyam, side char. will be mentioned in tags warnings— fem. human! reader, aged up characters(19), they've been crushing on each other since FOREVER, neteyam being all cute, just fluff, him showing off his skills. y/n gets impressed easily :)), wee mention of lo'ak x reader? a/n— that image of him makes me want to burst, he's just so... ethereal. anyways, i hope you all enjoy this!

wordcount. 2.5k

song rec: september - sparky deathcap(dreamy ver.) + something about you

navigation | read on ao3 | next »

Neteyam draws out his arrow, his stance is tall and full of pride, his chest is puffed out and remains like that when he releases the arrow, it swiftly hits the fish—causing it to splash and thrash around the water. Neteyam turns around while smiling proudly, his eyes scanning your face to see any signs of proudness and to his satisfaction, you do. Your hands clasp together as your gaze shifts from the fish to the now proud Neteyam with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. He awaits your praise, he waits to hear your lovely voice congratulate him—and as always, you do. "That. was. amazing, Neteyam! you gotta teach me how to shoot just like you!" you beam, moving closer to where the fish was flopping around. Neteyam watches as you move closer to the small pond before crouching down to take a closer look at the fish, "of course" he replies, trailing behind you and crouching down as well to grab the flailing fish. He takes the arrow out of its body before admiring it, it was a pretty big fish, and it would taste amazing once cooked. He stops once he hears your laughter, he turns his head around to see you looking at him before looking at the fish, a small smile adorned your face as soft giggles escape your mouth. Neteyam's brow raised, wanting to know why you were laughing. "That's a pretty big fish.. I'm surprised you managed to catch it," you mutter, Neteyam stares at you, did you doubt his skills? "Well of course I caught it, are you doubting me?" he huffs before sliding the fish into a slim basket on his hip. You shake your head, "no way- who could ever doubt you? it just seems that you're getting better at hunting every day, which is a good thing. Oh, and its eyes look funny" you state, before getting up and sighing. He hums in response, standing up as well. Neteyam started to walk further into the forest with you following right by his side. As you two arrive at the village you're immediately being embraced by Tuk, her hug being tight and suffocating. Neteyam turns around to see his youngest sister clutching herself close to you, a gentle smile making its way to his face. You could see a big and bright smile on Tuk’s face, and when she finally opens her eyes, she hugs you even tighter while swaying side to side, "I've missed you so so much y/n! lo'ak, kiri and spider were arguing the entire time! it was soooo boring without you!" she explains before sighing dramatically.

You chuckle lightly before giving her a light pat on her back, "I missed you too Tuk" you replied, giving her a hug in return. When you look back up your eyes immediately lock with Neteyam's. You give him a small and sheepish smile before looking away, both of you feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks. Before anyone could say or do anything, Jake caught sight of his oldest son, "Neteyam! caught something yet?" he yells, his head poking out of his hut. Both you and Neteyam, along with Tuk turn your heads to face Jake, Neteyam nods his head to which Jake smiles at—"great! cause we need something to eat, now come! you too, Tuk!" he shouts before going back to whatever he was doing. Suddenly Lo’ak pokes his head out of the hut as well and spots you, and give you a smile which you quickly returned, but before he could say or do anything his tail was yanked by Spider. He looked directly at him and hissed before disappearing back into the hut.

Tuk groans, "awh, sorry y/n! come back tomorrow, okay?" she says, letting go of your body before running to her parent's hut. Neteyam glances at you, you do the same, he sends you an apologetic look although he has done nothing wrong, "I'm so sorry y/n, we need to go now, oh-" he mutters before abruptly stopping, you cock your head to the side, wanting to know why he stopped talking.

"Want me to escort you to your place?" he offers, you shake your head, "no it's fine neteyam, go with your family now, i'll come back tomorrow though." you answered politely with a smile, Neteyam nods his head reluctantly, waving goodbye to you as you did the same, you see him running over to his family’s hurt before completely disappearing from your view.

Stepping into your lab you're greeted by Max who's sitting at a desk, typing on his computer. You give him a small nod to acknowledge his greeting. You hang your jacket up before walking over to your room, "what’s up, kid?" Max questions, his back turned to his computer. You peek your head out of your room before answering, "I'm tired, going to take a nap." satisfied with your response he turns away and continues to type.

You lay down on your bed, thinking about your day with Neteyam, how he shot that arrow shot straight through the fish like it was no big deal, how he looked strong and mighty. His chest puffed out and his stance, oh god his stance. The way he smiled at you.. he had always smiled at you so tenderly, and it never failed to make your heart flutter. Sighing, you put yourself in a much better and comfortable position, looking out of your window that showed the many large trees with vines stringing from one to another, the colorful leaves and shrubs, the ray of lights shining into the dark and shady forest which illuminated it. Before you knew it, you were hit with drowsiness.

You slept peacefully and without disturbance, but it didn’t last long as you were woken up by Max who shook your shoulders lightly, "wake up kid, breakfast is almost ready," he whispers, his hands leaving your shoulders as he backs away, you groan and roll onto your side, pulling the covers over your head. Max rolls his eyes before yanking the blanket off of you, causing you to huff in annoyance and flop over to face Max, you glare at him for a few seconds before talking, "'kay, I'm up, shoo!" you say, your voice slightly hoarse and weak from sleep. Max raises his brow and purses his lips before getting up and walking out of your room. Sitting up you rubbed your eyes and yawn. After sitting down on your bed for a few minutes, you finally decided to get up and start your day. Standing up you turn around to your bed and stare. You eye the bed, thinking about whether or not you should make it. Groaning you start to fluff your pillows before setting the blanket down neatly. Once you're done you grab your clothes for the day before making your way to the shower. You made sure to wash yourself with a sweet smelling body wash as usual, you dont want to stink at all or, worse, have Neteyam think of you as filthy. After taking a shower and putting on your clothes you made your way to the main lab room where you greeted the scientists. "Mornin' everybody" you greet with a low voice, "morning y/n.." they all responded simultaneously, some were grumbly and incoherent while some were loud and clear. Walking over to another room you spot Max and walked over to him, you poked his arm which caught his attention, "where's norm?" you question while looking around to see if you could spot him but there was no sign of him at all. Max hums, still typing on his computer before stopping and spinning around on his chair, "nope, haven't seen him all morning.. well anyways help yourself with some toast over there" he offers, pointing to your right, you follow where his fingers point and see some toast, butter, sprinkles and some coffee laid out on the table. You immediately thanked him and walked over to where the meal was as soon as your eyes caught sight of it. You took a seat in a chair and began to eat. Once you were done, you wipe your hands clean before getting up and grabbing your backpack from the pile of bags on the floor . "Where you going, kid?" Max asked, his gaze now on you with his brows raised. You didn't maintain eye contact with him though, still putting your shoes on and grabbing your oxygen mask, "going out to see Neteyam" you say now looking at Max with a bright smile, he gives you a look before returning to his computer, typing away. After you were done getting everything you needed you opened the door and closed it behind you, the warm breeze immediately hit your skin which made you smile from the warmness. Can't wait to see neteyam! you thought before happily skipping into the forest with Max staring outside the window, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "They are so obsessed with each other."

"Tuk! sit down!" Neytiri said while ushering her daughter to where the rest of the family sat, Tuk happily sat in between Kiri and Jake who sat next to Neteyam with Neytiri sitting next to Lo'ak. Kiri was already eating some of the fruits that was laid out in the middle of them, Neteyam shot Kiri a look that yelled "don't eat yet until everyone is sitting down" but she disregards him, sticking her tongue out at him before continuing to and continued to take bites into her fruit while side-eyeing Neteyam. Once everyone had seated themselves, they all start to eat their breakfast, Tuk was playing with her food with Lo'ak joining in with his younger sister which caused Neytiri to hiss at them, "stop playing with your food!", she didn't have to tell them twice as lo'ak quickly ate his food while tuk on the other hand was hesitant to. Neteyam was silent while he ate, his mind preoccupied with you. He wanted to see you as soon as possible so he hurriedly ate his food before getting up and leaving in a hurry, but he was stopped by both Jake and Neytiri, "where are you going?" they both asked simultaneously. "Just going to see someone.." he mumbled, now stopping in his tracks while turning around to face his parents. Jake raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything, "'someone' my ass" Lo'ak scoffs while rolling his eyes which caused Neytiri to glare at Lo’ak. Tuk looked at Lo’ak while eating her food, and she notices how he was frowning for no reason. Kiri noticed this as well and leaned towards Tuk, “it’s probably about y/n or something..” she whispered, Tuk disregarded Kiri’s assumption until she hears y/n’s name. Tuk begins smiling at the thought of seeing y/n. Both Neytiri and Jake looked at each other, they seemed to have a silent conversation, and after a few seconds Neytiri stood up and walked close to Neteyam, "Neteyam, we need to talk about something.", he stood there and nodded before trailing behind his mother. They weren't far away from their hut and there weren't any other people around them, it was the perfect place. "What is it, mother?" Neteyam questioned, Neytiri looked up at her son, her boy has grown so tall. She shakes her head lightly and spoke up, "Neteyam, your father and i have been thinking that it is time you find your mate.". Neytiri notices how Neteyam frowns, his ears tucking back after she speaks, but this was a serious matter. "You are the future Olo'eyktan. It has been very long, and you still do not have a mate!" Neytiri whisper-yells, not wanting anyone else to hear their private conversation. Neteyam sighs—his head downcast, "I know mother.. but- well, I do… have a mate in mind." He had no idea why he said what he said, but he did. You weren't na'vi. You couldn't bond like every na'vi could, which meant that you two could never be mates for life, no matter how much he wanted to. The only way he and everybody on Pandora knew how to be with one forever was to bond, tsaheylu. There was absolutely no way to bond with you. His mother despised the sky-people, or to them, demons. If he ever told his mother that you were a sky-person or if she found out all hell would break loose. Upon hearing Neteyam's statement her eyes lit up, eager to know who he had in mind, "oh? and who is that?" she asks, a faint smile now adorned her face. "I will not say, it is a… surprise.", Neytiri hums and nods with a now fully visible smile on her face, "very well then, but I suggest you court her now before it is too late," she states with a smirk, Neteyam's face starts to warm from his mother's words which only causes Neytiri to chuckle before walking back to their hut. Neteyam was left there, standing awkwardly as the words replayed in his mind, but I suggest you court her now before it is too late. Before he knew it seconds have passed, he shook his head to snap out of his trance when he realized—he was going to be late.

Neteyam hurriedly looked around to remember where he going to meet up with you and once he saw the trail he immediately ran and followed the trail along with the scent of the site. Hopefully he wasn't that late. Not too long after running he stopped a few feet away from the site, standing near the trees as he looked around in hopes of seeing you and he didnt, maybe he was early? Maybe he was late and you left him and went somewhere else? But after scanning the area again, he sees you. When his eyes catch sight of you, a bright and tender smile adorns his face, there you are. You were leaning on a large tree, your head looking up before looking down and drawing. Not even two steps in and you already spotted him, "hey Neteyam! What took you so long?" you yelled while gesturing to him to pick up the pace. He wastes no time and jogs to where you stood, once he's right beside you he looks down. Neteyam looks down at your sketches of the forest in front of you. It looked pretty good, to say the least. "You're good at drawing y/n" he murmurs, prompting you look up at him with a warm smile, "thank you, 'teyam". His nickname rolling off your tongue was pure bliss, he had never wanted to hear his name so badly before. He doesn’t even realize his tail flicking side to side in excitement. The click of your bag derails him from his train of thought, his ears perking up attentively, his tail stopping its movement. Neteyam sees you putting your notepad and pencils away before closing the bag. "So..." you start, "where do you wanna go now?", Neteyam ponders for a second, instead of thinking of a place he could show you, his mother's words interrupt his thoughts. Court her now, before it is too late. Neteyam hums in delight, "well..", yes, he would from now, start courting you, in the hopes of you becoming his mate, even if you were a sky-person. "How about you watch me hunt?" he offers, Neteyam watches as a gentle smile adorned your face, "sure!" And with that, Neteyam’s attempt of courting you, begins.

note: if you would like to be added to the avatar taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy

taglist: @tomansimp, @howlandhaku, @luciphyls, @vizkiz869, @aonungobsession, @pandorainmymind, @luvlykrispy, @hinataashoyos, @sleepyharuka, @httpjiikook, @kawaistrawberry21, @sometimesminsan, @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this, @glitterandgoldfinds

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!

another note: omg not me making ANOTHER series??? i haven’t made one in... months... but yay! another one, hopefully i stick to it cause, i really don’t want to let go of this. ALSO!!! this was inspired by @hinataashoyos!! so go check out her tsu’tey x fem. human! reader fic, it is ABSOLUTELY amazing. SPECIAL THANKS. to @hinataashoyos for allowing me to use this idea and SPECIAL THANKS. to @txelanneteyam for helping me proof-read and help me with this fic!! i deeply appreciate you for helping me/supporting me :)

more about @hinataashoyos and the image header in my navi.

#neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar series #neteyam #kiri #tuk #lo'ak #neytiri #jake

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emepe · 9 days

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A perfect morning with the perfect guy with plans for the perfect life together.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, mention of unprotected sex.

— Notes: Welcome back to TV Friday! Please read the notes at the end for an important notice. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

the thing about perfection

Eren Jaeger has always had a perfect life. He was born to two loving parents with high-paying jobs that provided him with a lovely home, delicious food, fun trips, and any education he craved.

He had the perfect mix of genes, too. He grew up to be handsome, smart, and kind. He bagged a job he loved straight out of graduating and his parents helped him get his first apartment, one that others could only dream of living in had they not been born into a life of penny-pinching.

Everything was laid out for him to take as he pleased. It's a good thing he was never overly ambitious.

The only time things were rough was when his father passed, but even then he coped in healthy ways and barely felt the stumble, thanks to his loving mother and tight-knit friends.

Everything had always been perfect, even now as he wakes up in his spacious apartment, to the sleeping face of his beautiful girlfriend, who only has a few minutes before her alarm begs her to wake.

“Good morning, baby,” he murmurs when you start stirring under the sheets at the first ring of your alarm.

He smiles when your hold on his waist only tightens, his daily reminder of how much you struggle with being pulled away from his perfect, warm self. He chuckles softly, granting you your usual ten minutes of extra bed time as his hand gently massages your scalp and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

When you finally look up at him, you're wearing a lazy smile, that beautiful lazy smile that only makes him fall deeper in love and drives his heart into a craze.

He kisses you once, twice, then again, and again, and again. Until soon enough, you're fully naked under the sheets, making love and voicing each other's names in breathless saccharine tones.

It's enough to make you run a few minutes behind on your schedule. But it doesn't matter, you figure you can be late to work at least once. So while Eren heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast after wiping you clean of his cum, you get changed and take your daily pill.

“What's all this?” you ask once you take a seat at the bar.

There's a spread of fruit, pancakes, hash browns, eggs, bacon, bread and jams. It's a lot, even for the two of you.

He shrugs.

“I just wanna make this day special from start to finish.”

You give him a weird look as you slowly chew on a strawberry.

“What?” he innocently asks. “Five months is a big deal to me.”

You smile.

“Every month is a big deal to you,” you tease.

He laughs.

“Okay, fine. Make fun of me all you want. But can you blame me?” he asks as he rounds the bar. You instinctively let him settle between your thighs, ignoring the creases it inflicts on the skirt of your dress. “I'm a man in love.”

You giggle as he brushes his nose against yours and he mirrors your smile before pressing his lips to yours.

“You're so cheesy,” you grin as he pulls back.

“Maybe so, but you're never getting rid of me.”

You laugh as you help yourself to a hash brown.

“I never said I wanted to.”

You take a bite of your hash brown, your face instantly lighting up at the crispy texture and flavor. You give Eren an enthusiastic thumbs-up before sampling everything in front of you.

Eren adores watching you. It fills a cavity in his chest he hadn't known was there until he met you, and it swells him with pride to know he's had a hand in making you happy.

His smile slowly fades into a more serious expression as he watches your delighted reactions to the scrambled eggs cooked to perfection.

He brings a hand to your hair, playing with the locks between two fingers.

“I'm so fucking in love with you,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” you smile.

He nods as you turn to him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

“No doubt about it. I'm crazy about you.”

“How much?” you tease.

He pecks the corner of your mouth.

“I'd die for you.”

Your life has never been perfect. You were born into a broken home with a father who wiped his memory of your existence and a mother who would've preferred you'd never been at all. You struggled and suffered, hurt and stumbled many times. You were deceived and tossed away, beaten in more ways than one by life and the people in it.

The only times things were alright have no place in your memory, except for those that happened after meeting your friends and the first real love of your life in your mid-twenties. A bit of a late start for good things to occur in your life, but well appreciated.

Now, everything is perfect — as perfect as it's ever gotten for you. Your perfect boyfriend holds your hand as he expertly switches lanes and cruises down the highway to take you to your steady job where you get to gossip with your best friend.

The universe can have favorites sometimes, and it's clear to you that Eren is one of them, as he manages to catch every green light on the way to your office building to get you on time.

It's a popular theory that you attract what you need, so perhaps it's a good thing you found Eren. It's thanks to him that you get to stand in the glow of his good fortune.

The late March air is crisp and fresh on your face, complemented by the warmth and sweet smell of spring that swoops in through the open windows of Eren's car.

When he pulls up to your office, you bid him goodbye with a kiss and a promise to see each other that evening to celebrate your five months together over dinner.

“And I have a surprise for you,” he murmurs against your lips, causing you to pull back and raise a suspicious eyebrow. “Well, it's more like news, and of course, I want your opinion, but…” he trails off with a shrug.

“Are you pregnant or something?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No, not that. But it's really good stuff. You'll love it, I swear.”

You hum in contemplation before pressing a kiss to his cheek and hooking your bag in the crook of your elbow.

“I'll see you later, then. I love you.”

He smiles as he watches you get out of the car and shut the door.

“I love you. I'll be back at six.”

He spares a moment to watch you leave, waving goodbye when you look back after walking a few steps, as you always do, with a big smile on your face and your eyes crinkled in joy.

After you disappear through the revolving doors, he leaves.

The coffee shop is quieter than usual as the early afternoon weather wavers between cool and warm, making loyal customers debate between picking from the cold menu or the hot one.

You sip on your iced tea enthusiastically, much so that Armin watches you with amusement through the long pauses in your conversation for you to satiate your thirst.

“Oh, wow,” you sigh after finishing off your drink with a loud slurp. “That's the best iced tea I've ever had.”

You feel the tea refreshing your stomach as you lean back into your chair.

“I can tell,” Armin chuckles as he stirs the ice of his coffee with the straw.

“What were you saying?” you ask, simultaneously trying to recall where your conversation left off.

“We were talking about your plans for tonight. Congratulations on your five months, by the way.”

You smile appreciatively.

“Oh, right. And thank you. Eren's making dinner for me and, apparently, he has some news to share that he wants my opinion on.”

“Sounds fishy,” Armin murmurs, to which you giggle.

“He said it's good,” you reply with a shrug. “I'm excited either way.”

“I can see that, too,” Armin smiles. “You're practically glowing.”

Your face warms as a nervous giggle sputters from your lips.

“It's just… gosh, he's so great.”

You smile to yourself, your happy expression finding itself mirrored across Armin's features, as well.

“Would it be cheesy if I tell you how in love I am?”

“It'd be cruel considering I don't have a girlfriend of my own to be cheesy about,” Armin mutters with feigned annoyance.

“Aw,” you pout. “So much for being Cupid.”

He laughs.

“I know, right?”

“Don't worry, you'll find someone.”

“That's what people who date always tell their single friends so they don't kill themselves,” he deadpans, to which you laugh in return.

He sighs dramatically.

“It's my own fault for focusing my romantic abilities on getting other people together. I could've been married by now.”

A sympathetic smile finds its way to your face.

“Well, you're a total catch. Maybe you'll meet someone at the big Jeankasa wedding.”

His face lights up with renewed optimism.

“Or yours and Eren's, even.”

He grins slyly when he notices your efforts to suppress a smile.

“Oh, I don't know if we're there yet. There's still a lot more to experience, I think.”

Armin's brow furrows slightly.

If there's one thing he knows about his best friend, it's that he's not one to date for fun. And considering how adamant you were about not getting involved with someone, to now being the most thrilled when it comes to the mere mention of Eren's name, it's hard to imagine formalities haven't been discussed.

“You guys haven't talked about it?”

You shrug.

“A couple times,” you bashfully reply. “I mean, not a wedding, specifically. Just… the future, you know? Moving in together has been on the table before. I try not to get too excited but… it's hard. And I don't really want to picture myself with anyone else. They just wouldn't compare to him.”

Armin nods, his lips perked into a small smile at your shyness as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I guess,” you murmur pensively. Armin lowers his glass and raises his eyebrows in attention. “If Eren wants to… I'd say yes to anything.”

The walk back to the office is littered with jokes and cheerful banter, as well as the usual bitter remarks from having to return to work.

But it's odd. It's been a while since you've felt genuine dread for anything. It's as if the past few months have converted you into a more accurate portrait of the girl with a colorful apartment, and you're almost certain you can pinpoint the start of these refreshing times. It's been about five months.

Armin treads to his side of the floor once outside of the elevator, raising his palm as a goodbye before turning on his heel.

You smile to yourself as you head back to your desk, quietly humming a cheerful tune without any real structure.

It's not until a coworker sitting at their cubicle a few feet away opens the Tupperware container to have lunch at their desk while continuing to juggle their workload that the light drains from your face.

The smell of their food wafts in your direction, spurring an unpleasant feeling that bubbles from your stomach and crawls up your throat.

Strange, you think.

It's not as if there are rotten tones to your coworker’s lunch, or that it's especially pungent, and yet you're having a hard time trying to ignore it.

You stand from your desk, walking with as much composure as you can manage to the restroom. But once you're in the privacy of a stall, you've no power to stop your stomach from turning inside out.

“Now, just cover with the lid and let it simmer,” Carla's voice echoes in the kitchen from where Eren's phone is propped against the toaster.

“Should I do the asparagus next?” Eren calls out as he follows his mother's instructions for her bolognese recipe.

He could've easily looked one up on the internet, but he's been adamant about using the exact recipes for your favorite dishes from the time you've been together, or at least the best he can manage to recreate on his own. Perhaps he was going a bit overboard, but it's not like he cares. Five might not seem as much of a milestone as other numbers, and it's true Eren made a big deal of every month you've spent together, but this one had to be perfect.

At the risk of having time claw at his feet, he left the grocery shopping for this morning, so you couldn't figure out his plans. He made sure to carefully stash the evidence of his big surprise; wiped the relevant search history on his computer, and tucked the pictures and messages with the real estate agent behind a code.

He's been sneaking looks at the photos all day. An apartment that perfectly matches the cozy vibes from your place and the space and luxury from his. A place he can clearly imagine being decorated with pastel colors, ceramic figurines, books, and hand-made blankets with little effort.

He knows you'll say yes this time, and he knows you'll be especially thrilled to find out he found the perfect pink bathtub to switch out the plain white ceramic one that comes with the place he's been secretly viewing for two weeks.

Living with you has been on his mind for months. It wasn't until he found the very apartment he's planning to show you in a few hours that he felt overwhelmed with relief — as if things were falling into place. His willpower has been working overtime to make sure he doesn't jump the gun before tonight. And yet he couldn't help from acting extra giddy for the past two weeks. It's a miracle you haven't caught on.

“I think you can leave those until the end. Those are done in twenty, hon.”

Eren nods along to his mother's instructions as he tackles on another load of dirty dishes. He glances at the time on his screen while scrubbing, exchanging a smile with Carla as he scrubs a pan.

“Did you see the photos I sent you?” Eren grins.

“The place is incredible,” Carla gushes. “She'll be over the moon.”

“Thanks for calling about the bathtub, by the way,” Eren blushes. Had it not been for Carla and her connections, he wouldn't have gotten his hands on the last standing unit of the discontinued pink bathtub model from the poolhouse.

“No problem, hon. Keith owed me one.”

She watches her son as he gingerly stacks a pot on the drying rack beside him before patting his hands dry with a tea towel.

“Can I see the ring?” Carla asks.

“What?”

Eren's eyes widen, though it's hard to tell if it's in surprise or confusion. His reaction causes Carla to nervously laugh.

“You're proposing, right?” she asks, though her voice wavers the slightest bit, reflecting her nerves from possibly speaking out of line.

In any case, Eren is always open to share parts of his life with his mother, but she's never been one to speak out on her suspicions first, always granting him the opportunity to come forward on his own.

Eren knows how much Carla adores you. Their weekly call time has been sliced by half to chat with you, too. So perhaps it's her excitement over Eren's meticulous planning for a special night with the girl he's called the first real love of his life that's driven her to imagine bigger plans behind the scenes.

He knows his mother well, so he can only shyly laugh at her assumptions before clarifying.

“I'm not proposing yet, mom. I'm just asking her to move in with me,” he smiles.

Carla could've reacted in embarrassment had her ears not zeroed in on the word ‘yet’.

So she only nods, her mouth forming an ‘ah’ shape.

“Okay, okay. I get it now. My god, I thought tonight was the night… but not tonight… not yet… I see.”

She slyly eyes Eren through the screen, to which he sputters an embarrassed laugh.

“Mom,” he partially whines.

The corners of her eyes crinkle in amusement.

“Oh, come on! She's an amazing girl and anyone can see how much you love each other. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.”

She narrows her eyes, prepared to scold him if he says anything that doesn't align with her wish to have you join the family.

“We've talked about… stuff.” Eren blushes profusely at the end, which only causes Carla's giddiness to skyrocket. Her image on the screen is more of a girl friend squealing over crushes than that of a mother conversing with her son.

“Mom,” Eren whines again, though his lips curve into a grin. “Relax. We've got a long way to go. Moving in is just… it makes sense for us, right now.” He smiles. “And we're taking things slow, okay? Give me a few more months and I'll call you from Vegas.”

“Eren Jaeger, if you elope, I swear–”

She's cut off by Eren's laughter.

“Relax,” he repeats, holding his hands up in defense as if Carla could slap him through the screen. “But to keep you at ease… it's in our plans. Just give us time.”

It's been seven minutes since you've stepped back into your office building, and ten since you stepped out of it the first time, only to not spot Eren's car waiting for you.

It's unlike him to be late unless he's behind on work. But as far as you know, he asked for a couple days off, so it wouldn't make sense to say that's it.

The building is empty, save for the security guard who's doing a final sweep of the floors before locking up. It's only a matter of minutes before they return to find you back inside the lobby.

You pull out your phone from your jacket pocket. No missed calls, no new messages.

It's been twelve minutes now.

You press the call button beside Eren's name and press the phone to your ear.

The line is busy.

Frowning, you try again.

He picks up on the first ring. A breath of relief escapes your lips when you hear his voice.

“I know, I know. I lost track of time. I'm on my way, don't worry,” Eren's strained voice comes through your phone's speaker as you can only assume he's rushing around his apartment in search of his essentials for going out.

You smile sympathetically as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. With a quick glance at the time, and seeing that the security guard is already stepping into the lobby once more, twirling the keys around on finger, you decide to relieve Eren of his self-imposed duty.

“Relax, it's okay. Just stay there, I'll take the bus,” you reply with nonchalance.

You sense a bit of hesitation on his end. On the other side of the line, Eren is torn between finishing up dinner or going to pick you up. He still hasn't showered, and it would break the flow of the evening if he disappeared to do so after bringing you home to the spread he's so close to completing. The oven timer still has a handful of minutes to go and it's messing with his rationality.

“Eren?”

Your voice grounds him.

“I can be there in fifteen. I just gotta… um… finish something here and…”

You smile. He can't see it, but he hears it in your voice when you reply.

“It's fine, really. I can catch the next bus,” you reassure him, glancing at your watch and mentally calculating the minutes you have to reach the bus stop. “Just stay there.”

A few seconds go by before Eren speaks again, still in limbo for his decision.

“You got your taser on you?”

You smile, already knowing he would ask that, and you pat the device over your jacket pocket as if he could see you.

“Of course.”

He sighs, but gives in.

“Okay, but call me when you're close, yeah?”

You agree as you begin walking in direction to the bus stop.

Your hand fiddles nervously with the strap of your bag as you hear more rustling on his end, likely made by his jacket which you can imagine being thrown back onto the sofa before he returns to whatever it was that kept him busy before your call.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember this morning? When you said you had news?”

You can hear Eren's smile in his hummed reply as a timer goes off faintly in the background, which he hurries to stop. The beeping ceases and you giggle to yourself as you start to piece together what's going on.

You decide to play the oblivious card anyway as you finish walking the first of four blocks to the bus stop.

“Sorry,” Eren murmurs. “You were saying?”

A fluttering sensation stirs in your stomach as you take a deep breath. Your voice comes out as soft as always, but with a tinge of shyness that only Eren can pick up on.

“Just… I have something I want to tell you, too.”

Eren doesn't know why, but your measured words cause his entire body to warm.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, gently chewing on your bottom lip as you hug your jacket tighter around your stomach. “I'll tell you when I get there okay?”

He smiles.

“Okay.”

“I love you. I really, really love you, Eren Jaeger.”

An airy laugh comes through the speaker as he voices your full name in the same loving manner.

“I love you more. I really, really love you.”

“I'll see you soon.”

It's been fifteen minutes since Eren got out of the shower, twenty-five since he finished fixing dinner, and thirty-three since your call ended.

You should be walking through the door any minute.

Eren lights the candles at the center of the table, humming a nonsensical tune to himself as his giddiness only amplifies and he can practically hear you jiggling your key in the door, swinging it open to his carefully crafted romantic view.

There's a low, square gift box at your end of the table, tied with a satin ribbon, guarding print copies of the photos from an apartment you'll meet the next day. He can picture you looking up at him in confusion and he'll be wearing the biggest smile on his face and the sweatiest hands when he asks you to live together.

He sits down, pulling out his phone to swipe through the copies of the photos on his phone one last time. With each picture of an empty space, he can vividly imagine where your books would go, where he'll place the sofa that he'll tackle you with kisses on, the kitchen where you'll watch him cook and he'll watch you bake, the window where you'll sit, curled into a blanket in the winter with a mug of tea nursed in your hands.

His heart beats erratically at his own imagination.

He taps on his messages, checking for any indication that you might be close. But perhaps it's better if you don't get distracted by texting or calling him. And it makes for the most pleasant butterflies to stir even wilder in his stomach at the anticipation.

He sets his phone down, tapping anxiously on the table.

Any minute, you'll be there. Any minute, you'll see the photos. Any minute, he'll kiss you and tell you how much he loves you. Any minute, you'll be over the moon, jumping up to join his daydreams on how to fill the place you'll share. Any minute now, things will fall into place and life will be perfect.

Any minute now. Any minute.

On a relatively quiet alley, at the half point between an office building and a bus stop, where nobody has shown concern to surveil, a broken angel wing cast in silver lays on the ground.

It's too small and too far to catch the light from the street lamp on the main street, but it lies there, hidden in shadows, broken and dirty, its original perfectly crafted form lost forever.

But the thing about perfection is that it doesn’t truly exist.

Previous chapter | Next chapter (tba)

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Notes: Tunnel Vision will be going on a brief hiatus. If you are a strings fan thinking history is repeating itself, worry not! I WILL be coming back to this series in a couple weeks. I’m afraid I burned myself out by pumping out so many chapters in such a short time and I don’t want to half-ass this series. Tunnel Vision will be back! I’ll add a tba date to the chapter guide once I start writing for this series again. In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box :)

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taglist: @erenjaegerwifee @youatemylollipop @okaystopwhore @bakuhoethotski @f4irygard3n @saybeyonce @indeedbooks15

#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #snk x reader #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jaeger x you

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camaro-and-smokes · 8 days

Text

Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car

Chapter 6: Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad

Tags for the chapter: Mutual pining, some fluffy fluff in the very end

Notes: Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜 Title from the Def Leppard song 💜

Summary: Billy finally catches Steve who's been slipping through his fingers all week and sits him down for a talk. Later, Billy unsuccesfully tries to let go of Steve, and Steve figures out what he needs to do—even though it scares the shit out of him.

Read on AO3 >>

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It was on Friday morning when Billy finally caught Steve—quite literally—before he left for work. Or rather, before he once again slithered himself through Billy’s fingers like quicksand.

Billy was reading an article about new materials used for surfboards when Steve appeared in the doorway.

“Uh…morning. Have you, um, have you seen my shoes?” Steve asked, rubbing his neck, clearly uncomfortable.

Billy looked up from his article and took a sip of his coffee. “Maybe.”

Steve looked at him expectantly for a moment before he spread his hands questioningly. “So? Where are they?”

“I think we have to talk,” Billy said.

Steve sighed and chewed his cheek for a moment. “About what?”

“About…” Billy started, not knowing how he exactly should continue. “Well, about…things. Like, this week.”

Steve closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“Just humor me, okay?” Billy asked and pointed at the empty mug on the table he’d taken out just for Steve. “Sit down for one mug of coffee. Please?”

Steve glanced at the front door as if calculating the distance to it from his spot and if he could reach it before Billy would catch him. Then he looked at his watch, wincing, but finally he relented. He sat down while Billy poured the coffee into the mug and gave him the milk from the fridge. “One mug,” he muttered.

“Alright, I’m gonna make this blunt, then,” Billy said as he sat down. “Are you angry at me about something?” He paused, measuring Steve and trying to see if there was something that would give away Steve’s emotions.

Steve just sat there, still clenching his jaw and staring at his mug.

“Like, for example, me going on a date and you thinking you have to find a new place to stay?” Billy continued.

Steve shifted in his seat, but kept his eyes locked on the beige liquid in his mug. “Uh…no. I’m not angry about…anything.”

“Good,” Billy said quietly. “Because you don’t have to worry about that. I’m really not planning on moving in with anyone soon.”

Steve just nodded. After a while, he asked, “Was the date that bad?”

Billy snickered. “No. It was okay.”

Just as Billy was about to continue, Steve asked, “Planning on seeing him again?”

Billy thought about it. Yeah, the date with Jason had been nice. It was nice to have the attention, someone laugh at his stupid jokes, and Jason was a decent guy. But he wasn’t…there was something that wasn’t just right. “Well, he said he’d like to see me again, but we didn’t yet agree on anything since he’s busy. Maybe,” he shrugged. Yeah. Jason just was…not Steve.

Steve felt like crying, but he just nodded and took a sip of his mug. He’d tried to avoid Billy all week just to save himself from hearing that maybe. He was sure the guy was decent, Billy probably wouldn’t want to go on a second date with someone who wasn’t. Decency did nothing to Steve’s desire to kill the guy, though.

The few days that had passed since Billy’s date had been hard. Billy had seemed happy after the date. Singing in the shower that Def Leppard ballad that was on the radio 24/7—and also humming it while cooking.

Steve wanted to leave, get to work and forget this misery for at least the eight hours. But he’d promised to stay for one mug of coffee and he’d accidentally put too little milk on it so it was burning his mouth. So he had to suffer a little longer than he otherwise would’ve.

Billy cleared his throat. Steve was fidgeting, so maybe that was enough of that subject. Billy felt the tips of his ears burning when he tried to find words for the second thing he wanted to talk about. “Um…That wasn’t all I wanted to talk about.”

Steve took a sip of his coffee. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Uh…” Billy took a deep sigh. Better just to spit it out. “The re—red panties…”

Steve had to close his eyes. He felt his face heating, and it embarrassed him. He hoped Billy would take his reaction as just that, embarrassment, and not as anything else. Especially not as something that had launched an avalanche that was shaking his life inside out.

Billy looked at his own mug when felt his face burning so he didn’t see Steve’s reaction. “They’re, uh…they’re mine,” he stammered. “I, uh…I—I like to wear them. Sometimes. It’s a secret and…no one has known until now.” To Billy’s surprise, admitting it felt liberating instead of anything else.

Steve hid behind his mug and drank from it as much as he could, even though it burned his entire mouth, and he was sure he wouldn’t taste anything for a few days. He knew he should say something. Yeah, I figured. No problem, I really liked the idea, was what he wanted to say. “Uh…” he started, knowing he couldn’t say what he was thinking. Ever. This secret would die with him. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s OK. Not my business what you do in your room.”

Billy swallowed, glad that Steve took it like that. But he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, too. He’d been secretly hoping that maybe finding out such a delicate secret would’ve stirred something in Steve. Apparently it hadn’t, and instead, just made him embarrassed. “Yeah?”

Steve was nodding vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.”

Billy fidgeted with the ear of his mug. “Thanks,” he said. “Sorry you had to learn about it like that.”

Steve swallowed the rest of the coffee and set the mug on the table. He finally glanced up at Billy. A thought of getting up, leaning over the table and kissing Billy pierced his mind. A dream come true.

One he couldn’t have.

“Well, the mug is empty,” he said instead, getting up. He smiled a little. “So, any sign of the shoes?”

Billy looked up at Steve. “So, are we okay? I mean, really okay?”

Jesus, those eyes are blue, Steve thought. He could drown in them and would, too—happily. He found himself thinking that there was nothing he couldn’t forgive Billy. Clearing his throat, he nodded, his smile widening a little. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Billy nodded and got up. “Just a sec.” He went to his room and came back a moment later with Steve’s shoes.

“Do I have to worry about you stealing my shoes again?” Steve asked, with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Billy smiled and offered the shoes to Steve. “You kept slipping away in the mornings, coming home just to sleep and…I just really wanted to have this chat with you, ’s all.”

Their hands brushed against each other when Steve took the shoes from Billy. It sent a hot jolt through Steve, and he set the shoes quickly on the floor and tied the laces. He needed to get out before he did something stupid.

When Steve left, Billy walked by the sink and looked through the window at how Steve got into his car and drove away. Steve’s warm skin on Billy’s in the tiny point of contact where their hands had touched was still burning his hand. He’d wanted so much to drop the shoes and kiss Steve. He’d needed to.

The truth was, Jason had asked him for another date. But he’d lied to Jason he couldn’t, not this week. That he was busy with a restoration project of an old Mustang and that maybe next week he’d have time.

He squeezed his eyes closed. Why did he always have to make stupid choices? Listening to his heart had only ever brought him heartache. And he’d just recovered from one heartbreak, only to get into another one that would probably drag on even longer than the first. He’d be hanging on to something he couldn’t have as long as Steve would live with him, or at least as long as he didn’t find someone he would truly be interested in.

Maybe he had no other option but to make himself interested in Jason for real.

Steve hunched over piles of paperwork in his office, the clack of keyboards and murmur of co-workers creating a soft background noise that reached his office through the open door. He tried to push Billy out of his mind and keep himself concentrated on his work, and the sounds seemed to help him achieve that.

“Hey, did you catch the game last night?” Dave, one of Steve’s colleagues, asked with a smirk, leaning against the door frame.

Steve glanced up. “Missed it,” he confessed. He’d been at the office all night and hadn’t even remembered the office bet pool. “But let me guess—our team tanked again?”

“Like a lead balloon,” Dave snorted, pushing off from the door frame. “We should start betting on how much they lose by!”

A round of laughter erupted from a nearby cluster of desks, and Steve joined in, the corners of his lips upturning genuinely for the first time that morning.

His gaze meandered through the door and across the sea of beige cubicles, his mind pulling him back into the conversation with Billy.

So far, two things had made themselves known. One, Billy hadn’t agreed to go on a second date with the guy—yet—and two, he had admitted to liking feminine underwear. Not that Steve needed a confirmation on that anymore. But it was nice to know for sure. So, Billy was still free and nothing was yet written in stone.

He still had a chance, but he needed to act on it. He just had to come up with something that might reveal what Billy really thought of him. If he really had a shot. No matter the consequences.

Janet, the secretary of Steve’s boss, appeared in the doorway, popping Steve’s reverie like a soap bubble. “Hey, Steve. Your list for the new purchases for the meeting this afternoon…you sure it’s right? I mean, ‘The Scent of a Wow Man’ sounds thrilling, but…”

Steve looked up at her. “What? Oh, that’s not—”

“Or what about ‘Bad man returns’?” she continued with a smirk and gave the paper to Steve.

“Damn it,” Steve muttered under his breath, reaching out for the paper as he felt heat rising to his cheeks. “I’ll fix it,” he said as he hurried to correct the list.

“Well, movies in your mind as they should be, just a little…adult-themed, maybe,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Long week,” Steve admitted, trying to shrug it off, and rewrote the list by hand—careful not to let his thoughts wander to the last thing he’d seen of Billy in the morning: his sapphire eyes.

And then it came to him. He didn’t actually like the idea and what it required from him, but it was something he knew would get Billy’s attention for sure. Apparently, he was willing to leave his comfort zone for Billy.

The salty breeze from the Pacific ocean played with Billy’s hair as he sat across from Jason at lunch. All the way to work in the morning, he’d pondered the choices he could make and if he should take Jason’s invitation for another date. When he’d arrived at the garage, he’d called Jason first thing, wanting to stop the useless what-ifs for good.

Now they were sitting on the terrace of The Sand Dollar Cafe, a kitschy eatery by the beach, adorned with seashell wind chimes and driftwood art.

Jason was detailing his latest real estate conquest. “…and it was such a steal,” he said. “The view alone was worth—”

“Sounds killer,” Billy interjected, his mind drifting at the rhythm of the fish fillet he pushed around his plate.

“Uh, well, yes,” Jason said. He wiped the corners of his mouth into a cloth and reached out to Billy’s hand with his. “Everything alright? You look like your mind is…surfing on some distant waves.”

Billy looked up at Jason and forced a smile he didn’t feel on his face. “Oh, no, sorry. Just thinking about…work.”

“Right,” Jason replied, a hint of skepticism in his voice. He settled the cloth next to his plate and drank from his glass. “Speaking of which, how do you stay so clean while working on cars all day?”

“Oh, I just…” Billy started before he really, really heard the words. He frowned and looked down at the front of his shirt and his hands. He’d changed his clothes and checked himself in the mirror several times before leaving work to not have any oil or grease stains on him. Or did Jason actually make a derogatory comment about his job? For a moment, Billy had to hold back really hard not to say the first thing that came to his mind. He tilted his head as he looked up at Jason. “Ever heard of overalls?” he said tersely.

Jason raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “No need to get offended. I just wanted to know how the technicalities work. I have no firsthand experience, that’s all.”

“Right,” Billy said, biting his tongue. He didn’t yet know Jason that well, so maybe he shouldn’t get all worked up over something small like this. Maybe Jason was honestly interested in his work and sometimes just said things as he thought of them, without a filter. He did that sometimes, too.

Steve had left work the moment the afternoon meeting with his boss ended.

He knew a shop selling all the gear he’d need close to the bungalow, and that’s where he headed.

“Hey, Steve, my man!” Argyle, the shop owner—and one of Billy’s best surfer friends—greeted him from behind the counter. “Billy sent you to get that new wax he ordered?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly,” Steve said, looking at the rows of surf boards next to each other, lining the walls of the shop. “I’m here…uh, for…myself.”

Argyle’s face lit up, and he stood up and walked to Steve. “Alright! So, what do you need?”

Steve looked at him sheepishly.

Argyle squinted, measured Steve from head to toe, and then placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’ve never surfed in your life, have you?”

Steve shook his head slowly.

Argyle smiled a wide smile and patted Steve’s back. “Hey, no problem-o, man! Everyone gotta start somewhere.” The tall surfer turned around, looked around his shop for a moment, and started gathering the gear Steve would need. He talked while he sauntered around the shop, collecting everything. “So, Billy’s teaching you?”

“Um, well…I’m hop—I’m hoping he would.”

Argyle turned to look at Steve, who followed him like a lost puppy, and nodded, a wide smile apparently permanently plastered on his face. “He will. I was wondering when you’d get bitten by the surf bug. Billy can be enthusiastic about it.”

Steve laughed nervously. “To be honest, I’m terrified about the whole thing,” he confessed.

“Mmm, real. Trust me, you won’t look back after you do one clean wave,” Argyle said, sliding his hand in the air, imitating surfing on a wave. “After that, it’s just chasing the next one.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure about that,” Steve said, feeling his hands sweating just at the thought of riding a wave on a slick board.

Now that he was clearly doing this and not just thinking about it, it no longer sounded such a good idea. But it was the best one he could come up with. For a moment, he had thought of joining Billy’s aerobics class, but the guy who Billy went on a date with was there, so it wasn’t really an option.

And besides, surfing was Billy’s one true love. Sure, he loved fast cars and his beloved Camaro, but what he actually could do, and frequently did, was to spend all day on the waves and go back first thing in the next morning, day in and day out.

So, if he really wanted to get Billy’s attention, this would be the way.

Billy slammed the door of the Camaro closed after him and stomped to the front door of the bungalow. He’d gone to the late and long lunch hoping maybe Jason would’ve showed a side of himself that could’ve been worth pursuing.

Unfortunately, the opposite had appeared to be true. The guy hadn’t stopped talking about his work, his accomplishments, and how much money he’d made a year who knows how many years a row. Sure, money was nice, but it wasn’t what Billy was looking for.

He was annoyed at taking off half a day for only learning that he should’ve listened to the gut feeling he had already on the first date and never see Jason again.

Billy opened the front door and the moment he saw what was in the living room, Jason vanished from his mind.

Steve was standing in the middle of the living room wearing a full-body wet suit and leaning awkwardly to a blue and white surfboard.

“Yo, broski, wanna hit the waves?” Steve asked him, the slang not quite fitting into his mouth and making it sound stiff.

Billy couldn’t help but to laugh. “Well, my dude,” he replied, taking in the view and nodding approvingly. “I think you first have to learn how to.”

Steve smiled at Billy’s reaction; the blue eyes were sparkling and the smile on his face was wide and toothy and the laugh genuine. It was exactly what Steve had hoped for. “Well, I was thinking, if you have the time, I could take a lesson or two from the best.”

Billy couldn’t get his eyes off Steve. The guy had been adamant about not getting on the waves. Ever. But here he was, standing, in full gear, ready to go. A warm fuzziness filled Billy’s chest. Maybe there was a chance with Steve after all.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #billy x steve #steve x billy #mutual pining #fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #suometar writes

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 7 months

Text

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 12

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, angst

Word Count: ~1800

A/N: It's time for Mega Angst, which means we have 2 more chapters to go until our resolution!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

"Hey, Ellison is looking for you," Skyler said on Friday morning. "He said he wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh, okay, thanks," you replied.

Skyler eyed you. "Still haven't heard from Chef Hottie?"

You shook your head. "Nope. I tried texting Matt yesterday just to let him know that I'd be emailing a copy of my article to him after Ellison approved it and never got a response."

Skyler frowned. "Well that's shitty."

"Told you he'd ditch you as soon as it was all over," Kelsie said as she walked up. "Although I'm surprised he didn't at least wait until your article came out."

She let out a snide laugh. "He must've really not been into you."

Your heart twisted. After rehashing the events of your blind tasting with Skyler on Tuesday you had allowed yourself a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe , Matt had been genuine with you, but once again Kelsie had come along to squash it.

You swallowed and shook your head. "It really doesn't matter what Chef Murdock thinks of me personally. I'm still going to write the truth about him."

"And that's why you'll be stuck writing puff pieces your entire career." Kelsie shrugged. "Well, I better get busy. James is picking me up early for our weekend away and I don't want to be rushing to get things done last-minute."

Skyler scowled as Kelsie sauntered away. "One day… One day I'm going to go off on her, and I promise you, it won't be pretty."

She turned to you. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna go ahead and go see Ellison. I'll catch up with you later."

You headed towards Ellison's office, knocking on the doorframe when you reached the threshold. "Hey, you wanted to see me?"

Ellison nodded and gestured towards the couch opposite him. "Yeah, take a seat."

Oh, shit. Sitting was never good news. Sitting indicated Serious Conversation that usually resulted in someone getting reprimanded -- or worse.

You swallowed nervously as you sat. "What's up?"

Ellison reached for a stapled set of papers -- papers you recognized as the copy of your article that you had set on his desk Wednesday afternoon and had been waiting for feedback on. "I want to talk to you about your article."

You didn't notice any red markings on it, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A dozen thoughts flew through your mind, none of them good. Did he hate my article and I need to rewrite the entire thing? Am I being reassigned? Did Matt call to complain about me having been unprofessional somehow and that's why I haven't heard from him?

Ellison peered up at you above his glasses. "Remember when I told you not to make me regret agreeing to give you a raise?"

You nodded, your heartbeat quickening. "Uh huh."

"Well…" Ellison grinned at you. "There's a reason I told you that you're my best reporter, and it's because of articles like this."

A wave of relief washed over you. Oh, thank God. "You liked it?"

"Liked it? I loved it." Ellison shook his head. "In fact, I think this is the best article I've read in a very long time."

A slow smile spread across your face. "Really?"

Ellison nodded. "I knew if anyone on staff would be able to get Chef Murdock to open up, it would be you. I feel like I've gotten to know him through your writing -- that bit about him volunteering to cook for the soup kitchen at Clinton Church every Sunday after the restaurant closes? It's almost like I was there with the two of you. The descriptions of the dishes you tried at his restaurant? I could almost taste them myself."

He flipped to the second page. "And that final line? 'Chef Murdock's professionalism, masterful culinary skills, and obvious love and care that he puts into his cooking all combine to create a delicious recipe for success' ? Probably the best closing sentence I've ever read. In fact, I was so blown away by your article that I'm submitting it for consideration in the NYPC's Journalism awards next year. I have a feeling it'll win the Best Feature Reporting category by a landslide."

You were speechless. "I honestly don't know what to say, Mitch. Thank you."

Ellison leaned back in his chair with a grin. "Say you'll remember to thank me in your acceptance speech when you inevitably win."

You nodded. "Absolutely. If I win, you'll be the first person I thank."

"Good. Now, I have an editorial column to write for Restaurant Week so let me get back to it, but I want to tell you again… great job."

You stood. "Thank you, Mitch, truly."

You left Ellison's office, a huge smile on your face.

"You look happy," Skyler said as you passed her in the hallway. "Good meeting?"

You nodded. "The best. Ellison loved my article and said that he was going to nominate it for the Press Club's Journalism awards next year."

Skyler gasped. "You're kidding!"

She wrapped her arms around you in a hug. "Oh my gosh, I'm so happy for you. My best friend, an award-winning journalist!"

You huffed out a laugh as you gave her a quick hug back. "That's the dream, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. I probably won't win."

Skyler shook her head. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you will. You're an incredible writer."

"Thanks, Sky." You smiled. "I'm gonna go send my article over to Matt. Hopefully he likes it as much as Ellison did."

"Okay. I'm about to head out to go pick up my press pass for that music festival I'm covering this weekend. Did you want me to grab something for you while I'm out?"

You shook your head. "I'm good. Thanks though."

"Okay, I'll see you later then."

You headed back to your desk and pulled up your email, clicking the button to draft a new email and attaching the document with your article from your desktop.

To: [email protected]

Subject: Bulletin Article

Attachment: Restaurant Week Feature V1.doc

You considered adding a message, but still wasn't sure what you'd say to him besides "I'm sorry", so you left it blank.

You were getting ready to click send when Kelsie walked up to you. "There's a delivery for you downstairs," she said. "You have to go sign for it."

Your brow furrowed. Normally Phil, the Bulletin 's security guard, signed for deliveries and put them in your mailbox. "Oh. Okay."

"And by the way, I'm not your secretary, so next time there's a message for you, someone else can deliver it."

You sighed. "Whatever, Kelsie."

You stood and headed to the elevator, then went down to the first floor.

You frowned as the doors opened and you stepped out to an empty lobby.

You walked over to the security desk. "Phil, did I have a delivery in the past couple of minutes?"

The security guard shook his head. "We had several packages come in, but nothing for you that I know of."

You shrugged. Kelsie must've been mistaken. "Okay, thanks."

You headed back upstairs to your desk and clicked send on your email to Matt.

You sighed. At least that's done.

…So why did you feel uneasy?

Matt was sitting at his computer in his office working on the next week's purchase orders when his computer chimed with a new email alert.

He navigated to his inbox and opened the email, waiting as his voice accessibility feature read out the information.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Bulletin Article

Attachments: (1) Restaurant Week Feature V1.doc

He took a deep breath and opened the attachment, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

He plugged in his headphones, then hit the keyboard command to start his text-to-speech service.

His heart sank as his computer began to read the article aloud to him. It was full of false information, including completely made-up quotes and scathing reviews of both Daredevil and Matt personally. At least she left what I told her at Fogwell's out of it.

He listened to it twice more, his stomach sinking lower and lower each time.

He was contemplating listening to it yet another time when Foggy walked in. "Hey, Matt, we need to add extra oranges to next week's --"

He paused. "What's wrong?"

Matt sighed. "The Bulletin article."

Foggy stepped fully inside the office. "Oh, you got it?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, and it's just like I thought -- she was using me the whole time."

Foggy placed a hand on the back of Matt's chair as he peered at Matt's computer screen.

He sucked in a breath. " Shit, man, I'm sorry."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew that she would turn out to be just like Elektra."

His phone began to ring, the repetition of your name twisting the knife into his heart.

He answered, saying your name flatly.

"Matt, hi," you replied. "I was just calling to let you know that I sent you a copy of my article."

"Yeah, I got it."

"Oh. Okay." You sounded unsure. "Have you read it yet?"

"Oh, yeah, I read it." Matt scoffed. "What, are you expecting me to be happy about it, to say 'thank you?' I knew I shouldn't have trusted you -- all you journalists are exactly alike."

"What?" You sounded confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you used me to make a name for yourself. Always looking for the next big scoop, no matter who you screw over in the process."

"Screw over? Matt, I don't under--"

"I actually thought you cared about me, that maybe you felt--" Matt cut himself off and shook his head. "You know what, don't bother coming by my restaurant ever again -- you're not welcome here."

Before you could say anything else, Matt hung up then threw his phone across the room. "Fuck. "

Foggy placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Matty."

Matt shook his head. "You know, the worst part about all this is that I could feel myself falling for her, Fog. I thought she was different, I thought -- I thought that maybe someday she could be the one."

He sighed. "By the way, I know you meant well and all, but don't ever offer for me to do anything involving a journalist ever again."

Foggy chuckled. "Oh, no danger of that, don't worry."

He patted Matt's shoulder. "Come on, let's finish getting ready. If this article is going to tank us then we're going to make these last few services the best we possibly can."

#lotmf writes #Cooking Up Love Masterlist #Chef!Matt Murdock x Reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt muerdock x you

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geralts-yenn · 1 year

Text

caught

A/N: So I tried to add to the stories for @sillyrabbit81's absolutely amazing milestone celebration...

You can find the masterlist for the celebration event here

My masterlist is to be found here

Pairing: Mikey (Hellraiser) x reader (female reader, no race, body type or physical features mentioned)

Prompt: Playful-Happy / Mike / Caught masturbating

summary: just some playful banter and porn without plot

warnings: smut: male masturbation, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), p-i-v sex , a hint of spanking, Mikey being Mikey…

word count: 2k

This is a follow up of pranked but both stories can be read separately

@sillyrabbit81 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @deandoesthingstome @ylva-stark @ellethespaceunicorn

If you want to be tagged / don't want to be tagged anymore please let me know

You were about to ring the doorbell when the door opened and Walter straight up bumped into you. “Oh, hey, didn’t notice you. You okay?” he asked. You nodded. “I’m fine, Walter. Thank you!” Why the hell did you thank him? For running into you? Most probably, yes, his firm chest felt really good. But you hoped he wouldn’t come to this conclusion.

“Mike is still asleep as far as I know. But I guess he wouldn’t mind you waking him up. I’m on my way to the office, so…” You were glad he didn’t end his sentence. Because, of course, he meant to give you the hint that this time in fact there wouldn’t be anyone in the house to hear you. Still remembering that awkward breakfast with Mike and his dad after the first night you spent at their house, you didn’t need another conversation like that.

You went up the stairs and heard music coming from Mikey’s room. So you wouldn’t need to wake him up. After knocking on his door, you waited a moment, but there was no reaction. You knocked a second time, still nothing. But it was Mike, who knows where his head was right at the moment? And what could be the worst thing you could run into?

Well, yes, the situation in front of you probably was within the top three worst things to run into in your boyfriend’s room. You were staring at Mikey, who lay on his bed, fisting his cock. Your mouth formed a small 'O'. As was Mikey’s. He was stroking himself at a fast pace and with a tight grip. His eyes were shut and the deep frown on his forehead wouldn’t have brought you to the conclusion of what he was doing at the moment, if you didn’t see it for yourself.

He didn’t seem to notice you, and your mind was racing, thinking how to react. But it was Mikey. He could deal with a little embarrassment. “Doing so good, baby!” you praised him, followed by a small chuckle. Mike’s head shot up to you. But to your surprise, he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. A wide grin spread over his face.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, I was just thinking about you.” He didn’t even stop his ministrations.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh my god, Mikey!” At least, finally, he got up and packed himself back into his boxers. The only piece of clothing he was wearing, as you took in, appreciating his broad shoulders and his abs that formed a nice looking eight pack. Your eyes followed down the trail of hair on his stomach. You could still see the big bulge, covered by thin fabric now. And of course, this sight didn't leave you without a physical response. You felt that familiar tingling between your legs.

“You wanna join me, babycakes? I could use some help.” Mike and you met in the middle of his room, and your mouth was on his as soon as you were near enough to reach him.

Mike started out slowly but it didn't need long until you felt his kiss getting more heated. You dropped your backpack on the floor so you could sink your fingers into his curls like you loved it. Mike's arms tightened around your waist and his hands sneaked up under your shirt. You brushed your tongue over his lips and felt Mike's tongue intruding your mouth the very next moment. With the familiar sweet and minty taste of him, you felt a wave of warmth sweep through your body.

Your hands traveled down his neck, along his spine, until you carefully pushed your fingers under the elastics of his underwear to cup his cute ass.

“Mh, look who is needy,” Mikey mumbled into your mouth and you could feel him grinning. He took your explorations as an invitation to move his hands, too, and they went to your chest and brushed over your bra. His thumb slowly circled around your hard nipples. Both of you moaned in each other's mouths.

Mikey grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled at it. Next, your shorts found their way to the floor. His hands were roaming over your body, his mouth on yours, rough and demanding. Fuck, this guy made you so desperate with his way of kissing and touching you! This desperation needed to be stilled. So your fingers were back on Mikey's boxer briefs and you carefully pulled them over his erection and down to his knees.

A gasp left Mikey’s mouth when you wrapped your fingers around his cock. You stroked him a few times, but this wasn’t what was on your mind. Your mouth left Mikey’s lips and instead you went down over his throat and chest, licking, biting and kissing, while you sank on your knees. Mikey growled in anticipation.

You sat on your heels and looked up at him. For a moment, Mike stood completely still, the only movement the fast heaving of his chest. You bit on your lip to hide the smile when you thought what an uncommon sight that was. But then your impatience got the better of you and you grabbed his cock with one hand and started to circle your tongue over his tip.

The drop of pre-cum on it left a salty taste in your mouth.

As you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him with hollow cheeks, Mikey couldn’t hold back any more, and his small hisses changed into loud moans. His sounds made your pussy clench around nothing and you were sure your panties were completely soaked by now. In no way you were able to take him completely, so your hand closed around the base of his shaft and moved together with your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful with my cock in your mouth!” As you looked up and met his gaze, Mike let out another deep growl. His hands cradled around the back of your head and he thrust his hip forward. You felt him moving in your throat, as deep as you could take him. Your saliva drooled down your chin. But then Mike pulled back, still holding you, and his cock left your mouth with a pop.

He bent down to you and with one swift movement he had thrown you over his shoulders and carried you to his bed where he dropped you onto the mattress. “Time for breakfast!” he exclaimed with a wide grin. Kneeling next to you, he hurried to get rid of your bra and panties, throwing them onto the floor to the rest of your clothes. His boxers followed on the spot when he kicked them off his legs.

Without any teasing or slow build up, Mikey just dove his head between your legs and devoured your pussy as if he was starving. Now it was you who couldn’t keep quiet, and Mike knew exactly what to do to entice all these lewd little sounds out of you. You started to squirm under him as his mouth worked sloppily on your clit. But when he slipped two fingers into your cunt, you lost all control. Your hips jerked up, and your fingers dug into his hair, riding his tongue and fingers to your climax.

When you slowly came to your senses again, you opened your eyes and saw Mikey still kneeling between your legs, looking onto your pussy like a happy little puppy. Your heart melted at that sight. You grabbed his hands and pulled him down to you, kissing him feverishly. Trying to get him as close as possible, you wrapped your arms around him.

Mike mirrored your movement, closing his arms around you. You didn’t even notice how he managed, but in the next moment, Mike was laying on his back and your body was spread on top of him.

You positioned your legs beside his thighs and straddled him. When you sat up, Mike followed you while your tongues kept exploring each other's mouths. You grinded on Mikey’s hips, your wet folds brushing over his hard shaft. Mike moaned desperately into your mouth. You teased him a few times more by rolling your hips over him, but then you took pity on him and positioned his cock at your entrance. As you rose up to do so, Mike took the opportunity to dive into your cleavage, kneading both of your breasts. Slowly you sank down, feeling him stretching your walls while Mike’s mouth circled around your pebbled peaks.

When you had taken all of him into you, you started to ride him frantically. Your hips smashed down on him while Mike enjoyed your boobs bouncing in his face with every thrust. Mike readjusted his position, and damn, that was a good move. You felt him rocking into you deeply like you never felt him before and you cried out his name. “Fuck, this feels good, baby!” he sighed. You felt your walls clench around him and only after a few more times crashing your hips together you fell apart once more. Your thighs trembled and you couldn’t keep up the pace any longer.

Mike crawled out under you. While you were still kneeling with shaking legs, he positioned himself behind you and slapped your ass. And then he split your wet cunt open again and started to pound into you. Strangled moans coming from him, you were sure he was close now. And so you bucked your hips against him, helping him chase his climax. The smacking noises of your bodies joined the sounds of your moans.

Mike wrapped his arms around your chest and guided you to sit up with him. Your sweaty bodies rubbed against each other. Mike’s hands found their favorite place in the world on your boobs again and he rutted hard into you. Finally, he spilled himself into you with one last powerful thrust.

Both of you just dropped to the bed and lay there, totally spent. Mike wrapped one arm around you and kissed your forehead. “That was better than what I imagined when you came in, earlier!” You both laughed. “Glad I could help,” you answered him with a wink and snuggled into his embrace.

“Mike?” You brushed a lock of his hair out of his face. He was still fuckdrunk and couldn't even open his eyes fully. “Hm?” he hummed in return.

“You knew I was coming, right?” He wrinkled his nose, looking honestly confused. “I wouldn't stop before I had made you come, baby, you know that.” You chuckled and shook your head. “No, smarty, I meant, you know I was coming over to your house this morning. Why did you even start, you know, masturbating?” His long fingers brushed lazily over your back. “It's not like I had planned this. I got up, saw that gorgeous selfie you sent me last night and, well, that was kinda inspiring.” He smirked. “So I started my 'don't-come-in'-music and got to work.” How that man always made you feel confused and totally smitten at the same time… “Your what?” You blinked at him. Mike pointed to his speaker. “When I don't want Walter to come into my room, I start this particular song. He knows to stay away when he hears it.” Shaking your head and giggling, you said: “You know, there are keys that could do the same?”

“Yeah, lost mine some time ago. And maybe I did some things that made Walter believe it would be safer to not get me a new one” He shrugged and gave you a wink. You decided that you definitely didn't want to ask what exactly he did, so you stayed silent. But after a moment, a thought came to your mind. “Wait, did Walter hear that music or did you just start it right before I entered your room?”

Mike watched you curiously. “He must have heard” This family made you speechless over and over again. “So he knew exactly what I was running into," you remarked.

“Yeah, probably wanted me to feel embarrassed. But come on, I was raised in this family of lunatics. It takes more than jerking off in front of my girl to make me feel ashamed.”

#rabbitsmilestone23 #mikey hellraiser #mike hellraiser fanfiction #my writing #pwp

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wander-wren · 2 months

Text

almost escaped the anti-ao3 posts this donation round but of course today i get smacked with a few, so i go hunting for this year’s arguments, which, as expected, touch a lot on palestine.

what i’m seeing here is a shitton of inflammatory language and very few sources, and even fewer sources that aren’t screenshots of That One Tweet. most of the arguments from both sides are made on things that aren’t entirely true. i dislike this. so let’s clear the air a bit, hm?

1) ao3 is a racist/zionist organization

ao3 has had its scandals, including the 2023 management scandal in its full glory, which you can read about at the linked fanlore article. that covers several different areas where ao3 messed up. i will not defend these instances. i will, however, point out that very few of the current anti-ao3 posts mention them.

additionally, there is this fanlore article specifically about the issue wherein a volunteer was told to remove “from the river to the sea, palestine will be free” from their status, which is the singular piece of evidence referenced for ao3’s zionism. it has been spread that the otw banned or kicked out this volunteer, which is untrue; they left voluntarily. the otw also offered to allow the volunteer in question to change the status to “i stand with palestine,” communicating the same message in a less polarizing way.

you are allowed to dislike this decision. i do. but the otw slack is first and foremost a professional space, and they are within their rights to ask for political discussion to be kept out—or, in this case, to a politics channel so it can be opted out of. i am not currently aware of anyone having asked the otw board to ban or otherwise address pro-israel sentiments in the slack server, so i cannot actually make any statements about unequal decisions, because those decisions were not made.

ultimately i do not disagree that otw/ao3 have made poor choices rooted in racism in the past, but i also believe many of these posts discussing it now are performative, inflammatory, and misleading, which is not helpful

2) donating to ao3 during a genocide is bad/selfish/racist/etc

there are always problems in the world. this is literally the same argument as every previous year with new paint on it. people can care about more than one thing.

3) ao3 is a scam/mismanages money/gets more than they need/is horrible for not paying volunteers

here is a post i made last year breaking down ao3’s budget. what’s funny is, i saw a post going on for paragraphs about how they “calculated” that ao3 has 2.8 million in reserves (assuming their 2023 numbers shook out, it is like $1.5 million at best. these numbers are public and easy to find) and that they have “no idea” what to do with it and are deliberately not being transparent about it (they have publicly stated in news posts exactly what that money is for).

one very confusingly-worded post seemed to argue that it is morally wrong to have volunteer library workers, which is the same as ao3? something about master’s degrees? i just thought that was funny because. like. what. do you think the volunteers are the ones with a master’s in library science, friend?

also, people have said it’s a scam because they don’t update the site, and i’m like….what do you want them to update, exactly? i just want more tags wrangled. i suppose that translates to me wanting an update on the servers or whatever bit of hardware is limiting the tag system. otherwise i don’t see why you have to fix a good thing.

4) ao3 hosts evil bad fanfiction

ah, the age-old “child porn” argument. or racism is a big one this year. do i have to get into this one? it’s so goddamn annoying. just read the about page or a wiki article with your eyes. anti-censorship. yada yada yada. also, if you use the phrase “child porn” i do not respect you or take you seriously.

okay, first of all, fanfiction does not meet the definition of csam. it’s fanfiction. it’s fiction. there are tags for a reason. none of it is illegal. most of it has been published in real books for money before. you can hate it, but it deserves to exist, and with the way explicit material is getting deleted off the internet (see: wattpad’s new policies, google drive’s new policies), ao3 is a last bastion in the storm.

5) you should check out end-otw-racism for more helpful info

honestly i thought this movement was dead by now, but i’ve seen a lot of it mentioned today so i went to check. some things i found, scrolling alllll the way back to august:

a pinned post from SEVEN months ago that is several paragraphs of back-patting from the mods about how much “work” and “goals” have been accomplished and how grateful they are to the community. no mention whatsoever of what those goals were or what specifically was accomplished. also says the mods are going on break for a while, which presumably is still in effect

a few posts about the otw’s board meetings for various months, each rehashing how a board meeting runs and when the next one is being held. no information about what questions or comments the organization wants to focus on for each meeting or specific actions supporters should take

post about substack being a nazi site now (this is the only post i fully respect)

more board meeting reminders of no substance

a post reviewing the board elections, going over each candidate. the post acknowledges that no candidates mentioned the campaign or its specific goals, and instead grasps at vaguely related topics as if to show the volunteers are listening to them and they have done something

more board meeting reminders

a post about an update to the board’s strategic plan for 2023, which also acknowledges that the update does not really do anything end-otw-racism wanted it to do. many instances of “could have been a great opportunity to” do what they wanted. this one DOES finally state eotwr’s “recommendations” for the next strategic plan update, which literally all boil down to “more transparency,” which i suppose is fair enough

absolutely NO mention of palestine whatsoever

post on the weibo scandal, which is fine but generic, and again, not something brought up ever again despite being made in AUGUST

here i will give you a reminder that some of eotwr’s goals, particularly the ones around moderation and censorship, were unrealistic given the otw’s mission. while i believe eotwr started with good intentions, it seems to have rapidly dissolved into something performative and did not have solid enough organization to actually make any difference. their silence on palestine (and they are still posting despite the “break”) also makes bringing them up in convos about otw’s potential zionist leanings very weird.

at the end of the day, support ao3 or don’t. your morals and reasonings are your own. just don’t lie about them in ways that can be easily disproved, mkay?

this discourse also made me realize it’s been a minute since i reblogged a proper donations masterpost for palestine, so i am on the hunt for a good, up-to-date one now. feel free to link me any you know of.

#ao3 #anti ao3 #pro ao3 #otw #otw board #wren wrambles #wren attempts fucking nuance on the piss on the poor website #i’m problem going to regret posting this but fuck it #stop spreading misinformation #and maybe i wouldnt have to

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chicgeekgirl89 · 2 months

Text

Chapter 2 is Here!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

T.K. stares directly into Paul’s eyes without blinking. His face is completely neutral, his body still. There’s no possible way—

“Got any eights?”

“Damn it Paul!” T.K. explodes, throwing a card down on the table that Paul sweeps up victoriously. “You have to be cheating!”

“Not cheating,” Paul says, a smug smile on his face. “Just very good at reading your tells.”

“I don’t have a tell!” T.K. gripes.

Paul places his eights on the table, spreading them out so everyone can see. “That’s what you think.”

“This game is not fun when you’re losing,” Mateo says sadly, looking at his hand, which is very full of cards.

“Marj, you got any fives?” Paul asks and she rolls her eyes as she hands them over. “Ooooh I am never doing dishes again!” he says happily.

Despite his annoyance at his teammate, there’s a spiral of happiness swirling through T.K. This feels normal. It feels good. The last year has been hell, but he finally feels like he can breathe again.

Leaving New York for Austin had sucked. In a lot of ways it still does. But he’s been going to meetings, going to therapy, and having the 126 at his back has helped a lot. The world still seems grey, but that’s an improvement over the black sucking hole his life had become after Alex rejected his proposal and sent him spiraling toward the grave.

Oddly enough, the thing that helped the most was getting shot. That had also sucked, but the way the team had rallied around him after has helped to sharpen the edges of the fuzzy world he’s been living in. They care. They love him. They’re family.

And now he’s finally back on active duty. He’d shown up last week to his first shift and found a banner and a cake and decorations all over his locker. For a moment the world had flickered into color again, just a flash of what life could be if he was, you know, happy. It had gone away as quickly as it had come, but it had given him just a tiny bit of hope. Like maybe things could be okay again. Maybe he could be okay again.

Paul has finally run out his turn and Marjan is trying to get Judd to give her nines that he obviously doesn’t have. T.K.’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

Random Number

[8:32pm] Hey, I had a good time the other night. Would love to hear more about that trip to Croatia sometime.

“Well that’s a face.” His dad’s voice cuts through the ribbing of the game as he joins them at the table, an espresso in hand. “What could possibly be in that text message that’s got you looking like that?”

“Some random person texted me the other day and they just did it again,” T.K. says. “Must be a wrong number.”

“You sure?” Mateo asks. “One time I thought I was getting random texts asking me on a date and I kept deleting them. Turns out it was my dentist reminding me of the date of my appointment. I missed it and they charged me like a hundred bucks.”

“Yikes probie,” Marjan says with a grimace, shuffling through her cards again.

“It’s not my dentist,” T.K. tells them.

“Just ignore ‘em,” Judd says. “No point in wasting your time wondering. Delete the text.”

“Or text back and ask who it is,” Paul says. “Could be a Nigerian prince who thinks you’re very beautiful and will give you many riches if you just send him a check for a thousand dollars first.”

“Shut up,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes.

“Just text them back. They should know it’s a wrong number,” Owen says.

T.K. considers this then starts typing.

T.K.

[8:34pm] Who is this?

Random Number

[8:37pm] Carlos. From the bar. We kissed, remember?

Carlos? T.K.’s mind goes completely blank. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone named Carlos in his entire life. And he definitely hasn’t been kissing guys in bars lately. Things have been…incredibly dry in that department. Getting shot sort of sucks the libido right out of you and so far he hasn’t had the energy to try and find his dating mojo again.

He frowns and types back.

T.K.

[8:38pm] I don’t remember kissing anybody at a bar recently…

“T.K., your turn,” Judd prompts him.

“Sorry,” T.K. says, watching distractedly as three bubbles pop up on his screen and then looks hurriedly at his cards. “Marj, any aces?”

“Go fish.”

He grabs a card from the pile and adds it to his hand then glances back down at his phone. Holy hell.

Whoever this Carlos guy is, he’s sent a selfie and he’s hot as fuck. T.K.’s eyes take in dark, wild curls and a set of broad, muscled shoulders. Below that is a six pack worthy of an Oscar that tapers to a cut V along this guy’s hips, disappearing into his low slung shorts. His pecs are so defined they look photoshopped. He’s gorgeous. T.K. has never seen anyone like him.

“Whoa.”

T.K. startles when he realizes Marjan is leaning over his shoulder so she can stare at his phone. “Who is that?” she asks, nearly as awed as he is.

“The guy that’s been texting me,” T.K. says, trying to cool the blush that’s heating up his face. He’s not even sure why he’s blushing. It’s just a picture.

“Ooh lemme see!” Mateo gets up in a flurry of cards.

“Hey! Aw hell,” Judd says, throwing his hand down, the game now ruined.

“Damn. That guy is BUILT,” Mateo says. “Text him and ask him what his workout routine is.”

“Better yet, text him back and ask him out,” Paul says, crowding in behind T.K.’s chair.

“I’m not going to ask him out,” T.K. says, pushing the words past his throat and wishing he’d chosen somewhere more private for this. “I’ll just tell him I’m not whoever he thinks I am.”

“Are you crazy?” Marjan asks, shoving his shoulder. “Who cares if he thinks you’re someone else? That man is gorgeous. If you don’t do something about it, you’re stupid.”

“I agree,” Paul says.

“Me too!” Mateo pipes up.

“Do I get a vote?” Judd asks.

“Well apparently everybody else does, so why not?” T.K. huffs.

“I vote we get back to this game and stop gawking over some guy’s picture.”

“I believe the kids call it a ‘thirst trap’,” Owen says, joining the throng and peering down at T.K.’s phone. “It’s mean to attract potential sexual partners by increasing desire.”

“Okay thanks Dad,” T.K. says, pushing his chair back and forcing them all to scatter. “I think I’ll handle this on my own.”

They all protest as he heads to the bunk room, but he ignores them, grateful when the door closes and there’s nothing but quiet.

He sinks down onto his bed and studies the text again, pulling the photo up and zooming in a little, his eyes drinking in perfect bronze skin and muscles. God. Whoever this Carlos thinks he’s texting is extremely lucky. T.K. reluctantly texts back.

T.K.

[8:49pm] Hey, sorry, I really have no idea who you are.

Hot Guy Carlos

[8:50pm] This isn’t Deacon?

Deacon? T.K. snorts. What a pretentious asshole name. Then again, Tyler Kennedy isn’t exactly your standard Kyle or Chris either. But good to know Carlos is as gay as he looks.

T.K.

[8:51pm] Nope. I’m T.K.

He sends a selfie for good measure. One where he knows he looks hot. He’s wearing his AFD t-shirt and his eyes are doing that flirty sparkle thing he uses to drive men crazy. Because if Carlos is going to start texting the real Deacon instead, T.K. would at least like him to know what he’s missing.

Three little dots pop up and second later a text comes through.

Hot Guy Carlos

[8:53pm] Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

T.K.

[8:53pm] No worries.

And that’s the end of it. Right? Because when a random person texts you and you graciously explain that they have the wrong number, you don’t continue to text. No matter how breathtaking they are.

T.K. pulls up the photo again and his heart clenches in his chest. Everything around him seems grey, but this photo is stunning technicolor.

He saves it to his camera roll.

#Tarlos #Thirst Trap Thursday #911lsfic #Tarlos Fic

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finduilasclln · 1 year

Text

Welcome to my Buddie Fic Rec List!

Since I read so many Buddie fics, and some of them are so good, I thought I’d share them in some handy lists. I’ll be posting them in different categories, and you will be able to find all the posts HERE.

Disclaimer: Always read the tags and warnings! Also, tastes differ. These are my personal favorites, which doesn’t mean they’ll automatically be yours of course.

If you want to reblog and add some of your own favorites that fit the category, please be my guest! I always love discovering new fics. I will also add new recs of my own whenever I stumble upon them.

One last thing: Please like and comment when you’ve had a nice read. It means so much to authors to hear your thoughts! And don’t hesitate to share this post and spread the love for these fics around!

Buddie Fic Rec: "Lightning Strike / Buck's Coma".

Fics that are dealing with episodes 6.10 and 6.11 aka Buck getting hit by lightning and his subsequent coma. (Speculation as well as canon compliant)

It only falls into place when you're falling to pieces, by justhockey || 4759 words ||

“You don’t deserve him,” Eddie says. “You never have, and you never will.”

And then he hangs up the phone and lets out a ragged breath - one it sounds like he’s been holding for much longer than the length of that conversation.

It makes Buck’s fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch him. He’s reached through fire and over cliff sides, across blood-soaked asphalt and between a decades worth of trauma, all for Eddie. This - this is nothing.

one more tomorrow, by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) || 4438 words ||

He presses Buck’s hand into his forehead and breathes in the scent of antiseptic that lingers on Buck’s skin. He doesn't understand how he missed so many clues, doesn't know how he's been so clueless. But he thinks that some part of him did know that he was in love with Buck, because he put him in his will and made him Christopher’s guardian. Some part of him, deep down, knew what Eddie himself didn’t even realize.

He exhales and squeezes Buck’s hand again. It’s not supposed to be like this – the will doesn’t cover this. It was never supposed to be Buck that goes first.

“Bobby,” he whispers, voice cracking as he closes his eyes against the dorsum of Buck’s hand again. “What am I going to do?” -- Or, in the hospital, Eddie waits, and thinks, and dreams.

coming back as we are, by markofalover (@markofalover) || 4178 words ||

“Hey, Buck,” Maddie cuts in, soft. “Evan. Look at me.”

Buck looks at her. His heart rate is up, he can hear it on the monitor, and the nurse is looking between them with a raised brow. He’ll have to remember to apologize later, after he gets to his—

“They’re in the waiting room.”

...or, wherever he was, Buck comes back.

the tide comes (and goes and goes), by renecdote (@renecdote) || 3402 words ||

It’s almost funny that Eddie brought him to the beach today. To the ocean. He doesn’t know—can’t know, Buck hasn’t told anyone—but Buck feels unbearably seen by it anyway. He almost wishes Bobby was here too, so he could let his captain wrap an arm around his shoulders and say, “See? It didn’t take either of us.”

(That’s not true though, is it? It took them, it just didn’t keep them.)

Buck, Eddie, the beach, and conversations about okay.

For BTHB: hyperventilating

like the peel clings to the pomegranate, by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) || 3482 words ||

Buck startles awake to Chris prying his eye open. Chris’s concerned expression swims into his vision as both eyes adjust, squinting at the morning sun streaming in through the window.

“You’ve been sleeping for fourteen hours,” Chris deadpans. Buck is still half asleep, but he catches the slight waver in his voice, can see his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Buck carefully. “You went to bed at seven last night, and now it’s nine in the morning.”

“Nine in the morning, huh?” Buck’s own voice resembles more of a croak as he sits up, muscles aching and head still throbbing. It’s all a result of being struck by lightning and in a coma for a few days, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

But what he does like is the smell of Eddie’s sheets, the pictures of him and Eddie and Chris on Eddie’s bedroom walls. He likes the feeling of Eddie’s arms around him in the middle of the night, making sure that he’s okay and breathing.

“Christopher.” Eddie’s voice hisses through the crack in the bedroom door. “I told you not to bother him.” -- Or, Buck recovers and doesn't quite realize what he means to others.

Raise my hand before I can speak my mind, by Mellaithwen (@mellaithwen) || 1696 words ||

“My name’s Eddie, by the way. Eddie Diaz.”

“Buck,” Evan says in response, before frowning. He’s never introduced himself as Buck in his entire life. “Uh—I mean—my name is Evan but…"

“But your friends call you Buck?”

Evan wants to say no, actually, because they don't. The youngest Buckley sibling has always gone by his first name, or his full surname. Never anything in between. The closest he’s ever come to having a nickname is when kids like to call him Mr Bee! And he buzzes back in response, but….Buck? No, that’s...that's new..

Eddie meets his son's favorite teacher, although it's not technically their first meeting at all... aka a coma!dream meet-cute.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath), by burnthatbridge (@burnthatbridge) || 6157 words ||

When Eddie wakes, it’s to Buck’s arm slung across his chest, Buck’s ankle hooked over his, and Buck’s erection pressing into his hip.

Two out of three of those aren’t unusual.

It’s six weeks since the lightning. Five weeks and two days since Buck woke up. Four weeks and three days since he was released from hospital. Four weeks exactly since he came home, came to stay at the Diaz house while he recuperates, like he should have from the start.

It’s been three weeks and four days since they started sharing the bed.

or: Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

Fragile lines (and wasted time), by Mellaithwen (@mellaithwen) || 7457 words ||

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin.

But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed.

“I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed..

While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

***

I will be adding my own fics that fit the category, in case you want to read those too:

lights will guide you home, by Finduilas || 916 words ||

Buck and Eddie have a talk after Buck gets back from the hospital.

#Buddie #Buddie fic rec #911 #Buddie fic #Fin's fic rec list #NEW CATEGORY!#Because this one needs a new page :)

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emry-stars-art · 1 year

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Regarding the incredible royal AU (THAT I LOVE SO MUCH ALREADY🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡) If that’s okay I would love to hear more about andreil and what happens next? Maybe about them becoming official (like official official- being recognised as a prince and his betrothed/ husband(?)) (I guess it depends if in your AU people officially recognise gay relationships (hopefully they do? :D) and just the overall reactions to that event or maybe like the scene of one of them proposing to the other (I don’t really know about engagements in history, do you need to properly court somebody? Or do you just give them a ring and ask?)

This is getting long and you don’t need to answer or anything but I just wanted to say I absolutely adore the way u draw the characters and their poses and interactions and I always love your additions like headcanons and notes and stuff (it’s honestly thrilling to read I can’t stop I love it so much)🥰🥹❤️❤️❤️ Hope you have a good day!!

Hello!! First thank you so much you’re so kind to come here and say all these things 🥹💕

As for andreil becoming official - I think yes. When I do royal aus I wouldn’t necessarily call the universe/world “queer normative” because the higher in station you go, the more true “straight until proven otherwise” holds - no one frowns on gay relationships and the setting is perfectly accepting, they just kind of… expect their rulers to be straight for bloodline convenience and all that 🤷 and it’s not like Andrew is trying to be subtle either, he keeps his relationships and ‘affairs’ to himself well but once he actually takes a liking to Abram he’s not really trying to hide it (case in point: here). He just lets the rumors about his sexuality spread and hopes he won’t have to make a big deal about coming out.

The really really fun part about universes like this is that we can kind of make up the traditions to be whatever we want! I love love love the idea of courting, I think it’s got great possibilities (and I’m so certain Aaron courting Katelyn was like the floweriest, cutest thing ever omg) so I’d love to make Andrew actually commit to courting Abram 😂 But like in canon where Andrew and Neil (and this is only a widely accepted head canon) don’t make a big deal about a proposal and wedding, probably having a tiny wedding or just going to the courthouse - Prince Andrew doesn’t make it a grand, super special thing like King Aaron and Katelyn wanted to. He picks the parts he likes and makes sure he meets all the basic expected requirements (because I want SO BADLY for Andrew to secretly be a sap, he likes the romantic stuff he just doesn’t like making it public) and then when Abram wants to, they get married and Abram becomes whatever title is next in line after prince. Duke? I don’t remember right now but yeah to avoid confusion/political issues he is not technically also considered a prince.

The people as a general rule love this, people like parties and they like celebration and a wedding is both of those and the prince seems happy so that’s as good as it’s gonna get. No one’s going to be able to say Abram doesn’t make them a tiny bit wary because let’s be real. Abram’s nature before you get to know him can be off putting. But that’s the only real thing anyone would have against their marriage.

ANYWAY. god there’s so many ways it could go, so many little things and fun possibilities to consider when you think about an Abram/Andrew courtship and SINCE WE GET TO MAKE UP THE RULES?? If you guys start putting courtship ideas in the tags and replies I might melt omg 😭🥰 sappy Andrew, Abram picking up on it when he realizes how much Andrew likes it (the only thing he’s actually sappy about is making Andrew blush and making him feel special in ways that aren’t just because of his station), parts they put on for show and the little cute things they do for each other when no one else is there… AUGH

Yeah to answer your question: the people are surprised but cool with a gay prince, they think his fiancé’s a little spooky but whatever, and andreil court at Andrew’s pace and get married when Abram is ready and everyone is happy :D

#THIS ASK WAS SO FUN THANK YOU #i love Andrew thinking ‘please let them assume I’m gay’ whenever he does something else nice for his guard lmao #my writing #royal au #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #asks

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playername-player-of-games · 2 months

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oli and 🌸

🌸: draw a character with flowers that match their personality (did i pick good ones let's find out together)

hiii so do you remember in empires s2 when all of the empires all had to bring some artifact/item important to their empire to pix's museum? this is that except instead Pix goes on a road trip with the Historian’s Guild to gather all of them in person and Oli tags along per Gem's request and the real adventure was the queerplatonic relationship we made along the way. have some olipix <3

Oli wipes his hands on his pants. "We've got nothin' to do today, yeah?"

Pix nods, "everyone's spending the day in town, and once they're back we'll have to do a headcount and pack up so we can leave first thing tomorrow."

"Okay but like, we're not doing anything 'til they get back, yeah?"

"Er- yes? Oli, what do you have planned?"

They end up in a flower field just outside of camp- still accessible, for anyone who needs the leader of the guild, but tucked away behind two caravans in a way that makes it feel as though they're alone.

Oli circles around one caravan with a fist full of flowers and a cream patchwork picnic blanket draped over one arm. Pix scoops up the two books Oli allowed him to bring, and helps spread out the blanket.

"I picked some daisies for you," Oli says as they settle- Pix stacking his books, and Oli spreading out rows of tiny blossoms, "I hope that's alright."

"That's fine."

Pix watches him sort them- length, number of petals, general shape- he smiles to himself and picks up a book and quill.

Oli looks up, "Oi, what are you doing, fella?"

"Sorting out assignments," he scratches jobs beside names, wishing he'd brought a pencil instead when ink drips onto his fingers. "Everyone will need a job when they get back to camp."

"What? No no," Oli reaches for his quill- Pix tilts the book out of his reach, looking up to see Oli's frown. "You're meant to be relaxing. Put that away, sir!"

Pix releases his quill. Oli snatches it by the feather and sets it aside, the black ink leaving stains on the blanket.

"I'll need to do it later," Pix says as Oli takes his book. He blows on the open page to dry the ink a bit faster, then closes it and sets that aside as well, placing the quill on top.

"Yes, later." Oli brushes loose petals off his pants and smiles at him, "now go find some flowers for me! I want an elegant crown, Pixlriffs. Utterly stunning in every way, and I will settle for nothing less than perfection."

Pix chuckles, getting to his feet. His other book sits on the blanket- Oli snatches that too and starts stacking daisies on it. So much for reading on the way. Oli waves him off.

"Go! Flowers don't pick themselves, Pix."

"I'm going, I'm going," he steps carefully off the blanket, already scanning the treeline for patches of flowers. He spots some in the nearby field and starts that way. Azure bluets maybe? Or some poppies?

"Oh, Pix?"

"Hm?"

"Will you get my ribbon box, please, when you come back? I left it in our room."

Pixl returns to the blanket with an armful of sunflowers, cornflowers, and a box of decorative ribbons. Oli's tugging the box out of his hand before he's even settled on the blanket, and he scrambles to keep a hold on all the flowers he's gathered.

"Thank you for this," Oli says. He isn't looking at him when he says it, already digging through the bright colored ribbons, pulling out orange, gold, red, pink, setting them all aside. There's a half finished daisy chain laid out over one of his thighs, and a small pile of discarded daisies next to the quill.

"You're welcome," Pix answers, setting out his flowers between them on the blanket. He sorts them simpler than Oli did, sunflowers here, cornflowers there, and soon Oli is putting ribbons in his hands-

"I'd like these ones."

Blue and white, with light lacy trim on the sides. Barely noticeable, but a nice, subtle touch.

"Pretty please," Oli says.

Pix smiles, "I'll do my best."

Their meandering conversation cuts off as Oli lifts himself onto his knees and shuffles across the blanket.

He holds out his daisy chain crown, "hold still."

Pix pauses his weaving and bows his head just so, making it easier for Oli to reach. A light weight settles, then pulls away. Oli fluffs up his hair a bit, then the light weight is back, and he's shuffling back.

"There we are!" Oli beams, bright as the sun, as pride and fondness overwhelm his tone. "Beautiful."

Pix laughs, "thank you."

"Anytime." Oli looks down at the mess he's made of the flowers. Pix resumes his weaving as he makes two piles of the flowers- sunflowers here, cornflowers there, this time at the edge of the blanket. Still within reach, but clear enough now for Oli to fully lay down with his head in Pixl's lap.

"Is this alright?" he asks.

Pix brushes his nose with a cornflower as if it's a paintbrush, chuckling at the side eye he gives before swatting the flower away.

"You're fine," Pix tells him.

"Good. I'm going to nap."

Pix picks up another sunflower and starts fitting it onto the crown. "Goodnight."

He wraps the ribbon and other stems around to keep it in place. Oli's eyes are closed. He's frowning. He opens one eye to glare up at Pix.

"What, no sweet wishes? No goodnight kiss?"

Pix pulls off a loose petal and places it in the center of Oli's forehead.

"I'm working on your crown, Oli," he brushes the petal off, runs his fingers through Oli's hair. "Nothing less than perfection, remember?"

Oli pouts, closing his eyes again. "Fine."

Pix chuckles, "sweet dreams."

"Thank you."

Oli doesn't end up napping.

He doesn't exactly talk, either- at least not with his usual gusto. He's calm, quiet, handing Pixl whatever flowers he can't reach and complimenting the daisy crown, and correcting any little mistakes Pixl's made with his crown. Guild members come and go, some joining in conversations, others requesting help- when Oli isn't needed he turns to hide his face until Pix can talk to him again. They dance between topics that are easy to pick up and drop off as needed- favorite pattern of horse, how to decorate the caravan, what they'll do with the dragon when it hatches.

Pix requests a final cornflower. Oli passes it over.

"Do you really like me?" Oli asks, soft as petals.

Pix ties off the last ribbon and meets his eye with a smile. "I do."

Oli smiles, blinking sleepily. Pix lifts the crown.

"You ready for your crown?"

Oli brightens. Slowly pushes himself up and turns around so that he's facing Pix- Pix turns the crown around so that the ribbons will trail down his back. Oli bows his head. Pix fluffs up his hair and gently places it atop his head- adjusting until it fits nicely.

When Oli looks up, he's got a crown of sunflowers and cornflowers, with white and blue ribbons peeking through the gaps. The sun and the sky, the brightest days captured in his smile.

Pix reaches out, pulling the ribbons off of Oli's shoulders so that they hang freely down his back. Oli watches the movement, catches Pix's hand as he pulls away.

"Thank you for this," Oli says, holding Pix's hand in both of his. He traces lines between his freckles, as if they're constellations. "I know work is important, but rest is important too, and I thought a break would be nice."

Pix cups Oli's cheek in his hand, gently cutting him off. He kisses his forehead and tucks him into a hug.

"Thank you for this," Pix answers, carefully running a hand up and down his back. Oli holds on tight. "This was nice."

#if actions speak louder than words then making each other flower crowns is like wedding vows. to me. hope this helps /silly #empiresshipping #olipix #asks #ask game #me when i write #sage beloved #sorry if they don't sound like people. and instead sound like robots. i am sick 👍 /lh #the idea was like. pix is just kinda chillin. silly guy. i've listened to him talk a lot he just sounds like a guy #and oli is super showy and kinda uses big/fancy words because he always feels like he has to be performing for these people?#but then when he starts to relax he talks more like a person and he's chillin. he's a bit nervous he's never asked someone to do this #idk. i dont listen to oli talk a lot. slfkjsdl #this probably should have been edited but fuck it we baaaalllll #goodnight gamers hope u enjoy

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fishyfishyfishtimes · 1 year

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Warning ahead of time for talking about aquatic animal death (non-mammal), trying not to talk about food preparation (I think I did good not mentioning specific things), and non-aquatic animal death.

I like watching food videos, which is great and all until it's seafood. It's either going to be palatable to watch or activate discomfort and rage.

The only way I can watch them is if the meat is already prepared, as they should be. Except shellfish (I feel so dumb asking, but that's shrimp as well, yeah? I think yeah).

But, like, there are! So many! Videos! Preparing the seafood Too Much! One was even taking a fish straight from a river and preparing it for eating! You get what I mean? I don't want to say too much.

And because of your efforts in spreading the truth of fish (and other aquatic non-mammals) having feelings and personalities and such, I start thinking... Would there be casual videos of food preparation like this for chickens? Cows? No, no there wouldn't. Because we respect them to some kind of degree, their full preparation would be greatly distressing to watch, wouldn't it? Why is it okay with seafood? You get me?

Not to worry anon, I will tag this appropriately with animal death trigger warning tags. Though I will also have to warn anyone still reading, I will also talk about the killing of animals. A bit of an essay about fish mistreatment and the possible reasons why incoming ^^''

I feel you! I have noticed this worrying trend in society myself, so have many other much wiser fish enthusiasts and activists before me. Publicly showing the preparing of fish from the live animal to the finished dish is... creepily normalised. Especially when this would never be done to mammals! Like that pufferfish meme that was popular some years back, the one where the pufferfish eats a carrot and then moans? That clip is a part of a fuller video where said pufferfish is prepared, fully on screen, into a dish. Even the actual meme, the pufferfish biting into the carrot and moaning is saddening and disturbing to me; the pufferfish is gasping for oxygen and the chef sticks a carrot in its mouth just to show how sharp its beak is, prolonging its fear and suffering.

Something that I think explains this phenomenon, and what I've heard activists talk about, is that what most dictates how we view an animal is how we first come into contact with said animal. We tend to see animals like mammals, birds, beautiful pollinators in everyday life in contexts that tend to value them just for existing as they are, like dogs and cats being pets, songbirds singing and butterflies and bees flying from flower to flower looking pretty. (As a big arthropod fan I acknowledge that invertebrates are often overlooked and underestimated as well! And I also acknowledge that not all mammals and birds are loved equally as they should. But that's a whole other story.)

But fish? Besides aquariums, I don't think people have very many experiences with fish just existing. Many people's first real memory of seeing and interacting with fish might just be going fishing with a relative or a friend. Your first meaningful encounter with a fish and it's said fish being caught with a hook in the lip, out of the water, possibly suffocating or promptly killed to be prepared into a dish? That kind of interaction immediately normalises that fish are more of a service than a group of animals that can be appreciated just as they are. It also normalises catching and preparing of fish unlike any other animal! I'm not saying fishing is inherently horrible, but see how most people don't ever get to see a cow or a chicken being slaughtered? Yet a good chunk of people must have gone fishing at some point or another. This immediately and subconsciously tells us that it's fine to see fish being killed in front of us, because it's normal.

I think what also helps us disregard the emotions and experiences of fish when we see them be killed in front of our eyes is the fact that, as humans, we can have a hard time relating to animals that don't look or emote like we do. Of course fish feel emotions, they feel joy, sadness, anger, love, and they definitely feel terrified to be out of the water and in the hands of a predator! But they don't emote it through facial expressions, they can't scream or wail, they can't wave their limbs like a terrestrial animal in distress would, they can only squirm. The emotions they feel are real, we just don't read them as strongly as we do on other animals. (And even then humans are mighty good at anthropomorphising animals when they shouldn't. Did you know that to other primates smiling is often a threat display, but some humans have gotten hurt by primates for assuming that it's a happy smile and smiling back?) So, once again we can ignore the feelings of fish much easier when they aren't screaming in fear, or crying, or clawing to get out — out of sight, out of mind. This is most likely why some folk think of fish as living decorations, also. It's easy to overlook their personalities when you don't see them displaying their emotions loud and clear.

These two reasons are why I think it's extraordinarily important to teach people about the lives of fish! Sure, fishing will always be a thing and our tendency to look for humanlike expressions is in our DNA. But how easy will it be to disregard fish once you know that cichlids form complex social circles where everyone knows who's who and their exact relationships? How manta rays and cleaner wrasse recognise their own self in a mirror and even in pictures? How catfish talk to each other with drumming sounds? How bettas have unique personalities and enjoy playing? How some sharks like to be pet? I don't think it'll come just as naturally as before. Even one visit to an aquarium or a near body of water can be a lifechanging experience. :)

Thank you anon for presenting such an interesting ask, look how it got me talking! This is all food for thought, for me and to anyone who has gotten this far. I don't think I can ever express how much I love fish. I love their little personalities so much and they all deserve to live their lives to the fullest. I hope that perhaps some people who didn't see it before will be able to see what I see, because life is so much more fun and meaningful when you appreciate all the living things around you! Not just the meowing and barking ones.

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