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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

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Fic: The Birds and the Bees

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader) / Ellie x Riley mention

Tags/warnings: underage child overhearing sex (but it's not weird I swear), queer thoughts, Joel is such a dad, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, piv sex, some mild dirty talk, trying to stay quiet during sex.

Summary: Ellie hears mommy (you) and daddy (Joel) have sex. I guess that's the plot.

Words: 2,257

A/N: WARNING can be a bit spoilery for episodes 6 and 7! Thanks to @rambling-in-purple for reading the Ellie part to make sure it wasn't weird <3

Ellie is almost asleep when something draws her back into the real world, and for a moment she has no idea where she is. Where did these clean sheets come from, this comfortable bed, this warmth? It takes her brain a few moments to realize that she is in Jackson, the safe haven reached yesterday. Today. What time is it?

A sound makes her sit up in bed, heartbeats quickening with growing fear. She had thought this place was safe, but that sound is definitely not reassuring. She reaches for her knife on the bedside table, just as she hears the sound again.

A creak. And it's growing rhythmical. And along with it, muffled moans.

Ellie's first instinct is that there is a fight going on in the next room. A life or death struggle between Joel, you, and a deceitful Jackson resident. Or maybe the infected finally got in? Is Jackson already overrun with infected, or did a roaming band of bandits get in?

Another creak, then a louder moan that gets cut off, and it dawns on Ellie.

Oh. Oh.

Being shown around Jackson, you seemed relaxed for the first time in, well, all the months Ellie had been with you and Joel. It was nice to see you like that, and Ellie wished that Joel could unwind a little as well, but Joel wasn't a person who did that. Maria had taken you and Ellie to the house, Joel had gone to see his brother, and returned in a huff. Ellie, in clean clothes washed hair, had gushed to him about the hot shower, but his demeanor had been so dark that she had fallen quiet. Just then, you had appeared out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and Ellie had seen the looks you and Joel exchanged. You excused yourself to have an early night and took to your bedroom - the one you shared with Joel. Ellie didn't think twice about you two sharing: she had understood long ago what you were to each other, in addition to the protectors, family, you were to her.

But it's one thing to understand that two people love each other, and know what people in love with each other do, and actually hear it.

Conflicted, she lies back down, turns onto one side, wrapping the pillow around her head to muffle the sounds. It's too intimate, too private. It's wrong to listen to it.

Still, the reverberations travel through the wooden build of the house, and she feels them on her skin. Rolling onto her back again, she lets go of the pillow and stares up at the dark ceiling.

It's not the first time she's heard people having sex. She knows what's going on between the two of you and for what it's worth, she's happy for you. There is something so comforting about your obvious feelings for each other, and how they have spilled over onto her. Ellie knows that she was more or less forced upon you but since that night in the Boston QZ, a lot has happened. You're her family now, and she's happy that you and Joel can be safe and comfortable enough in your borrowed bedroom to have sex.

And it is kind of exciting to hear it, even if it's private. Ellie may be a virgin but she's not frigid. The moans she can hear must be from you, and she wonders what it is Joel is doing that's making you sound like that. Not that she wants to think of Joel like that, God no, that's just gross. The whole idea of a man sticking his dick into her feels gross. But surely a woman must be able to make another woman sound like that? Maybe she could ask you. If she wants to talk to you about sex, and that's a big if.

It hits Ellie that if you're her family now, then it would be like asking her mom about sex. And whatever is going on right now is like hearing mom and dad have sex. And that image is just too much for her teenage brain. When the bedframe starts knocking on the wall between her bedroom and yours, she sits up again and bangs her fist at it.

"Keep it down, you two, some of us are trying to sleep here!"

The noise stops at once, and she grins to herself as she imagines your aghast faces - especially Joel must look absolutely shocked.

"Serves you right," she giggles to herself before scooting down and tucking herself in. Sleepy and amused, she wonders what sex feels like. If she will ever have it. If she even wants it. Is there ever going to be anyone that she'd care to do it with? Will anyone ever find her attractive? Her thoughts stray to Riley, and how sweet it would be to share this comfortable bed with her, whispering in the night, kissing, maybe more - but she quickly brushes those thoughts away. That wound is still too fresh.

A muffled thud is heard from the other bedroom, but she doesn't care anymore. Curling up on her side, she succumbs to exhaustion and the soft mattress.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

Your heart is pounding, your mouth is dry, your breathless profanity barely audible against Joel's cheek as he's buried to the hilt in you. He was in a mood when he came back from seeing his brother, and you knew there was no point in trying to make him talk about it. Even in a huff, however, the sight of you in a towel was rare enough for him to stop and stare.

"Take a shower," you told him, seeing that all he wanted to do was pull the towel off of you, "and come to bed."

Strangely enough, he did as he was told, but even hot water wasn't enough to keep him in the shower for more than a few minutes. When he came out, naked and dripping after barely having had time to dry himself off, he joined you between the threadbare but clean sheets.

"It's been too long," he told you, breath hot against your skin, hands already cupping and squeezing and claiming. You hummed your agreement as you let him cover your mouth with yours, sucking the breath out of you as he laid on top of you, his broad frame blocking out everything else. His weight on you, his clean, naked skin against yours... it had indeed been far too long for indulgences like these. You remember stolen fucks and sleepless nights in the QZ, clothed on cold hard floors during runs, but the last time you could take your time like this? And even with all the time in the world, both of you were in a desperate hurry. He sank his thick cock into you before too long and you welcomed him deeper by wrapping your arms and legs around him. When you moaned, he covered your mouth with his large hand and grunted in your ear:

"I know, pretty girl, I know, I feel it too, but you have to stay quiet for me."

You whined into his palm, and he replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your moans as he thrust into you with a renewed fury. The bed creaked but you were too far gone, too cock-hungry to care if Ellie heard you.

Which she did, of course.

Joel froze at the banging on the wall, and he inhaled sharply when Ellie yelled out her request for silence. Mirth replacing dismay as you recognize the teasing tone of Ellie's voice, you start to tremble with held-back giggles. With a grunt, Joel heaves himself up on his elbows.

"It's not funny," he lets you know in a morose voice. You raise your hands to his cheeks, feeling the heat in them. It's too dark to see, but your tough, no nonsense man is fucking blushing.

"It is a little funny," you whisper back and pull him in for a kiss. "She's fucking with us, you do know that, right?"

"We're gonna traumatize her - "

"This is gonna traumatize her, and not everything else she has lived through and seen?" you scoff. Your hand slides around to the back of his head and grab a fistful of hair. "Wise up, Miller, and fuck me."

"We can't - "

"I swear to God, Joel, if you don't get me off, I'm gonna go naked into the street and find someone who will!"

Your threat, unfounded though it is, gets him back on the right track.

"Yeah?" he breathes in a low growl, lowering his face over your chest, his tongue licking a wet trail around your knotted nipple. "You'd let just anyone touch you? Let anyone do this to you?" He licks your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, making you arch your back as you clench your teeth against the moan threatening to spill out of you.

"Joel...!"

"Hush, my pretty," he hisses, sliding one hand to your breast and burying his fingers into the plump flesh as he lowers his mouth to your ear. "You have to stay quiet if you want me to fuck you till you cum. Can you do that?"

Your whimpered yes is followed by a choked cry when he slams into you anew, this time wrapping one arm around your thigh to get in deeper. You hold onto the bedding, the headboard, willing it to creak less as Joel picks up where he left off, doing his best to resume his devastating pace yet without causing any more noise. It's difficult, but when Joel puts his mind to something, he always follows through. He braces himself against the bed and you whine when he takes his weight off of you. You want to be deliciously crushed, taken, rendered breathless and immobile, but now you are free to rub your clit as he fucks you. Your slick walls clench around him at once.

"Fuck, that's tight," he groans above you, baring his teeth. "So fucking tight when you do that."

You stare up at him through the dusk, caress his flexed neck muscles with your half closed eyes as the pressure rises inside you. You whisper bitten off words, as if Joel needed your words to know that you are so close to exploding, imploding, the mesmerizing rise and fall that you so desperately need. He dips down to steal your breath away with a kiss and you suck eagerly on his tongue while simultaneously panting for air.

He almost slips out when you cum, your slickness and spasming muscles nearly pushing him out. You press your lips together, will yourself to swallow the sounds that threaten to come out when your body trembles under him. Your body, so sensitive all of a sudden, wants to push him away, but instead you pull him down over you and move with him, desperate and wanton.

"Cum," you beg of him in a whisper that might just as well be a scream, you have no idea as the blood roars in your ears, "cum, baby, cum in me, please cum."

Your overstimulated pussy feels the heat of his load spreading inside you when your words rush him to his climax. The strangled sound he emits is one that you've never heard from him before, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you. His heart beats rapidly against your chest, where your own heart trying to match his rhythm, and when he tries to catch his breath there's only a stutter. He's sweaty but you can smell him and it's clean, fresh perspiration. His hair is still damp, and you run your fingers through it, smelling the shampoo which no doubt is handmade of herbs by someone in Jackson. He clearly took the time to wash his hair, which surprises you.

It feels nice. Normal.

"You smell nice," you murmur to him, sniffing his sideburn demonstratively.

"You do too." He brushes his lips across your face in a light peppering of kisses, each one a lingering declaration of love on your skin. "You felt so good, baby, this was good."

You hum softly as he slides out, slick and seed trailing in the wake of his softening cock.

"Might want to go again in a minute," you warn him with a happy smile that you hope he can hear, even if he can't see it. Joel groans as he rolls over onto his back next to you.

"Too old for twice in one night."

You chuckle, feeling the post-coital relaxation weighing you down in the most delicious way. Once was definitely enough. But you wish that every night could be like this.

"You think she's still awake?" Joel asks, and for a moment you have no idea who he's talking about. You had quite forgotten that the two of you were not alone in the house.

"I'll talk to her in the morning," you offer with a yawn. "Woman to woman."

"And tell her what?" Joel sounds both cynical and troubled, which amuses you greatly.

"About the birds and the bees," you giggle, shoving him playfully. "And what happens when two adults like each other very much."

He scoffs but takes your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss before placing it over his heart. The conversation is over for his part, so you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

#the last of us fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #my fic

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blacktofade · 2 months

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Gemtho Fortnight Day 6

Prompt: Gemtho prompt: RPF, Etho actually gives Gem his address (or a PO box maybe) so she can send him a Christmas gift, they start sending goofy penpal letters and trinkets back and forth, but it soon becomes extremely horny letters and perhaps physical nudes.

cw: rpf

“I went to the post office yesterday,” Etho says instead of hello when Gem answers the Discord call.

His voice is rough and strangely echoed, like he’s halfway to taking a sip of the first coffee of his day.

It’s early for him. Gem doesn’t usually see any sign of him until later in the afternoon, and her stomach jolts with anticipation.

“Get anything good?” she asks, feigning innocence, and Etho grunts.

“You’re the only one with my address.”

It’s not Etho’s address, it’s a PO box in Edmonton he’s kept open for months now.

It had started as a joke with Gem threatening to find him to send him a mic stand, but she’d only brought it up once, and yet a week later, Etho had dropped the address into her DMs. Nothing else, just the address, and Gem had taken it and ran.

She’d sent the mic stand, not that she expected him to use it, but she’d also included a Funko Pop of Kakashi, just because she wasn’t about to miss the opportunity.

Eventually, he’d DMed her a photo of the same desk setup that she’d seen before, but the tissue box was gone, replaced with the stand, and near his monitor was the ridiculous Funko figure.

It had made her feel strangely powerful.

She’d started sending him things regularly, not expecting him to continue paying for the space month after month, but nothing had ever been returned to her. It all made it to him.

She’d sent him Easter candy she’d found in the back of a pharmacy, almost a year out of date. She’d sent him an old Sega game with no label from a flea market. She’d sent him a little piece of her soul in the form of a postcard from Boston, wish you were here scribbled on the back.

Later in the year when she’d got home from Twitch Con, she’d sent him a signed photo of Bdubs. She’d got it from John as a joke after too many drinks in the California sun, when they’d both laughed to the point of tears at the thought of Etho opening it.

And a week later Etho had sent her a photo of it framed and sitting on the shelf behind his desk.

It was around that time she’d realized he was doing it for her — the whole PO box setup, his strangely candid responses. He was letting her sneak her way into his life.

Which leads to now and the reason why her palms are sweating.

“Have you opened it yet?” she asks and she hears a creak, like he’s leaning back in his chair.

“I opened it last night.”

Gem swallows, tugging anxiously at the hem of her sweater. “Am I wildly off-base?”

“Depends what reaction you were expecting from me.”

Gem takes a breath. “What reaction did I get?”

“I'm only human,” Etho tells her and Gem shuts her eyes and thinks she understands.

The envelope she'd mailed him had contained Polaroids. The kind of Polaroids she's never sent anyone else, the kind she's never wanted to take before.

She can imagine him at his desk, tipping out the contents and sitting in stunned silence. She can imagine him holding one of the photos — maybe the one of her topless, one hand resting on her ribs, face turned away from the camera but hair unmistakable — touching himself and knowing they'd be having this conversation later.

“That's the reaction I was hoping for,” Gem admits quietly.

“I'm going to keep the PO box open a little while longer,” Etho tells her, and it feels like an aside until he adds, “if you would like to send more.”

He says it like he's doing her a favor, but Gem feels breathless.

“Yeah,” she says, too quick to be anything but eager. “I can do that.”

“I'm also going to need your address.”

Gem's mouth is suddenly dry.

She can do that, too.

#gemtho fortnight #fic

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madisonfilmss · 1 year

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I Am Yours - austin x reader

Inspired by I Am Yours by Andy Grammer

You would always be proud of Austin for chasing his dreams. You were proud to have a front row seat to his life changing. Most of the time. It was days like this you feel unworthy to be loved by Austin. It’s currently 10:30 your time which means it’s about 6:00 am Australia time. You haven’t been able to talk to him since yesterday morning due to your conflicting schedules. You would have gone with him to Australia but you had business back home you had to be present for.

You have a tendency to overthink the littlest things, not just with your boyfriend but in general. If someone’s tone is off, you notice it and then think about it for the next month so not talking to Austin for as long as you have makes you believe the worst.

He’s found somebody else.

I should have gone with him.

He forgot about me.

Your phone rings and you look to see Austin’s contact photo flash on the screen. Your mood is ruined now. He’s gonna pick up on it. You can’t do it right now. You decline the call hoping to pull yourself together but Austin doesn’t give you the chance because he calls you back immediately.

There’s nothing you can do because you know if you decline it again, he’s gonna be upset with you because you aren’t answering his calls.

You slide your finger across the screen, his bright smile lighting up the screen. You decided to keep the phone laying on your desk, hoping to gain your composure before having Austin see you upset.

“Hi love.” Austin says as the phone call connects.

“Hi love.” you reply

“Where’s my girl?” he asks curiously

“I have a lot of work to do tonight, babe. I’m so sorry.”

Honestly you were doing whatever possible to get him to hang up. You wanted to overthink in peace. Maybe even sob into a pint of ice cream,

“I know you and I know that’s a lie. You always make sure to have your work done just in case I call you.”

Damn it. He knows you too damn well.

“Not to mention, you haven’t made eye contact with me once. You only do that when you’re thinking. When you’re thinking, I lose my girl.”

“Austin, I’m fine.” you say trying to get him to focus on something other than you.

“Hey, no, we don’t do that. Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth. If it’s on your mind, I would really like to be let in so I am able to help you. I understand if you don’t want to tell me everything right away. All I ask is for a little insight. It doesn’t have to be much.”

“I understand.” you say. You take a moment to finally make eye contact with him. You realize what people mean when they say “Eyes are the windows to the soul.” As you look at Austin, you realize that his soul is made up entirely of you.

What are you doing? Why aren’t you talking to him? He’s here for you.

“If you need a minute, I’m happy to just sit here with you. You are allowed to tell me as little or as much as you would like. Take all the time you need.”

You nod before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath,

“It’s just– I’m not there with you and the time difference and the headlines and gossip. It makes me feel like you’re going to forget me. I’ve seen the paparazzi photos, Austin. You and Olivia look pretty damn cozy.” you take a breath trying to calm yourself down.

You didn’t realize how upset you actually were about this whole situation.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.” you say as you make eye contact with Austin.

“Love, you have every right to be upset. I completely understand. Would I like you here by my side every minute? Yes. Do I wish when I got anxious before press and events you were by my side? Yes. Do I wish afterwards it was just the two of us? More than anything.”

“Austin, please.” you practically beg him. You already feel bad enough not being there with him.

“Just let me finish. There is a point to this. I promise.” he says.

You look at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I also know that you are kicking ass back at home and as much as I wish you were here with me, I could not be more proud of you.”

Your eyes were welling with tears.

“For years I have been lost. Lost without you. I didn’t understand what my purpose was in this life. But I know who I am now. I am yours.”

You were full on sobbing now.

“I am yours now and always. I wouldn’t dream to be anything more. You take my breath away every time. I honestly still can’t believe it when you say you’re mine.”

This distance was hard on both of you but moments like this makes you stop and realize that you don’t want anybody else.

“Love, I don’t think you will ever truly know how much you saved me. It was the first time that you smiled at me. I knew right then that I was put on this earth to love you.”

“I will tell you that as much as I need to in order for you to believe it. I love you so much.”

“I love you more than you know.”

You were going to bed that night wondering how you got so lucky to be loved by Austin.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler elvis #austin butler fanfic

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tender-rosiey · 2 years

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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐒 | gojo x f!reader

| pt 6 | - | pt 7 | — [SERIES MASTERLIST]

something has to be wrong with gojo.

he is sweating and for the first time in a long while is actually nervous. he doesn’t know why, but the only thing he knows is that you guys are going on a date today and he is super excited, yet nervous.

it was as if it was just yesterday when he was only doing it for “research” but now he feels like everything you do affects him in a way he can’t give justice to its description. if had to put it into words though then he feels like his chest can burst at any moment and that he just has the strong urge to hold you, but he realizes that it’s not yet.

he can’t do any of that just yet.

you, thankfully after two months of platonic dates and begging, considered him a friend and someone you can joke with freely and smile without glaring daggers at him.

he was so sure back than that if looks could kill, every time you noticed him he would be dead 17 times over along with his whole lineage.

“hello, pretty lady!” you hear him yell and look back to see him waving his hand around.

you give him a small smile before greeting him back, “hey gojo; what’s up?”

he takes a seat beside you, “oh nothing! I am supposedly on a date with a an absolutely attractive lady; have you seen her anywhere?”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

he rolls his eyes, whining, “you must’ve at least caught a glimpse of her in the windows.”

at that you quirk an eyebrow, “how exactly?”

“don’t you see your reflection in windows?”

you smack his shoulder lightly and he laughs, “I am very charming, I know,” he boasts before calling for the waiter.

you both order what you want and are now left to each other’s company.

“there is something on my mind,” he asks and you hum for him to continue, “how did you convince the elders to cancel the marriage?”

you recall the events before laughing, “I don’t think you want to know.”

“but I do!!”

“okay, hold your horses, kiddo,” you say.

“I am literally older than you; you’re pretty rude,” he grumbles.

at that time, the both of you were very much at each other’s throat and it was more than obvious.

you went to the elders one day, fuming and at your limit with that asshole.

“I demand a divorce,” you say, your words clear and sharp.

the old men gaped, eyes widening at your confidence and rather brazen attitude.

your grandfather is the one to speak up, “ you seem to have lost your manners in the time you spent with that imbecile of a kid, y/n.”

“don’t test me, old man; the only reason I am not chopping your head off is my dad.”

your father was always against whatever the elders decided, but because of his father, he was rendered useless.

“if you don’t let me divorce him; I swear to you, you will regret it.”

“what could a frail and weak woman like yourself do?” you hear one of the elders say with the others joining him with laughter.

that day, you left the room with divorce papers, and left behind 13 injured elders who dare not speak your name if questioned how they were hurt.

“that’s badass! like super cool!” gojo muses as he laughs, imagining the scene.

you take a sip of your drink, “obviously; you should’ve seen their faces.”

his laughter quiets down, “but really, that’s pretty cool of you; how did you not get an execution?

“threatened them,” you say, continuing to sip on your drink.

gojo waits a bit before talking, “I really wish that we would’ve been by each other side back then, like actually and by our decisions,” he says softly like it’s a secret between the both of you.

you aren’t used to him being like this, not one bit so you flick his forehead, “what’s in the past, stays in the past; we can’t change it. we can only focus on the future.”

he rubs his forehead, half-heartedly glaring at you.

gojo nods before his hand itches towards yours slowly, asking for permission.

he feels his heart do a little dance when you intertwine your pinkies because as small as the actions and touch is, it still means something and it’s proof that you guys have finally moved forward in your relationship.

a little part of him now feels guilty, isn’t he leading you on?

another part of him thinks that he isn’t.

why? because he already got all that he needs to know long ago, then what’s he waiting for?

is he unable to break it to you? especially after you finally let him in?

or is he falling for you?

he wants to shake his head at the thought, to deny it because as empathetic as he can get at times, he knows better than to let strong emotions take over his being.

he decides that he just considers you someone he can trust and rely on, a friend.

he also knows that if he continues falling for you then there’s no way out.

gojo starts seeing you in every part of his life after that date, thinking about you and how things would’ve been if you guys were together all this while.

how would it have been if you spent 9 years in love? where would the both of you be now? would it feel even better than this? is there any better?

would all your dates be filled with laughter and light-hearted talk that makes you both forget about the corrupted world you’re living in?

the strongest knows love is a twisted curse, but he can’t help but yearn for yours even silently.

“what’s got your mind in a twist, gojo?” he hears your voice, now his body slightly tenses but then quickly relaxes after it.

he was sitting on top of the jujutsu building, silently wondering how you knew he would be here but quickly pushes it to the back of his mind.

he laughs, “I am thinking about how pretty you are.”

“I will punch you.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that what he told you is the truth. he is sure that you would dismiss it even if he assured you that he isn’t just flirting.

gojo is knocked back to reality when you sit beside him, “the kids are getting really strong; I am proud that our hard word is paying off.”

“you mean, MY hardwork. I am the main teacher,” he interjects.

you scoff, “you are barely here, you ass.”

silence fills the air and gojo decides that he needs to tell you about everything before you find out in an uglier way.

“y/n, I—“

“gojo, I need you to come to the clinic,” shoko shows up and catches the both of you.

he grumbles, “is it urgent?”

she nods, before she disappears, leaving the sound of her clicking heels.

you usher him to go and he does as told, soon after they are at the clinic.

“I can’t believe you!” she yells and gojo can already predict what she is mad about.

he sighs, “listen, I know—“

“no you don’t!”

his eyebrows furrow, why has everyone been cutting him off lately?

“you lied to me.”

“listen shoko, I know I did, but I was going to tell you anyways.”

“when?” she pressures, “after you get the ‘information’ you want from y/n?”

her heels click harshly on the floor as she is now face to face him him, “this is taking advantage of her.”

“well, I was going to tell her that all about it today, until you cut me off that is.”

shoko is speechless for a moment, “you don’t just tell people that! how do you think she will react?”

“that wasn’t the only thing I was going to tell her about,” he mumbles.

shoko quirks a brow, tone rather challenging, “oh? what were you going to tell her then?”

“you will find out sooner or later,” he concludes before stepping towards the door.

“gojo, don’t fuck it up even more.”

he nods, “you can trust me.”

soon, he is reunited with you on the roof once again.

“Oooo, what’s got your mind in a twist, pretty lady?” he inquires and you huff.

you look at him, dead in the eyes or at least blindfold, “dumb ways to kill gojo satoru.”

“wow, okay.”

“oh yeah! gojo,” you call, and for some reason his heart now flutters when you call his name and he wonders if that fluttering will feel even stronger when you call him by his first name, “why do you wear a blindfold now?”

he laughs, before raising his hands in quotations, “if you stuck around then you would’ve found out.”

“well yeah, but now I am asking so answer me.”

he takes a seat beside you once again, leaning pretty close, “so demanding.”

you swat him away, “just answer the question,” and ignoring the very offended face he is sporting.

he takes his blindfold off and you’re now face to face with his crystalline blue orbs that seemed to capture the entire sky in them.

“why do you think so?” he asks

you hold your chin in a thinking manner before snapping your fingers, “because—“ he anticipates your answer, “children are scared of it!”

he deflates, visibly so too, “no, it’s because it get overbearing having to see everything all at once, all the time.”

“poor you, I guess.”

he grumbles, “and they say I am not empathetic!”

your laughs rings through his head, and he doesn’t want to forget that sound.

will you laugh the same after he tells you the truth of the situation or will those eyes learn to hate him with great passion all over again?

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @sagejin @evalynne @shuxjodie @amii-babii @literaturememesfordummies @greeniegreengreen @mykyoon @arezhera @carirosesg @akazxii @waosobii @aeanya

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littledead-ridinghood · 2 years

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okay, on my last meta I said Bruce has made Jason cry before and shown a lack of remorse for the fact as he does in the webtoon, and @tumblingxelian asked if they could see my "crying Jason" folder for their comic analysis videos (which go watch them!!! They're very good and break down misconceptions of characters usually focusing around Talia Al Ghul, Jason Todd, and Stephanie Brown). Specifically, the ones where bruce makes Jason cry. There's a 10-panel limit so this will be two parts split up between part one: Adult Jason and Part Two: Child Jason. These panels are either because Bruce made him cry or Bruce is in relation to the problem of why Jason is crying (think Lost Days which will be in the next part).

---------

Red Hood: Outlaws webtoon; episode 10, "Like Father, Like Son"

Shockingly, this is not the interaction that sparked so much controversy over the last couple of days. People are more so focused on Jason's Robin portrayal and the modern version of "he's another speck of dirt that belongs in the sewer" dialogue (no that's not what bruce said in the webtoon, for transparency, but that's what the toddler quote reminded me of. Bruce, when really mad at Jason always circles back to him being "dirty" and a "destined criminal" which I can write a whole think piece about if anyone cares(please)). As I said yesterday, I have had and still have no plans to read this story, the summary never interested me when announced and now I'm scared, so, grain of salt, people!

Roughly, Bruce and Jason get into an argument over the outlaws incompetently breaking laws. To which Bruce treats Jason like how a sexist pig of a man treats a woman when upset (i.e. "are you on your period?") It isn't later revealed until the end of the story (about 6-7 panels later) that yes, Jason was in fact crying underneath his helmet for the majority of his interaction with Bruce.

Classic Under the Red Hood monologue. Bruce didn't make Jason purposefully cry here, he, they, are both just....really goin' through it. Jason is crying, Bruce can't even look at him out of guilt and shame. I don't think this one needs much explanation, Jason would rather die than live with the Joker continuing to wreak havoc, and if Bruce doesn't do it, that's fine, he will, but if that bothers the man then he's gonna have to kill his resurrected son (spoilers: He does)

Remember, folks! We end this monologue with a flayed open and dead Jason!

This one I didn't realize Jason was crying because the panel's so small on the actual page until a different person pointed it out and I was like "Holy Fuck He Is! *screenshot*"

This one comes from Event Levithan (2020) where Bruce asked for Jason's help with the mass killings that have been going on around the world until Bruce reveals his hand and accuses Jay of being the mastermind behind the whole plot. The idea that Bruce was going off of was that Jason was blacking out and doing it out of grief over Roy's demise or something. Not a strong case. But, yes, this takes place in the continuity when Jason is Super DisownedTM. When Bruce finds him I'm pretty sure Jason says something along the lines of "I'm surprised you want my help" (it's been a minute). Once again, Jason's fully prepared to ignore his emotional grief and work placidly with Bruce's team. He just wanted to help Bruce on this case before Bruce once again takes that trust and shatters it (Ex: Batman and Robin N52 #20, iykyk). You can see the dark tear on the black part of his mask when he realizes and questions Bruce about what he actually wants with him. Bruce then sends his detective team off to apprehend Jason, who escapes because even if this story has super janky dialogue and unclear art, at least we get competent Jason.

This is from Jason's White Knight spin-off. Total Elseworld, but the theme carries over, Bruce, this time in relation, making Jason cry. The dude's kinda fucked up from being tortured for, what is it here, 3 months? Jason gets tortured a lot, kind of a multiversal constant for the man. You know that trope in sportsball movies where the guy's like "I could've gone pro if not for XYZ injury and my dreams were shattered. Don't end up like me. Don't play this game; it's a waste of time!" before becoming the gruff reluctant mentor to said child? That's Jason's characterization here, but, hey, at least he acknowledges he needs help. Again, Jason is only the sanest bat because he's the only one, elseworld and canon, who I've ever seen remark on the fact that their person is so entirely messed up, sick in the head, and needs help. All the other bats are like "I'm Fine!" when they're clearly not fine. So, A for effort. Again, very UtRH monologue, more so having a breakdown in relation to bruce rather than bruce causing it. He looks so young and forlorn in the second to last panel, and so alone in the last :(

This is Scott's interpretation of UtRH in RHatO V1. Very pretty Jason, not what happened. This was not a scene, and the rest of this scene completely contradicts Jason's main goal in UtRH, but I can't resist a crying Jason panel. He's debating shooting Bruce, he won't, but this one, ONE, panel of Lobdell's UtRH retcon does, I feel, accurately represent Jason's feelings during his Lost Days/UtRH phase. Think of him putting the bomb underneath the Batmobile. He says he wants Bruce to die, but every time he has the ability to do it, Jason is hit with these overwhelming feelings of "No, I *Don't* want Bruce to die! I just want him to understand!" That's why UtRH is so intriguing to read because yes, Jason primary goal is to control crime because a utopia of no crime is impossible. Yes, he's also an 18-year-old who died alone, came back alone, and didn't legitimately regain his ability to function until late 16-early 17 with the whole new trauma of the pit. You gotta find that sweet spot of morality & philosophy juxtaposed against feelings & trauma. Very Man vs. God. Yes, he brought Gotham's criminal world to his knees. Yes, to Jason, he literally died like 18 months earlier whereas everyone else got a nice 3 years to process his death and move on.

Bonus classic "Jason is clearly devasted but not crying" panels:

Hey! remember earlier when I mentioned Batman and Robin N52 #20? Ya, that's this one! I love using it in metas because I feel it's often forgotten about. This is after the Death of the Family arc where the Joker says he cut off the bats' faces with a razor blade and was going to force feed it to them as well as Dick forced to go undercover by Bruce (everyone else thinks he's dead), and Damian's death arc. In RHatO V1, the clown almost kills Jason again via acid to the face, so he's in a coma having unreliable narration within fever dreams until he has a heart-to-heart with subconscious Bruce. He wakes up and has a heart-to-heart with Real Bruce where they bury the hatchet (Jason took all the blame for everything in their relationship (Bruce! slit! his! throat!)). Later, when Bruce drops Jason off in front of his murder location, that whole interaction reads Very emotionally manipulative and prime-y (which is why I can take neither the hug with dream or real Bruce with love. Again, bitchful Killjoy. sorry). I could talk about this forever! He's so heartbroken! On the next page Jason says "how he was ready to put everything behind him." and that he "was done looking back." Anyway, they fight. Jason throws the first punch and kinda sorta halfway misses and Bruce responds with a whammy to the jaw. Hitting him into the dirt in the same spot the joker did. It comes to light, implicitly, that Bruce didn't even want Jason there to reveal his murder, but because he knew it would trigger Jason to lash out at him. He was using Jason as a tool to punish himself. Jason commits mental suicide after this; enter: amnesia arc.

Again, no tears. But they're implied.

I wanted to put the entirety of RHatO V2 #25 here, but, because that is not possible, instead y'all get this third of a page where Jason's literally given up and dropped into unconsciousness to which Bruce finally stops beating him. ahhh family, you know, dragging them around like trash because you think they did something but also have a shit tone of pent-up anger over your failed wedding and the scapegoat just happens to get caught in the crossfire of everything, and oh! Look! It looks like you beat your kid to death with your bare hands! Oh My God! Jason predominantly doesn't fight back during this, hardly even defends himself. Jason doesn't cry when he's taking or taken hits. He just rolls with them. Whether he thinks he deserves it, taking the hits for someone else and wants to be a strong protector, and/or he grew u getting beat around a lot so he's used to it/doesn't want to give [them] what they want/knows it'll only make it worse/etc etc. (*whispers* he's a child of severe abuse).

Jason is characterized as someone who is super smart, logical, and pragmatic, but he also acts with his heart a lot. He wears his helmet because as much as he tries to hide his true feelings, he has never been able to consistently hide them from his face and sleeve. Jason gets pulled in multiple directions by who he is and by what a bat is supposed to be, and I don't mean that just kill or no kill. That is not the only line that isolates him from the other. Part is due that the majority of the bats joined and formed in the wake of his death, but also a lot of his internal working seem very not bat-stereotype no matter how much his external is. I will always go back to his freedom of emotional expression on this as it's such a huge part of his character that other bats constantly rag on. For another example, for as many trust issues he has and as many times his trust has been broken, Jason, as opposed to many of the other bats, consistently puts himself back out there to trust people again and again, even if it's the same people who have abused that trust. Jason continues to try to fix things with Bruce, he continues to help people who have tried to kill him before, multiple times even (Think Duela and Suzie Sue), he tells his non-superhero friends who he is (think isabella in V1 who really wanted that openness from Jason and he gave it to here), and he continuously places complete and utter absolute trust in the teams he runs with. Artemis even said, roughly, in V2, that "as much as he tries to pretend he doesn't, Jason cares a lot. Takes every hit to the heart." And that's just a whole long-winded way of saying I like that Jason cries a lot because that emotional rawness of overwhelming emotion is really cathartic to read. I've read metas and commentary on it where people complain that Jason cries too much and it makes him pathetic and weak. I disagree. Jason has always just been like that, and this segues into Part Two! Child Jason crying about Bruce

#i'm proud of that ending lead into the next part #bruce wayne #jason todd #jason todd meta

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maddipoof · 1 year

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Room 217

Steve and his girlfriend just having a lovely moment in a hotel. Lots of banter, lots of teasing, every old woman wants Steve to propose, like yesterday, and John Mellencamp. CWs: No y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns and there are no descriptions besides wet hair. Old ladies being weird, mentions of skiing and they have a dog. Some references to the shining as well, also I've never been to colorado so if i get the 2 things I said about it wrong you have my endless apologies. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll add it here, also if you're any kind if enby and you would rather this with any other pronouns, as a fellow gender blender demifemme feels right atm, I'm more than happy to oblige and repost with whatever you'd prefer.

March, 1992

Steve thought he’d pay a visit to the nice ladies in the mailroom that afternoon after work, he’d been having a pretty good day so far, why not share the joy? “Hello, ladies. How’s today been treatin’ you two?” he asked them over the counter.

“Not too busy, thank you for asking. Always so charming isn’t he?” Mrs. Smith asked Mrs. Lowe, both their white hairs deflating by now from the curled, permed coifs they shaped and gelled and sprayed every morning.

“Oh yes, oh, and Steve, we saw your girl this morning. Looking lovely as ever.”

“Mhm, we saw her, but no ring.” Mrs. Smith reminded him again, twisting her own 2 carat diamond around her finger. Just 2 weeks ago she told him the whole story about it, how Mr. Smith scrimped and saved for ages to afford it, including selling his favorite tractor, to which they both side eyed his BMW through the window.

“Oh, Deirdre, didn’t you see her with a ring catalog this morning?” Mrs. Lowe asked her, both of them poorly hiding their schemes.

“I do think I did. I’d take notice of these things if I were you, Steve. How long have you been together again?”

“I’ve known her for 9 years, we’ve been together for 5, Mrs. Smith.” He wasn’t hurt by them asking again, in fact he expected it, as much as his tone expressed it. “And yes, I do notice, which is why I’ve been coming home so late these last few days, I need a bit more than 30 hours a week to afford this place and a ring.”

He saw the sneaky smiles on their faces as they wheeled around in their office chairs to get his mail. A few deliveries and a blush colored envelope with a floral postage stamp in the corner, a wax seal on the front. “Ooh, a wedding invitation?” Mrs. Lowe teased.

Steve nodded as he read the return address, “Looks like it’s from her cousin.” He checked his wrist watch and realized his girlfriend must have been expecting him, “I better be going, don’t want to be late for dinner.”

“Oh, you two going out?”

“No, staying in tonight, making risotto.”

Mrs. Smith gasped, “My recipe?”

“I think so.”

“Oh you watch out for that one, Steve, I used that recipe once and 9 months later I had Joey and Hannah,” Mrs. Lowe added.

Steve huffed a laugh. “You are bad.”

“Watch it Harrington.” “It’s very easy for mail to get lost down here.” “Packages stolen,” they joked back before waving him upstairs and calling for him to send their hellos to his girl.

“Hey, gorgeous, where you at?” He finally got to the fifth floor and held the door open with his foot while he took the keys out of the knob. “We got a fuck ton of mail.”

But he didn’t see any sign of her or their dog, Leo, a big black lab, anywhere. “Babe?” He walked further into the kitchen of their cramped apartment. Leo’s leash was gone too, but there was a scratchy note left on the counter, probably left in a rush accounting for the scribbly handwriting.

Hello my love, I hope you had a wonderful day. I was going to wait for you but Leo got antsy so I’m taking him for a walk. We’ll be back by 6:30 I promise —xoxo

It was already 6:25, and by the time he was worried enough to grab his sweatshirt and go out to look for her, there was already an incessant scratching at the door and a giggle of ‘I’m trying, I’m trying. Relax buddy, I gotta get my keys.’

It clearly sounded like a struggle, Steve assumed her keys must have been deeper in her pocket than she remembered. He could have waited and let her unlock the door herself, but the excitement to see her was too much to bear. Also because he didn’t want any complaints from the landlord about scratched paint on the door.

He heard her surprised little gasp when the handle turned from the other side, ‘Is Stevie home?’ He heard Leo make some sound like E.T. would have made in response, as well as the slamming of his tail on her leg.

“It’s 6:30.”

“What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you my beautiful, gorgeous, angel of a darling? Every hour in your absence has been agony.’ And here I was, thinking you were such a romantic.” She hung the leash up while Leo was shoving himself against Steve’s leg to get more attention and pets. She was about to walk out of the teeny tiny foyer after taking her shoes off but Steve caught her by the arm before she got the chance. Leo got out of the way while he pulled her shoulder into his chest, both hands on the other one furthest from him.

“Hello,” and she expected his usual schtick of saying everything she said back to her, a little teasing but she could always hear the truth underneath. “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

“Steve,” she groaned and pushed him off of her and into the coats, “You’re supposed to love me, not kill me. I don’t even have six fingers on my right hand.” She got louder as she walked further away, “And besides, you’re much more of a Westley anyway.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“How so? Wait, farm boy Westley or Pirate Westley?”

“Oh, Pirate Westley, definitely.”

He silently shooed her out of the kitchen and fed Leo before washing his hands and starting on their own dinner while she explained.

“I don’t know, you just love too much to be an Inigo, too smart to be him, also you know I love you but you have like zero loyalty to your father and you shouldn’t anyway, so definitely a Westley.”

“Like I’d carry you through the fire swamp and everything?”

“And everything.” Leo laid at her feet while she went through the mail on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions that were probably older than her since it was a hand-me-down from Hopper when he moved in with Joyce at the same time they moved into their apartment. A sparkling seal caught her eye. “A wedding invitation?”

“I was waiting for you to open it, I think it’s from your cousin.”

“Hm. Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Deanna Sampson cordially invite you to a renewal of their vows, the 12th of December, 1992, Colorado Springs, Colorado. It’s at a hotel, like the Shining.”

“Oh that cousin?” The renewal of vows is what caught his attention. “Must be a small venue then.”

“Not funny, Steven,” she didn’t take her eyes off her lap where she flipped through the details of the invitation but the slight quirk of her lip that Steve was always able to clock betrayed her amusement. A wedding with ample opportunity for skiing, her cousin’s husband, and now by extension her cousin, are kind of rich, at least his family is, so they're renting the biggest, nicest, fanciest lodge for the day and having the wedding and reception there. “I’d totally have a small wedding first with just the people I want there then a bigger one for all the people that are mad they didn’t make the cut.”

“Who’d be at this wedding? The small one.”

“Dustin, Eddie, Robin, the kids, Joyce and Hopper, and maybe my parents, I haven't decided.”

He knew he was pushing his luck asking this, but the ladies of the mail room planted a strong idea in his head and he just couldn’t let it go. “I’m not there?” but he stayed facing the near boiling pot.

“I thought you were a given,” She said so casually. Only looking at him when the clatter of the spoon falling on the floor pulled her attention his way. They’d discussed it before, in passing mostly. Saying a marriage and a family is something they both want, but he’d never heard her say it like that. Like marrying him is the only option she’d ever choose. Like he’s always going to be the obvious choice. “So we’re going?”

“Hm?”

“To the wedding?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Deanna’s the best.”

December, 1992

They arrived two days before the wedding, Steve wanted to get more use out of his skis. She liked them because the bottoms were bright pink and she could find him anywhere. Checking in was a bear though. The mailroom part 2 for him since y/n was at a payphone to check in with Dustin about Leo.

“How can I help you, sir?” The woman who looked to be around Joyce’s age asked.

“Uh, I’d like to check in, please. Should be under Harrington.”

She scrolled through the system to find it, “Oh yes, you’re here for the wedding? Bride or groom?”

“Bride, she’s cousins with my-”

“You’re wife? I’ll get you an extra key then, one for both of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay, room 217.”

“Thank you.”

***

“God, I’m exhausted.” Y/n threw herself down on the bed, wet hair and all. Everything about this room was so much bigger than their apartment. The bed, the bathtub; the kitchen was smaller though, but there was a much bigger space as a sort of living room. The fake fire was going and the tv above it was stuck on one of those MTV channels, the ones that only play music with slideshows of various album covers, because they couldn’t figure out the remote. She called the lobby about it and found Steve must have made quite an impression in the few days they’ve been there. “Hi, we’re in room 217, our remote kind of broke and it’s stuck on one channel.” “217, hmm… Oh you must be Steve’s wife, he’s quite the charmer down here.” “He usually is. Um, is there anyone who can help us with this?” “Unfortunately not at the moment, but we can send someone up first thing in the morning, just give us a ring and we’ll send maintenance right up there.” “Will do, thank you.” “Mhm, have a lovely night Mrs. Harrington.” “You as well.”

Steve came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam surrounding him and a fluffy, white towel around his hips. “Steve?”

“Hm?” But his main focus was on digging through his drawers for pajamas.

“Have you been telling everyone in the lobby I’m your wife?”

He quickly straightened with his sweatpants clutched tight to his chest. “No-uh…no. They just assumed and, y’know like, who’d pass up a chance to have such a total knockout babe for a wife, right? So I just-didn’t correct them.”

“Mhm,” the look in her eyes feigned skepticism, but she really didn’t mind, she thought it was cute. “Can’t flirt your way out of this one, Harrington.”

“No flirting, just truthing.” He knew even that wouldn’t save him from his fate, her thinking he’s such a dork and then most likely going home to tell Robin all about it. He needed to think fast before she rolled over on the bed and picked up the phone to dial Robin’s number, he thought he could see her fingers already twitching in its direction. The song changed and while the intro played and he rushed to get dressed, inspiration struck. He held his hand out for her hoping she’d get the hint.

“What?”

“Come dance with me.”

“This is hardly a danceable song,” she swung her legs over the side.

“It’s John Mellencamp, of course it’s danceable.” Steve pulled her up by the hand even though she was already going to walk over.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Sh, sh, sh, let me listen.” He held their joined hands in the air, her left in his right, and his other was on her waist, swaying side to side and rotating around in a circle.

“You dance like such a dad,” she half whispered, half giggled.

“I’m a great dancer.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Could you listen to the song please, they’re like us,” and he started mouthing the words out with his breath.

A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane; Two American kids growing up in the heart land

“Steve, we’re from Indiana.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s not the heartland.”

“I’m pretty sure the heartland is all of the midwest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jack, he's gonna be a football star; Diane's debutante, backseat of Jacky's car

“You played basketball and swam, those are like the furthest things from football.”

“You’re really draining all the fun out of this,” but she could feel the rumbles of his laugh with her ear pressed to his sternum.

“And I’m not a debutante and we’ve never done anything in the back of your car.”

“The point that you’re purposely missing is that they’re in love.”

“I know they’re in love, but I’m in love-er with you.”

“Is that the right way to say that? Not ‘more in love?’”

“Well now look who’s being willingly obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, you’re obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” He rested his head on top of hers, his eyes stuck on her bare fingers. “But those things can coexist.”

“Steve!”

This was not a request but I thought of it at work because all we listen to is fm radio and everyday John Tesh makes me want to strangle myself with receipt paper. But I had the idea and I thought it was cute, and as always, it got way out of hand. So here, have my first complete Steve Harrington one shot <3

Tagging some babes because I love you and I want to annoy you all @beezywriting @haydipoof @sw34terw34ther @esperisdrunkinwonderland @avipoof @loving-and-dreaming @katsu28 @manyfandomsfanvergent and if i think of anyone else and they don't get to this before I get to them <3

#Definitely did not choose that gif solely for its bbg qualities #pfft that'd be ridiculous #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #harrington #steve harrington x fem #Steve harrington fluff #ever have that moment when you look at a word so much it looks wrong #I just had a crisis thinking I spelt harrington wrong #steve stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things one shot #stranger things fluff #Dell's fics

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lyutenw · 1 year

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ACOD| Chapter I

"How much longer do I have to wait? Are we there yet?" Aria had spent the last 6 days trapped in a moving prison. The ship had departed the Kingdom of Celenial just before dawn 6 days ago, moving through the abyss of the sea to Oceana, the land of promises.

"We are almost at the port, princess," a young maid muttered, her brown eyes shining while watching the beautiful land of Oceana grow closer. Oceana had been a dream for everyone in Celenial. Who wouldn't dream of a kingdom where you don't have to starve to live another day, if the famines were so much as kind to you. In Celenial only the royal family and the aristocrat families were protected from the angry gods that ruled it.

Aria yawned and looked around her small room; there were dresses and jewelry everywhere, all sprawled out waiting for her decision on which to wear to meet her future husband. Her two maids had practically become one with the window and had given up on helping her get dressed.

She got up from the bed, her whole body aching from sleeping 5 nights to a hard mattress. Her long tule nightgown hanged from her body, she had lost so much weight in the last month. She didn't want to marry him. Not as a sacrifice to a man he didn't know. Her whole life she had longed for freedom, but now she would be the exact opposite; a married princess, a mere instrument to stop the war between the two countries, a mere vessel to bear a child.

"Let us undress you, princess," the two maidens bowed and inched closer to Aria. Aria lifted her hand in the air, stopping them from doing anything and signaling them to get back.

"It's okay, I will do it myself, give me some privacy." The maids looked at each other and slowly inched towards the door, exchanging puzzled glances; the princess had never been one to do things herself.

Once the maids closed the wooden door behind her with a creak, Aria could finally breathe freely again. She let her nightgown slip from her slender body and down to her cold feet. There was a broken mirror at the corner of the dimply lit room, and she caught a glimpse of herself from the back. Her muscles were flexed, her whole body on some imaginary alarm, filled with tension. She tried to relax, took some deep breaths, and let her body grow soft. She could make out thin pale pink lines all over her body, the aftermath of her father, the price a bastard child had to pay.

Aria inched closer to the mirror and softly touched her reflection; sunken eyes in a turmoiled brown looked back at her. Her hair though washed only yesterday was matted, its vivid red color a thing of the past. She held back tears and turned to her dresses.

"Who am I kidding," she muttered again and again as she went through the many dresses. Aria had already pictured the prince's wide eyes as soon as he would see her. Red hair, meaning the bastard princess. She would be rather lucky would she walk out the palace unscathed and with her head intact between her shoulders.

She shook her head and picked up a black velvet dress. She mourned the day of her wedding, as it would probably be the day she dies.

❋

The first thing Ellian noticed when Aria walked in palace was the way her curls bounced as she dragged herself to where he was standing. Fiery red, the same way her eyes burned. Her body was a different story; she walked slowly and painstakingly; her shoulders were hunched over as if she was carrying the weight of the world. Ellian burrowed his brows, correcting his thoughts as he realized she probably was, Celenial was her world.

His father, the King, scoffed as soon as he laid eyes on her. Everyone in Oceana knew that the red haired one was the daughter of a servant.

"Where is Zaya," the king, Pallius, asked Aria, before she even got to introduce herself, stopping her dead in its tracks. Zaya is Aria's sister, the 'real' royal. With the brown hair and eyes of the queen; her spitting image. Instead, Aria had the fierce blood red hair of a servant, but the golden eyes of the king. The king looked at Aria from head to toe, before he settled his eyes on hers, staring deeply. His mouth was a line, Ellian could see his tight jaw from the side. He was furious.

Aria bowed and without an ounce of fear retorted back in a somehow even colder voice than the king.

"She is sick, so the king sent me in her stead. I am my father's daughter as well."

"Bullshit," the king raised his voice.

"He just didn't want to give up the heir to his throne and sent me the bastard one." Pallius inched closer to Aria, she could smell his breath; bitter and sour.

"How am I supposed to wed my son, the future king, to a red-haired impure child?" If even a rose petal dared to fall on the floor, everyone would hear it loud and clear. Aria didn't break eye contact once, but she could feel herself starting to shiver underneath her black gown. The lace and tule dress had been enough to keep her warm before, but now the room was freezing. It took everything strength she had inside her for her teeth not to chatter and her shivers not to be apparent.

"Father," Ellian softly touched his arm and looked at Aria.

"It is a 6-day trip from Celenial, she must be tired. Let's talk about it when dinner comes in a few hours." Despite the softness of his touch, Ellian's voice was hard as steel and cold as ice.

"Well then. Show her to her room," the king signaled to Ellian.

"Dinner is in 3 hours," he declared, his boots echoed as he disappeared behind a colossal golden door. Aria could only guess that was the main ball room from the glimpse she managed once the king opened the door.

The prince's soft façade fell, and he looked at Aria coldly, his forest green eyes scanning her and her expressions.

"You, alone, come with me," he said and turned his back to Aria. He called a few servants, who disappeared from Aria's sight along with her two maids and the general commander that had ensured her safe arrival.

It was only the two of them now.

Aria followed him, having to quicken her pace as Ellian was extremely tall and his pace fast. It was all she could do not to step in her long dress as she almost ran behind him. Finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes, they reached a long corridor of closed doors. Ellian approached the second one on the left and motioned her to step inside.

Aria found herself in a huge bedroom, blindingly beautiful. Everywhere she looked were pastel pink accents and golden jewelry, presumably gifts for her arrival. The bed was huge and in the middle of the room. There was a long white lace dress sprawled across it, which she realized was her wedding dress. Her room back home was not even half the size; she could easily get lost in this room.

Ellian closed the door behind them and before Aria could realize what he was doing, he grabbed her by her neck and pinned her to the wall. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see and her head hurt from the impact. She tried to grab his hand that was on her neck, hit him until he lessens his grip, but he wouldn't budge. The strength with which he choked her was getting greater with every second that passed, and she was starting to see black from the corners of her eyes. It wouldn't be long before she would faint, and she dreaded to think of what he would do to her once she was unable to defend herself.

"Why you?" Ellian asked, his voice low and ringing menacingly in Aria's ears.

"I-I can't-" Aria choked out, her veins pulsating through her head and ears. She had a minute before blacking out at most. She continued to hit his hand with hers, only she was getting weaker and now could barely lift them.

"Don't think for even a second that I am going to respect you," he spat and lessened his grip enough for her to take a sharp breath.

"If we get married, you are my little toy. A princess and a queen is far from what you will become." Ellian let her go and Aria dropped to her knees, gasping for air, her eyes bloodshot. She brought a shaky hand to her neck where a purple bruise was starting to form. Her skin was tender to the touch; it made her wince. Silent tears fell as she tried to think rationally.

It was either she became a slave to the prince or shipped back a corpse.

"I had no choice," Aria heaved and raised her head to look at him. Ellian fell to one knee and gently placed his finger under her chin, raising her head softly to look him in the eyes. This gentle touch was the complete opposite to him almost strangling her.

"Such beautiful eyes, they remind me of the sun." He let her head fall abruptly. He got up, leaving Aria curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Look forward to tonight, my little doe." Ellian chuckled and left Aria's room. Aria struggled to raise herself from the cold marble floor, the nickname he gave her echoing in her ears along with his eyes burning her skin. She raised her arms slowly and covered her chest, her cold finger circling around her skin.

She dragged herself to the humongous bed that now seemed able to swallow her and rubbed her palms on her dress. The fabric burned her cold palms, but it was the only way to stop them from shaking, and the only way to keep herself from bursting to tears.

She looked towards the door and realized she had just entered a more luxurious prison. There was nowhere on this land that she was safe, even more so in this palace. Before any thoughts of escaping could enter her mind, a maid with grey hair and a wrinkled smile let her know that she should take a bath and get ready for dinner.

The maid didn't seem to notice Aria shaking and crying, and if she did, she was good at masking it. She left as quietly as she came, leaving Aria in a deafening silence.

---------------------------------------

Tag List: @angie-j-kay @mysticstarlightduck @boundedsea

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system-of-a-feather · 11 months

Text

God, yesterday my middle sister (lets call her B; the one that used to bully me and honestly if you asked our like 14 year old self "Who is your main abuser" theyd PROBABLY say our middle sister) messaged me and asked "Would you be mad if I talked to [other sister (lets call M; who tbh if you asked us now who was the most harmful abuser, she'd probably be the one wed pick)]"

And I had a whole positive whiplash moment cause I had NEVER asked her (B) not to and I had assumed she still was (despite her also not really enjoying my M's company and conversation) and to both find out she hadn't been talking to her since AT LEAST christmas 2022 AND that she was genuinely checking that I'd be okay before starting was just

An unexpected and astounding level of allyship, consideration, and care that I never thought I'd ever see demonstrated without prompting from someone in my family cause it really never did until yesterday

Apparently the complex abuse and what not is "between us" in the sense that on its own shed refrain from being a part of it while supporting me - but she drew the line at her blatant transphobia and Im just like

.....

Am I being taken into consideration???

Like I really don't care (i mean a part of me has schadenfreude over realizing its been 6 months since she had any sibling contact, but that is a feeling I will acknowledge and respect cause its fair, but not feed cause it serves me little benefit beyong acknowledging where I am compared to where I was before) about who and what is interacting with M so long as M doesn't get any details on my life and existence and stays out of it until shes ready to be a worthwhile person. While schadenfreude exists, I (XIV does though) don't have any malice or hopes that she suffers anymore than her own life choices naturally creates and so I have no need to bar any family members in a me vs her manner beyond the basic "keep her in the dark about my life cause that is a privilege shes lost" so her asking is a "Whatever" to me

But... to be asked about something I dont care about when there is fair reason for me to care is so... nice?

Honestly my middle sister has long since made up for the literal 16-20 years of bullying, harrassment, and honestly adding gas to the fire that is the neglect we went through at our parents hand - all on just the like year and half that we've been on good / decent terms

She made my childhood overtly hellish, but honestly, as overt as her shit was, it had one of the least long lasting effects due to it being, well, overt compared to a lot of the others that were far more insidious

Either way, its just me going to say that Im astounded at this experience and development and am glad to see my family starting to heal and grow from the cycle of abuse and leave our trauma authentically behind us for a better life overall

#alter: riku #riku rambles #recovery #ptsd #c-ptsd

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fulane-de-tal · 1 year

Note

I'm not the anon you replied to, and can't tell when the original ask was sent, but I'm also thinking about starting T but not in a binary trans man way and would love to hear more about your experiences!

absolutely!!

disclaimer: i haven’t been on T for very long so i can’t give you information i don’t have experience on but i’ll tell ya what i know!

disclaimer #2: this is going to be a very long post. sorry

if you have specific questions please please please DM me or send asks and i’ll answer them :)

the good the bad and the ugly:

one of the first things I noticed on T was the way if affected my menstrual cycle. (i’m just going to use those words for it because i can’t think of any better). i have really fucky hormones already, and a super inconsistent period, and after about a month and a half of T i got a period that lasted about 3 weeks. That freaked me out enough that I went off T for like a month, before realizing that i really needed T and got back on. I haven’t had a period since December, though, so we’ll see how that goes later.

thing #2 that I noticed: bottom growth. this and my voice change started at around the same time, so it was a really interesting few weeks while those two were starting out. you will feel it. all the time. like. all the time.

thing 2.5: the voice. this has been such a wonder for me. the first few weeks of voice dropping came sooner than i expected (around 2ish months in) although I had been noticing tiny minuscule changes since around month 1.5. the first real drop for me came February, or month 3, after my month-long pause. in about two weeks, my voice dropped a noticeable amount. it started cracking and my throat started hurting like a motherfucker. my voice has also dropped a bit these past few weeks, so ~ month 6, and people have started commenting on how different my voice is. it’s really great for me- my voice has finally started matching what i thought my voice should sound like.

thing 3: HORNY. i’m so fucking horny. im horny every hour of the day night and in between. i spent a whole day just jacking off and sleeping. you grow a second brain and it’s located in your pants. anything will get you horny.

thing 4: facial hair. hallelujah. i have a mustache now, enough for gas station attendants to call me “young man” and for some guy to ask me if i’m old enough to drive. i’m getting weird little scraggly beard hairs, the stuff about asscrack hair is true, and im getting hair on my stomach and toes????? it’s wonderful. it’s what i’ve waited my whole life for. still waiting for the chest hair, though.

5: fat redistribution. idk what to say about this just that everything is achy and my pants fit different and i know full well i haven’t been changing anything else about my life

6: here’s the sucker punch. sweat. i’m so fucking sweaty and horny all the time. i drove my truck for 15 minutes with the windows down yesterday and sweated through my undershirt. if you don’t have undershirts, get some once you start T. i used to wear the same undershirt for two days in a row (i know it’s gross shut up) and now i can barely wear one for a whole day. get good deodorant. old spice body spray is your friend. sorry

thing 7: emotions. i have a hard time crying now, but i can’t tell if that’s hormones or dehydration. i have your average pubescent mood swings on steroids. my tolerance for bullshit is at an all time low.

things 8-? : social perception

i am a fat butch dyke. i have short hair, a resting mean face, and very brusque hands. i’m very affectionate with people i trust in a way that gets me often labeled (by outsiders) as pushy or desperate. i’ve never been feminine but i’ve put on an affectation of femininity to make myself less threatening. with testosterone that went out the fucking window. people see me the way middle aged church mothers see pitbulls. i got called violent for tossing a shirt into a car with “too much aggression.” people are starting to interact with me the way they would interact with a man. it’s rough, and it’s lonely. but it’s worth it, to me.

i’m having to be more aware of myself in order to not get read as a creep. stuff i would have done when i passed as a girl has become, in a very short time, stuff i absolutely cannot do now that i pass as a weird deformed man. the affectation of femininity has returned in full force, although i’m trying to get rid of it and just talk.

i miss my singing voice.

i have a new singing voice that i love. i’m still surprised when i listen to recordings of myself and they’re not how i expected them.

i’ve found a lot of solace in captain america fanfiction.

i am so dazzlingly happy with my stupid scraggly mustache. i like looking at myself. for a good few weeks i couldn’t stop talking just to hear myself talk.

i need to drink gallons of water now.

people have started defaulting to “he” for me. a stranger let me pet his dog and asked me if i was a “feminus man,” to which i said absolutely.

i’ve become so comfortable in being myself. i can’t wait until i figure out what to do about my tits. i’m slowly getting the upper range of my singing back. i’m having to restrain myself from using vocal fry every three seconds. i go to a barbershop and feel completely out of place, but get a nice haircut. i don’t think i’ve developed the cis man brand of self consciousness yet, and i hope i never do. someone recognized me from high school and i’m glad i’m still the same.

testosterone has made me so connected to the person i thought i was going to grow into as a kid.

on a topic i never got to hear from anyone about:

injecting testosterone.

i chose intramuscular injection for my first T prescription. i went in with almost zero guidance aside from my friend (who offered to do it for me) and my adoptive dad (who told me to close my eyes and jab). i nearly cried the first time.

i kept doing intramuscular until my break, and at that point called the doctor and told her i could not keep doing that. she told me to inject subcutaneous until next appointment. i did. it was a wonder. i now have the specific needles for subcutaneous injection, and am so used to doing it i can even play music during the injection. i used to have to do it in total silence, with the door slightly ajar, and the pamphlet they gave me open in front of me, in case anything went wrong. now it’s easy. i still tell my cis man friends i’m more man than they are for being able to do it.

here’s how i do it, because no one told me how to:

check your T. it should be clear or pale yellow. there should not be granules, chunks, or cloudiness. if there are, call the pharmacy. don’t inject it. if it’s clear and chunk-free, you’re good.

fill the syringe with your dose of hormone. use a thick needle. get the air bubbles out. pull the plunger way down, switch needles, and push the plunger slowly back up to get the air out. you’ll figure it out.

to uncap a needle, you might need a little more force than you expect. i still haven’t figured out how to do this easily.

i inject into my stomach, always, so: i rotate injection sites every week. don’t inject above your navel, and it’s best to inject at least an inch away from it. if you pinch the area you want to inject in you should feel the difference in how pain is experienced. pick a spot where you almost don’t feel it when you pinch yourself. hold the syringe with your thumb on the plunger and your first two fingers on the finger rests. hold it at a 45 degree angle with the needle tip’s open end facing up, so the needle slides in easier. take a deep breath and push the needle in.

it’s easier to go faster just to get the tip in, and after that you can go as gentle and slow as you like.

if you’re like me and your stomach is covered in stretch marks, that’s ok. stretch marks don’t go deep. it might hurt a little to get the needle in, but you will be okay. i promise. you’ll feel the needle hit the fat and slide right in and then you’ll be okay.

some people say to pull up a little to check for blood but i don’t do that and it’s fine. my med student friend said you won’t get internal bleeding or other severe damage from not doing that, and if you do, the big ugly bruise will let you know real quick.

take a deep breath and push the plunger down. if your hand shakes that’s okay and if the needle moves a little that’s okay. just don’t pull the needle out mid-injection.

if you have to test a few spots to see where you want to inject, that’s ok too.

some days will hurt more than others.

it’s okay to have to use more than one needle if you chicken out of the first jab. you usually don’t need a new syringe for this.

don’t pierce the skin with the same needle twice. for sanitary reasons and also because a blunt needle hurts like a motherfucker.

pull the needle out gently and press your finger to the injection site. slap on a bandaid. get the stretchy real bandaid branded bandaids. they’re good.

give yourself a treat! youve probably been a little tense for this. relax.

the injection site might get a little red and a little itchy. it might hurt when you put briefs on. it might hurt when you move or touch it. there might be a tiny little bump where you injected. that’s fine. you will be ok. call a friend if you need.

i hope this all helped! if you want more deets or have questions please let me know :0)

-naf

#je parle #asks #t chronicle

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reeshyz · 2 years

Text

Title: Just keep me where the light is Pairing: Christoph Schneider / Till Lindemann Presentee: @tom-regulus-antares Prompt: Fairy Lights Warnings/Tags: just fluff | Richard and Paul as matchmaker | getting together Word Count: 2.318 Summary: Till is in love with Christoph but he has no idea how to admit that to him. Paul and Richard have ideas, but they are stupid. Or are they? Read on AO3: here

♪

“Why can’t you just go over to him and tell him, you've been in love with him for 11 years.” Richard says and even Paul nods his head in agreement. Till huffs quietly and then coughs slightly.

“11 years and 4 months if you really wanna know it,” Till answers and they both groan. Till wants to roll his eyes, but Richard does it first.

“Just another reason to just talk to him. I assure you, he’s loving you back. I would even bet for 11 years and 6 months or something,” Paul says and Till squints at him. He is not sure, that’s true.

Yeah okay, lately he had seen how Christoph looks at him sometimes, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Till says quietly and Richard carefully sits down next to him and then cuddles against his side. Till is glad that he can always talk to these two idiots about his hopeless pinning.

He had known as a teenager already that he likes boys, but for some reason he had fallen so hard for Christoph. It had started as a good friendship and Till is glad that they are so close, but he really yearns for so much more.

“Christoph was kinda in a bad mood this morning,” Paul says and he shrugs. Till hums, he had realized that too. Christoph hadn’t even eaten anything, he had just drunk a bit of his coffee.

“Yeah and maybe you could cheer him up,” Richard says and he snips his fingers, as if he had an amazing idea. Till never trusts any of Richard’s ideas. He had learned that a long time ago.

“Good idea! I know Chris is kinda sad about Christmas, maybe we could celebrate it for a bit here together. You two could get all cuddly together,” Paul says and Richard nods. Them like the two idiots are now talking to each other without speaking, because Richard hastily agrees.

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” Till tries but he knows it’s already a lost cause.

“Yeah it’s a perfect idea! We could decorate the whole studio. Didn’t Ollie find some Christmas boxes yesterday?” Richard says and he is already getting up. Till wishes he could stop them.

“True! That means we will make it all cozy here and then you can finally admit to Schneider that you love him,” Paul says, clapping his hands.

Till shakes his head.

“How does decorating the house help me with flirting? You know that I can’t just tell him that I’m in love,” Till says, quietly, because he’s scared that Christoph could walk in on them any time.

“Hmm, oh! You could pretend to get tangled up in some lights and need Christoph to help you,” Richard says and Till smacks his hand against his forehead. He hates the idea.

“Oh yeah that would be so cute. Christoph could be your savior,” Paul agrees again and Till just gives up.

“You think he would fall for such a dumb trick?” Till asks and the guitarists speak up at the same time.

“Yes.”

“Okay whatever. And where would you all be in your perfect plan?” Till asks and Richard thinks about that for a moment, before he looks back to Paul.

“We could leave you two alone for a bit. Maybe we’ll go out and eat something nice. I’m kinda hungry,” Paul admits and Richard smiles. Seems like those two could come up with an idea for everything.

“That also means we need to get Schneider out of the house first,” Richard says, he takes a paper and writes something on it before he walks over to the door, opens it and peeks his head out. Loudly calling out for Schneider.

It doesn’t take long for Christoph to walk into the living room. Till tries not to look at him, but his heartbeat is so loudly in his own ears, that he also has trouble listening to them talk.

“What do you want?” Christoph asks, still in a bad mood. Maybe today is the worst day to declare his feelings. Till thinks about climbing out of the window, just so he could leave this conversation.

“Could you buy some groceries for us?” Richard asks and he even does try his puppy dog eyes. Of course they don’t work on Christoph. Till chuckles at that and Richard promptly glares at him.

“Why would I?” Christoph asks, same authority in his voice as if he was Frau Schneider again. Till hopes that he’s not blushing.

“Uh uhm, because Till is hungry and he’d love some stuff. Richard and I have a lot to do and Till said, he’s not feeling so well,” Paul lies as good as he can (and sadly he’s very good at it).

Christoph frowns and then looks at Till, who’s hastily nodding.

“Oh. I mean yeah sure, I can buy you something,” Christoph says and his voice turns so much softer. Till blushes badly this time, maybe Richard and Paul were really onto something here.

He can’t help but get his hopes up.

“Thank you,” Till whispers, so embarrassed.

“Anything for you,” Christoph says and he takes the list Richard is holding out. Richard even walks him to the door, while Paul gives Till a thumbs up and mouths the words ‘anything for you’ at Till with a wink.

Till cuddles into his blanket, feeling so much better.

Christoph has a bit of a headache, when he comes back to the studio. Richard had given him such a long list for groceries, that it had taken him a while. He doesn’t know why they wanted so much food, but he knows something is up. He knows not to trust anyone when Paul and Richard are giggling all day.

“Oh what the hell!”

Christoph is sure that he is hallucinating or at least dreaming. The whole studio looks like Santa himself came in and made this his new home. There are Christmas decorations everywhere. Even the mall hadn’t looked like this.

“Paul? Richard?” Christoph yells, but of course there is no answer. Damn his stupid bandmembers. Sometimes he thinks about returning Frau just to make them behave. They all know that Christoph is not really in the mood for Christmas. He had told them.

Christoph carefully steps down the stairs and looks around. He is sure that he can hear some Christmas music and he decides to follow that.

(He ignores that their bathroom door is open and he can even see some decorations in there as well.)

Maybe this is a joke? Could be that they are all laughing their asses off right now. For a second he thinks about just putting the food down and leaving again. He had just wanted to take a nap after getting all these groceries.

“Chris?”

Just as Christoph rounds the next corner on the way to their living room, when he finds Till.

“Oh hey Till,” Christoph says and Till waves all cutely at him. He’s wearing a soft red jumper and is holding some stars in his hands. Christoph can’t see Paul and Richard anywhere. Same with Flake and Ollie.

“Are you feeling better?” Christoph asks and Till nods.

“Yeah, took you a bit huh? I know the list was a bit long,” Till says and he points at the bags. Christoph nods, still a bit confused.

“What are you doing?” Christoph asks and looks around. Till is smiling and even though Christoph kinda wants to be angry - nobody needs this much Christmas - that smile makes him weak in the knees. Always.

Christophs puts the food on the table and looks around. Everything is basically sparkling here.

“Decorating the studio,” Till says and even his eyes crinkle. Christoph almost reaches out to stroke over Till’s cheek, before he remembers that he isn’t allowed to do that. Still he admires the view.

“But why?” Christoph asks and Till just starts to put more stars on the wall. They are beautiful but also very glittery. Christoph isn’t sure if he likes that.

“The others thought it could be fun. We haven't seen each other for the last ten years nearly often enough, so we can spend some time together before Christmas.” Till says and Christoph nods.

Okay. He’s right.

They had seen each other of course, but often enough it had only been two or three of them. That they all sat together like they had here in the last days, hadn’t happened in ages. Till is right.

“We never… celebrate Christmas together before,” Christoph tries to mention it casually, but of course Till looks actually sad at that. Christoph feels bad.

“Oh… I just wanted to do something nice for you,” Till says and behind him falls a star from the wall. Christoph winces.

“It is nice! I mean, maybe it is a good idea. It sounds like a lot of fun, don’t you think? Maybe Richard will cook us something nice and I could help you here,” Christoph smiles and picks up some of the stuff that is in a huge cardboard box next to the singer.

“Really?” Till asks and he seems happy again. Christoph sighs relieved. While Till continues to decorate the hall, Christoph excuses himself to put the groceries away first. He knows how bitchy Richard can get about that.

Christoph can’t help but smile to himself though. He had always (secretly) dreamed about a Christmas like this, even if they’d all leave before the 24th, it could still be a lot of fun and maybe he could get closer to the singer as well.

At this point Christoph isn’t even sure how many years he’s already in love with their singer, but his heartbeat still speeds up each time he sees him.

Half an hour later, Christoph goes back to searching Till. He finds him still in their living room, trying to decorate a Christmas tree. Christoph chuckles, when he sees how much Till struggles with the fairy lights.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Christoph asks and he grins widely, when Till turns to him.

The singer looks grumpy but he also seems to be pouting. Christoph blushes because he actually likes that look a lot. He just wishes he could kiss those sinful lips. Shit. Christoph hopes that he isn’t blushing.

“I don’t understand how this works, it seems like I’m kinda tangled in the lights,” Till says slowly and turns around, only to get more tangled up in the lights. Christoph laughs loudly.

“Well normally you put it around the tree and not yourself.”

When Till glares at him, Christoph finally comes closer, but not really to help. Instead he just looks at Till, because he looks adorable like this and Christoph wishes he could take a picture. He is pretty sure that the singer wouldn’t like that though.

“Hmpf.”

“I mean I have to say you look gorgeous in it. Even more gorgeous than normally,” Christoph says and he nearly bites on his own tongue. Holy shit. Why did he say that?

Christoph is really afraid of Till’s reaction, but then he sees that Till actually blushes. Christoph is sure his own face is red as well, but he can clearly see Till’s smile again. Maybe…?

Of course they just stare at each other again. They did that right from the start and Christoph always liked it. Not only because Till’s eyes are beautiful, but he always feels so connected to Till like this.

“So you want to help me?” Till asks, still wrapped in all the lights and Christoph shakes his head. Maybe he should make Till his tree this year. Christoph nods and then tries to help Till out of the fairy lights.

Somehow this is harder than it looks, and before Christophs knows it, he’s tangled in them as well. He frowns and this time it’s Till who’s laughing loudly. Christoph fell in love with that laugh so many years ago, but right now he sticks his tongue out at him.

“You know… normally the lights are for the tree and not for…,” Till starts and Christoph huffs. Haha very funny, great joke.

“Shut up,” Christoph mumbles and of course that only serves to make Till laugh even more.

Ten minutes later, it’s somehow even worse. They’re very close now, Till’s chest against his own and Christoph tries to get his own heartbeat under control. Till frowns at him, when Christoph tries to struggle himself free.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Till says, sounding so unsure of himself. Christoph sighs. This is basically torture for him. He’s so close and still not allowed to touch Till in the way he wants.

“We will stay tangled like this forever,” Christoph says and Till laughs again. Christoph watches him. It shouldn’t be allowed to look this beautiful in every situation.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Till whispers suddenly and Christoph gasps. Could that mean that maybe Richard was right and Till really likes him as well?

“We probably look stupid or like a present,” Christoph whispers, his hand still somewheres in Till’s hair and the singer opens his mouth. Christoph wants to kiss him. Wants that now.

Till smiles at him, his eyes crinkling again. Christoph takes another step closer, feeling the fairy lights against his arms.

“What if I want to be your present?” Till whispers and Christoph doesn’t have to think about it. There is only one answer and he knows he finally has to say it now.

He doesn’t have the words, but he knows what to do.

He just leans in and kisses Till. For a second he is afraid that he read it all wrong, but Till puts his hands against Christoph’s warm cheeks and kisses back.

Best present ever.

And he doesn’t even care that he’s not sure if they will ever get out of these damn lights.

#schnill #reeshyzadventcalendar

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introverted-ghost · 11 months

Note

Hello, how are you doing? :))

Just realized how ~weird~ it is that we have been friends for this long and I do not know your name. I don't mean your real name necessarily, but just some way to call you? Lmao I literally cannot believe I am only now asking this, I feel like a terrible online friend :((

Funny how internet friendships work tho. Like I know you're a half-psychic pisces, and your favorite color is green, and you like The Owl House and The Ninja Turtles and Ninjago, and you have cats and several siblings.....

But I don't have a way to call you.

????

Honestly wtFUCK.

So imma ask you some questions to know you a lil better, if you don't mind.

1. HOW CAN I CALL YOU OMGGGG

2. Favorite candy

3. How was this past week? Anything fun?

4. What kind of books do you like? Not gonna ask favorite book, but just talk to me about books :) you like reading, right? I know you like comics, and reading comics is reading. You can talk to me about comics.

5. What is your favorite fun fact? Can be about anything. I'll tell you mine: a human teeth has 32 calories.

6. YOU HAVE CATS, RIGHT? I HAVE THIS MEMORY THAT YOU SHOWED ME SOME PICTURES OF THEM. RIGHT?? TWO OF THEM. I DIDN'T MADE THAT UP. RIGHT????

7. Do you still wanna be friends after this mess of an ask? Lmao.

Sorry. Currently 2:00 am. I shouldn't be allowed to use internet at this unholy hours.

I’m gonna fucking die I just finished answering this then tumblr crashed and it was gone. Anyways~

1. To be honest I don’t really care what people call me. Most folks call me dryad but I also go by edland, xero, kylan, and rian or anything else really since I don’t super care

2. I don’t think I have a favourite candy so I went to check what was in my stash which was virtually nothing (Imma have to stock up once I get paid) but there was a container of pink lemonade lemonheads (which are pretty good btw)

3. Id probably have to make a whole separate post to cover everything I did but basically we went camping a lot in different places across the province each night (depending on where you’re from that may not seem too impressive but I’ll tell you in messages the size of it compared to Colombia so you get the picture)

4. I like fiction stories, usually fantasy but chill if it’s not. I recently (yesterday) got a book from the library I asked for ages ago (it took extra time since the one they gave me originally was in Chinese so I returned that one and asked for one in english) it’s called journey to the west btw. I know a lot about it and have watched many adaptations of it but it’s nice to be able to read it. Yes I also like comics

These are all the Tmnt comics I have so far

5. I don’t know if this is my favourite fun fact or if I’ve already told you or if you already know since you’re super smart. The Latin words for 7 8 9 10 are septem octo novem decem respectively. You may recognize them as the 9-12 months of the year, which you would be correct. It bothered me that it doesn’t match up but they were named during the Julian calendar which started in April (that’s also how April fools started) so with quick comparing I learnt that it STILL DOESNT MATCH UP :|

6. I do have cats. Three of them though

First there’s Meredith he’s the oldest by a month

Then jingles

Skip ahead 5 or 6 years and you got Maggie (this picture was taken after she was spayed and we had to put her cone on when I wasn’t there to watch, she tried to escape while I was at school but just ended up making things worse for herself)

7. Yes of course I do!

Now you answer them! Well except 5 since you kinda already did. And 6 since it was kinda a me specific question. And 1 since I already know your name. And a modified 7 (do you still want to be my friend after this mess of an answer?)

Also go to sleep 🔫

#asks #cat #friend stuff #< new tag

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mbrainspaz · 1 year

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I knew this company's pay raise system was gonna be shit as soon as I found out they had a system, so what happened yesterday was not that surprising. After working my ass off through one of the hottest summers on record, innovating some stuff, basically puppeteering the actual manager to get things done right, and forging great relationships with clients who all wrote me glowing reviews, I got a 30 cent raise. Sorry—a 31 cent raise. The boss tells me it was calculated by how many good vs bad reviews the whole community got or something, and apparently we (the whole community) had gotten some bad reviews in the last year. Whatever? I didn't ask? She even went on to explain that that had nothing to do with me, personally. But you know, she can't help that the system works this way. If it were up to her she'd give me more, obviously. Spare me.

What that means is I'm still making less than $35k as a 30 year old with management experience who's been working in this field (in the fields lol) for around 15 years now. In f*cking H-town Texas, where it would cost me about half that income to live in an RV or a shed. I should know, I lived in an RV behind a shed for the last two years. (If you missed it I live in company housing now, which is the only reason I tolerate any of this nonsense.) The really weird thing was that the new corporate boss sits me down for this meeting and instead of just saying 'here's your raise, peasant,' she decides to play it up a little. She starts telling me this weird story about how the company always gives out christmas bonuses according to how much they value the employee. "You got yours, right?" I say, "yeah." And I'm sure to smile politely. It was $250 in visa gift cards. Nothing to sneeze at, but I've worked at a much smaller company that tried a profit sharing model before and I was getting an extra $400 a month there (until they realized they'd rather hoard the profits and stopped it after two months lol). Anyway, she goes on to recount this weird story about driving home from a company party and discovering an envelope full of $100 bills in her company gift baggie. "It was almost $1000," she told me with exaggerated awe. "Wow," I said politely. "So you know, the company sees your work and appreciates you." "That's great," I said politely.

I guess she doesn't know I got a $1000 pooled tip from the clients. 😬

That whole spiel was sickening though. "Ooh if you're a good little worker you'll get a fun treat!" I'm sure for her $1000 means a fun time like shoe shopping or fancy dinners. For me it's a drop in the rain barrel of my constantly leaking 'stay alive the next time rich people try to kill you' fund. I've been saving for years and I've still got a ways to go before I could even afford a downpayment on a moderately ok old van. I already used my company 'bonus' to buy a new pair of work boots, knee bandages, and some gloves because mine wear out every 6-8 months on the job.

sheesh.

#life of a texan peasant #worker's rights #essential worker life #millennial life #personal problems #things that happened #corporate american hellscape #capitalist hellscape #thanks I hate it #money nonsense #ugh rich people

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aggressiveviking · 1 year

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Deep fic writer asks: 6,12,18

Ahh! I so wanted to answer some of these! Thank youu for the ask 😭❤ 6.what's the hardest part of the writing process for you? I think for me its the starting writing part. Its a thing i struggle with every day. Its a silly irrational fear - i feel like i can't live up to myself from yesterday or the day before when i know i wrote a lot and i was happy with what i wrote. Starting each day always comes with the questions "would i fuck the story up now? its been going so well"

12.What’s your perfect environment to create/write? Honestly I've been trying to find the answer to this question for a long time - what enviroment would stimulate me into writing/creating. I don't mind noise, i don't mind company, i don't mind being out or being in. What i do mind is a negative person, someone who is upsetting me, someone i can't feel comfortable around. If a person like that is not present around me - any place can become the perfect enviroment. I often write outside on my phone, on my computer at home or even in notebooks when the other 2 are not available. When i was younger i didn't leave home without a notebook. I would write everywhere i went - in the park, in a coffee shop, at school, in class, even outside standing up leaning on a wall. It all comes down to just feeling comfortable and away from people who upset me.

18.Do you only write when you’re inspired, or do you try and sit down at specific times and write no matter what? When i was younger i would say that i was always inspired - and i was. As I got older inspiration and ideas became harder to come by. For a while i really didn't even try writing if i didnt feel up to it. But a few years going like that i did an experiment for a few months - i made myself write every day, for 1 hour. That hour was saved only for writing. No matter if i would just sit and listen to music, think about ideas and write just a paragraph or even just one sentence. It was hard at first and i really did have days where i couldn't write more than a sentence. But after a while i found myself waiting in anticipation for that 1 hour. And little by little writting became easier and i felt like i was having fun with it again - something i felt like i had lost for a while. After that experience i realized that inspiration came from writing itself. The less i wrote, the less ideas and inspiration i had. That experiment with the 1 hour writing a day ended after a few months and i havent done it again after (mostly because i havent had the means to schedule a whole 1 hour for myself, too busy 😭) But i still try to write every day, even if just one sentence, and think about the stories i love and want to tell. i struggle most of the time but im also thankful at myself after, that i forced myself to do it. after pushing through the fear of starting, i really enjoy writing and it makes me feel productive and happy. in my hardest days writing is something that helps me a lot with feeling better about myself, like ive accomplished something, even if its something super small and just for myself.

#💖#deep fic writer ask #aggressiveviking draws

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sweetswesf · 1 year

Text

Check In

What I Did

An algo

Checked in on my unemployment benefits that have not come in yet and realized I didn't submit everything I needed to :/ I hope I don't miss out on that money...gotta pay more attention

Spent TOOO much time on YouTube & Twitter

Cleaned

Reviewed a resume writing resource that helped me revamp my resume

Updated my resume

Updated my LinkedIn

Responded to a company with my updated resume

Took a nap & woke up after thinking about my old team and how they were working while I was napping, guilted myself about it

Started my data transfer

Cleared up my inboxes

What I Learned

How to find if an array is a subsequence of another array

A New Orleans comedian I like passed away a few days ago :'(...RIP Boogie B...I found out by doing my daily watch of his videos and seeing a few people commenting RIP under them...I thought it was a joke...but it wasn't...I have been in love with New Orleans since visiting and was looking forward to visiting the spots he recommended and maybe even buying a home there...but not anymore...I don't want this to scare me into not living the life I want to live, but it seems hard to avoid while living there...that's the main thing I kept hearing while I was down there and almost anytime any Black person from there describes it: the gun violence is out of control...he lost his life by Black people...and he wasn't the intended target...all them white people in New Orleans, NY, LA, etc. and they all seem to not get shot...I'm so tired of Black men killing Black people...it's racism's continued manifestation...when will it end?...Black men are even trying to exterminate themselves by whitening their children...it's so sad and truly weighs on me and stresses me out daily...

youtube

Feeling

Had a bit of quick headaches here and there...a little sore on my head when I touch the spot that I hit my head yesterday...may take this whole week off of exercising and ease back into it next week

I don’t have the same urge for gym bae as I did…nor for my first…nor for my first love…recognizing my worth…

Proud of myself for actually getting a lot done...I was pretty down because I was pretty distracted today and I want the life that I want to be here now, but I have to work for these next few months consistently to get there...and live in the moment and not worry about the future and just push myself to keep doing a little or more every day

Takeaways

I gotta stop digging in my damn ears with my sharp ass nails!

I am nail biting an bit less and actually have some nails on my hand

I need to spend less time on the socials...maybe I can try to, when I need a break, actually laying down, without hopping on YouTube

I'm getting older, because I can't listen to a LOT of the rap music I used to...I listen to some lyrics today, like, "Wow, I was really feeding myself this crap and paying for these artists that have contributed to lowering my and Black peoples' social standing for a while!...."

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut

Encouraged myself to keep going

Goals Completed

Found a therapist

Stopped listening to people worried about their own circumstances and remembering God works on his own time and that I am in no rush...

Got back on the ball

Being kinder to myself and stopping guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Goals After Today

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in 6 months, NOT less than 3

Drop my body fat percentage to Marion Jones, Michaela Cole, or Jade Cargill levels

Consistently fight urge to fill up my time with social media/YouTube

Fully forgive my family & build a great relationship with them

Be more confident & faithful

250 steps/hour & 10k steps/daily consistently

Drink more than 64oz a day consistently

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

Learn more about my gym crush & get him to ask for my number

Get a house similar to that one in Spain

Update my personal app

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yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit · 2 days

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The great regular sleep experiment 2024 part "Snow"

So uh, I had broken my chains right? I had achieved the unattainable sleep, yeah?

Sleep, the delicious.

Well now I get sleepy around 8 get into bed around 9 and sleep from 10-11 ish until 12:30, wake up too hungry to sleep, Sleep maybe another 1.5 hours by 5 am if I am very lucky, and then sleep from 5-8 am when I am not supposed to because I am too tired to get out of bed... >:{

So from now on I try to go to bed earlier and get up at my alarm no matter what, ig...

I did manage to be more productive after having caught up on some sleep debt and the place is looking even emptier than before [I haven't actually discarded much but an object or two, but re-organizing does so much]...

I had a dream someone was asking me where to do a vigilante justice by adding a bench, like, night before last. There was this like 6 lane walking path that split off into 3 2-lane paths and I suggested putting the bench in the center of the middle two paths where there would be most room to walk around them, instead of putting them on any of the 'lanes' because even though there seemed to be 6 right there, they each split off to a different direction or were for walking or biking going different ways, so none of them were really surplus. But I said the bigger problem was snow removal, that by putting a big concrete bench in the center he'd be making it so the area would be hard to plow without hitting the bench, so he should at least do something like mix dark pigment into the concrete so the bench would sort of auto-defrost and not get lost in the snow, and be easy to see and use all winter... He got really angry at me for suggesting he spend extra money on a free project, so I tried to point out that the city would definitely tear it out if it caused any problems and then fine him for these expense, so he'd actually be better off asking to coordinate with the city about it to begin with in this case, if he didn't want to just be wasting money, and I suggested groups he could coordinate with to make a bench happen. As this was just some personal vanity project and not actually about helping people, he got really pissed I was pointing this out in front of people and I ended up running away from him through a school?

And I realize -now that I am trying to think of what that could relate to- that yesterday I ended up -very unexpectedly because I happened to find the right screws- fixing a metal chair I have that I was planning to put outside for people to rest on [anchored so it can't be stolen easily and is clearly meant to stay put]... I -did- make sure it was tucked far enough back to not get in the way of the snow plow... Yw. But maybe I should triple check that and think about repainting the seat in a darker colour??

Last night I had a dream that I was hanging out with a whole gaggle of historical fashion girlies from youtube, some known, some peripheral or invented by the dream, and discussing the longest we'd ever had our hair. I took my hair out but put it up badly because we were *mostly* all drinking [some people don't do that], and Bernadette Banner tried to reassure me it looked fine, without prompting, so I laughed and told her that made me assume it -in fact- did not... We were all laughing a lot. I woke up when one of them touched me because I'm not used to physical contact anymore. It had one of those similar 'prophetic' type vibes to it, but then it also vibed like the dreams I have where I keep seeing a similar looking woman, who I feel like I know... I'm probably just lonely and watch too much youtube, yet again.

I guess we see what that might have been predicting, I already cut my hair this month.

The problem with when I am sleeping is that I am not getting any errands done, is the thing.

#the great regular sleep experiment of 2024 #And a dream journal I guess

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