#it be like that sometimes i hope someone reads these tags and sees the intent lol

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

#seriously I appreciate everyone who's out here posting about alastor I love being in the radio demon fanclub lol #just some thoughts that's all and maybe it'll resonate with others #please let's be patient with each other though it's rough out there already #alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #asexual #aromantic #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor #aroace alastor #alastor hazbin #ace #aro

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Chapter 4: Alone Together

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (for mature content)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, language, a bit of fluff

Word Count: ~5.7k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue. Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you think, I thrive off of reading your comments! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, are you paying attention?” 

Armin waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, snapping Eren out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in. He shakes his head slightly, grinning. “Sorry, Armin. Sort of zoned out for a minute there.” They sit next to each other on Eren’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop. It’s Saturday night, and Eren actually agreed to be social today. 

Armin taps on the space bar, pausing the film. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?”

The real answer is no, but with Armin, he’ll only worry if he knows the truth. “Plenty. All eight hours,” Eren lies. In reality, he’s getting four hours tops. He stays up late studying, then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, anxious about the future. 

Oblivious, Armin responds happily. “Good! Living by yourself is already paying off. Sometimes I wish I could have my own space. The frat house can get pretty noisy, especially with Connie as a roommate.” He chuckles, reaching towards the bag of chips between them.

“Connie’s a blast to be around, though. I’m sure you’re having fun.”

“Yeah, I am. You should really come by the house.”

“Maybe. When I have time.” In all honestly, he has no intention of stepping foot in that frat house. Not because he has a disdain for Greek life; but because it’ll only show him what he’s missing out on. He already feels that way whenever he catches up with Mikasa and Armin, both thoroughly enjoying their college experience still. 

Mikasa returns from the bathroom, hopping on the bed to squeeze next to Eren. “What did I miss?”

“We ended up pausing the movie anyways, so not much.” Armin passes the snacks to Mikasa, who throws a handful into her mouth. 

They continue the movie, Eren’s mind drifting into space again. He’s already thinking about the upcoming chemistry midterm next week, how he hasn’t fully memorized the amino acids and their structures yet. And how he has to schedule a date to meet with Hange Zoë, a senior doing research in the lab, to see if he can shadow her for a month. On top of that, he’s planning on hosting a small event at the dorms, something to help his residents let off some steam after exams. It’s all too much. He wants to sleep and pretend that none of these obligations exist. 

The credits roll on his computer screen. He blinks, fully unaware of what transpired during the movie. His friends hang around for a few more minutes before leaving to head to a party somewhere else on campus. Once again, he’s alone. 

He is not motivated to study tonight, already burnt out from the last couple of days. Instead, he practices his electric guitar, working on a particular riff of this song he likes, replaying it over and over through his headphones. He loses himself in the music for a while, the closest thing to an escape that he can reproduce inside his own bedroom. Fingers sore from picking and strumming, he decides to call it a night. Face washed and teeth brushed, he snuggles under the covers, glancing at his phone. 11:00 PM. Wild night, he thinks to himself, laughing. 

Suddenly, his brother’s name flashes across the screen. “Zeke?”

“Eren, hey. You’re not sleeping already, are you?”

“Nah. But I’m in bed.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Yep.”

Zeke chuckles heartily. “Oh boy. I can already hear it in your voice. Welcome to the club, little brother. Your descent into med school hell is starting.”

“Yay, can’t wait,” Eren responds sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Clearly not well.”

“I’ve been better.” He keeps his answer vague on purpose. With Zeke, he doesn’t go into too much detail with the emotions he’s experiencing. As much as he respects his older brother, the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye. While Eren usually acts out of emotion, sometimes to a fault, Zeke is detached, unable to empathize with what his younger brother is struggling with.  

“Is dad still giving you a hard time? I heard he wasn’t happy with your last quiz grade.” 

Eren ignores the urge to ask how he knows about that, already aware that they talk about him behind his back. “I told him it was weighted, so technically I passed.” 

“Well, you know how the old man is. Technicalities don’t really matter to him.”

He rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, almost regretting picking up this call. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you should study harder.”

He’s fighting to keep his cool, his body tense with anger. Before he loses it, he mutters through gritted teeth, “Okay, thanks. I actually gotta go now, bye.”

“Eren, I’m just trying to help – ”

He doesn’t wait for Zeke to finish his sentence, already tapping on the red button to end the call. Now, with his mood ruined, he’s not sure if he can fall asleep. He wishes it was still daylight, specifically the golden hour when the sun sets. It would be the perfect time to head to his favorite spot: the beach that overlooks the shimmering expanse of blue ocean water separating Paradis and Marley. He discovered this area recently, on one of his drives that he takes to temporarily escape. It brings him peace, even if the moment is fleeting. 

Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on his mom’s name, holding the phone back up to his ear. When her familiar voice greets him on the other line, the tears start flowing and he spends the next half hour confiding in her. 

~~~

You and Reiner cuddle in bed, his nose nuzzled to the back of your neck, spooning you. Bertolt is home for the weekend, leaving the room to yourselves. 

“Coco, are you still awake?”

You hum, snuggling closer to him, on the verge of sleep. He swallows hard behind you, as if he’s nervous. “I think I want to live in the fraternity house next semester.”

This gets your attention. Surprised, you turn around to face him. “What?”

“It’ll help me bond with my brothers better.”

“But we were supposed to live together.” The two of your agreed quite early in the semester that you would live together in one of the on-campus apartments. This news comes to you as a shock, since he’s never mentioned wanting to live on Greek Row, until now. 

“I just want to try it out for a year, baby. When we’re juniors, we can find our own place off campus, so we can do whatever we want.” He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “Everything is going to work out, okay? You can wait a year, right?”

Of course you can wait; that’s what he asks you of, so you’ll do it. But you don’t want to. You had all these exciting ideas laid out in your head: cooking meals together, relaxing on the couch in each other’s arms, being alone without worrying about parents or roommates barging in on the two of you. Being together all the time. 

“Coco, say something.”

It’s easy to get upset. Make a fuss and yell at him for being selfish. Simultaneously, you feel guilty for thinking this way, like you’re the bad girlfriend for disagreeing with it. For wanting him all to yourself.

“Okay,” you finally respond. “I’ll ask Annie if she wants to live together again, I guess.” It’s a compromise for the sake of making him happy. Because more than anything, you want him to be happy. 

He smiles, kissing you on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You wake up, back in your own bed, Annie’s soft snores filling the quiet of the room. A quick glance at your phone shows you it’s only 4 AM in the morning. It’s been a few days since you dreamt about Reiner, a new record since the break-up. Still, whenever you do, it hurts as much as it did the first night. 

He never warned you about wanting to move into the fraternity house. It came out of nowhere, a total and complete blindside, much like when he broke up with you. He’s been this way for a while, making rash decisions and springing it on you without a mention of it beforehand. You always end up going along with it, forcing yourself to accept it without disagreement. You never could stand up for yourself, thinking it was less hassle to bend for him than to argue about it. When you’re with someone for so long, the easy road seems the obvious choice, compared to one that has bumps and cracks along the way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s better; it doesn’t always lead you to the right destination. And maybe that’s why you are where you are now: lost. 

It’s been almost two weeks since you saw him on that rainy day. Two weeks since he sent you that text message, which remains unanswered. There’s been moments where you stared at the screen, fingers ghosting the keyboard, wanting to send him a reply. Somehow, you’ve resisted those temptations. In the end, it’ll only lead to more heartache. The memories haven’t kept you up at night as much as it did before. Thankfully, your sleep schedule is back to normal, except for nights like this. You’re doing better each day. Annie’s two words to you are on constant loop in your head: Baby steps. Any progress, no matter how little or big, is still progress. As long as you don’t go backwards into a downward spiral.

Later in the week, Annie extends an invitation to eat dinner at one of the sorority houses on campus, Mu Phi. Hitch, a close friend, is a sister who currently lives there. As you approach Greek Row with your roommate, you look at the Delta Delta house right next door, wondering if Reiner is there, working as their hasher tonight. Possibly flirting with Christa or other sisters that surely find him attractive. You let the insecurities fade as soon as you knock on the door to Mu Phi, soon greeted by Hitch and two other friendly sisters. They lead you into the dining room, chatting about various topics, subtlety sneaking in how great sorority life is, asking if you’ve ever been interested. After all, they are constantly in recruitment mode, which doesn’t bother you. It feels nice to be desired. 

During the meal, the conversations continue. Annie, being the secret gossip she is, mentions the neighbors. You briefly described to her your run-in with Reiner and Christa, so naturally, she’s been curious since. “What’s it like living next to them?”

Hitch replies, “It’s fine. Did you know that Mikasa’s a Delta Delta?”

“Really? She rushed? I guess they can’t be all bad,” Annie muses.

Hitch eyes her with an amused smirk on her face. “Why would you say that? Who’s in there that you don’t like?”

Before Annie can respond, you interrupt, not wanting to spread any unwarranted gossip. “She’s joking. By the way, who’s Mikasa?”

“She’s this girl that attends Annie’s kickboxing class.”

Annie adds, “She’s also our RA’s sister.”

“Eren?”

She nods, confirming. His appearance around the dorms has lessened, possibly because of the upcoming midterms. He is a pre-med major after all, so you’re certain he’s too busy studying to be out and about. You wished you could have seen his face when he received the bag full of Pocky you bought for him, as thanks for sharing his umbrella on that rainy day. “I didn’t know he has a sister.”

“She’s adopted, from what I heard,” Hitch comments. “But they’re super close. Her, Eren, and Armin.”

At that third name, you glance at Annie, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. She had a class with Armin last semester, and they were paired up for a big project. From then on, your roommate has been smitten with him, but she’ll never admit it out loud. You also recognize the name as one of Reiner’s pledge brothers from the same fraternity, though you’ve never met him personally. Knowing he’s close to Eren already gives you the impression that he’s a nice guy. 

The dinner ends with a tour of the house, not including the exclusive sleeping porch on the top floor, where all the sisters are forced to slumber beside each other. Right outside the entrance, you, Hitch, and Annie talk for a little while longer until your roommate announces, “My shift at the library is starting, so I have to leave now. Thanks for dinner Hitch!”

The three of you say your goodbyes, Hitch waving farewell from the door, you and Annie parting ways in opposite directions. It’s a clear sky tonight, the moon glowing brightly in the vast darkness, littered with barely visible stars. You take your time walking, enjoying the pleasantly cool air, admiring the other houses along Greek Row. From behind, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Coco.”

Before you face him, you curse under your breath, aware of exactly who it is. You find Reiner several feet away from you, presumably from the Delta Delta house. His fraternity is in the opposite direction, so he must have spotted you from afar, maybe heard you talking outside. You stand in place, waiting for him to catch up to you, ambushed. 

“Hey,” he says, with a sheepish grin.

You nod stiffly, unsure what to do next. It’s too late to make a run for it. Impossible to turn back the clock and sprint your way across campus. You should have known better, especially when you already assumed he’d be working there tonight. It doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped. 

“Are you heading back to your dorm?” he asks, hands in his pockets. 

You nod once more, voice stuck in your throat, unable to speak. 

“I’ll walk with you.” It’s not a question or a suggestion. It’s final. He’s determined to do it. 

Reluctant, you let him, pivoting on your heel towards the direction of your dorm, remaining silent. He stays beside you, hands in his pocket, glancing at you hesitantly. “What were you doing at Mu Phi?”

So he did notice you first. Eyes focused on the ground, you answer, “Hitch invited us for dinner.”

“Christa also invited you, remember? To the Delta Delta house.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You don’t mean to sound venomous; well, maybe you do. Why bother bringing that up?

“I’m just reminding you. She’s really nice, you know.”

You snap, annoyed and frustrated. “Yes, Reiner, I’m sure she is very nice. That’s why I think she’d understand why I refuse to go to that house for dinner.”

“Because of me?” 

“Of course it’s because of you!”

He sighs, scratching his arm excessively. Something he does when he’s anxious. “I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me. I thought we agreed to be friends. You won’t even respond to my texts. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay?”

“Okay? You want to know if I’m okay? Reiner, I haven’t been okay since the day you broke up with me.” 

“That’s why I’m trying to talk to you.”

You scoff, blood boiling. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. You’re the reason I’m not okay. You broke my heart.” It’s a cheap shot to blame him, but that’s what you do. Fire everything in your arsenal to defend yourself, to hurt him.

His expression turns sullen at your harsh words. “I couldn’t be your boyfriend anymore. It’s fucked up, I know. But I did what I thought was right. I didn’t want to string you along.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you talk to me about it? We tell each other everything. Why keep this away from me?” 

He chews on his lip, nervous. “I was scared, okay? Really scared to lose you. I thought if I started talking about it, you’d break up with me and hate me forever. I wasn’t ready for that.”  

You process this, not sure how you truly feel about it. On the one hand, you understand the fear of losing the most important person in your life. That’s what you two are to each other. Well, were. On the other hand, it isn’t fair that he makes decisions when he’s ready. What about you?

You arrive outside your dorm building, standing feet away from each other, your arms crossed over your chest, protecting your heart. When you don’t respond, he continues. “I care about you, Coco. You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life.”

 “You say that now, but eventually, somebody else will come along. Then what?”

Quietly, he replies, “I don’t know.”

You have to stand up for yourself. Hit him with the bitter truth even if it makes him uncomfortable. You’ve gone far too long agreeing to what he wants, following his plan, sacrificing your sanity to protect him. You don’t owe him anything. He decided to dump you when he was ready. That gives you free reign to do the same. “I don’t want to be a placeholder for whenever the next person comes along. Do you understand how painful that is? To know I’m temporary? I can’t be the most important person in your life. Not like this. That’s why we can’t be friends.” 

He stares at you, dumbfounded that you won’t concede to him. Disappointed that he can’t get what he wants this time, after so many years of doing so. This is what it’s like to have control, to stick up for yourself. Maybe there is some good to come out of this breakup. 

After a while, Reiner speaks, voice trembling, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this to me, Coco. I still…I still love – ”

“Don’t say it. Do not fucking say it.” You cover your ears, as if that will prevent your brain from finishing the rest of that sentence in your head. 

“I mean it, though. No matter what happens between us. I want you in my life.”

“Why is everything about what you want? Have you ever considered what I want?” You begin to pace back and forth on the pavement, arms jittery, increasingly erratic. 

A little louder now, a tinge of arrogance in his tone, he says, “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Pretty sure I have a good idea about what you want.”

“Well, you don’t. It’s different now. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.”

“How can you say this right now? You’re just going to throw us away?!”

“You did it first!” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

He steps towards you, hands in a desperate prayer, begging. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, Coco. I need you. I need you.” It’s the magic words that he so expertly chants to you. The ones that tug at your heartstrings, make you weak in the knees. And for a second, you consider taking everything back. Reach out and hold him, forget about the pain you’ve suffered these past two months and agree to be friends. Because you’d do anything to see him happy again. For this to be a long nightmare and to wake up together, perfectly back to normal.

But you don’t. And only because the entrance to your building suddenly swings open, revealing Eren at the door, inspecting the scene with a concerned expression on his face. “Is everything okay out here?”

Reiner glares at him for the interruption. “Who are you?”

Eren steps towards you, glancing at you and Reiner. “I’m Eren, the RA for this building. Heard some yelling and thought I should check it out.” 

“Reiner is leaving now,” you murmur, avoiding Eren’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for the commotion.” You turn to head inside, not bothering to wave goodbye to your ex, who stands there, watching you. Eren follows, sneaking glances at Reiner before swiping his ID at the door to let you both in.

“Coco,” he calls out. “Please.”

You ignore him, wiping your tears with the back of your shaky hands, listening to the door shut behind you. 

“Are you okay?” Eren asks, voice calm.

You face him, forcing a weak smile, eyes still wet. “Perfectly fine.” You turn to hurry into your room, overwhelmed and wanting to hide in the safety of your bed forever. 

Before you can, he grabs you gently by the hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you ever need to talk or anything, my door is always open for you.”

You mutter a timid, “Thank you,” then rush down the hall and into your room, heart pounding against your chest. His comforting words replay in your head, trying to replace all that was said between you and Reiner.  

~~~

At the end of the week, Eren hosts a game night in the common room of the dorm building. He’s excited to bond with his residents with pizza from his favorite local Italian joint and some good old-fashioned Mario Kart. He lays the food out on the table and sets up his Nintendo console to the TV, the familiar opening sequence playing on the screen. Then, he patiently waits for his first guest. Fifteen minutes pass and still no one shows up. Where is everybody? 

At the thirty-minute mark, he lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The pizzas are surely lukewarm now, and the same tune playing on the TV is starting to grate on his ears. He texts Mikasa and Armin, complaining about the complete lack of attendees. Immediately, he gets a call from his sister. When he picks up, she states, “Eren, nobody is there because it’s the Friday night after midterms.”

“So?”

“People are getting ready to party. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Armin is doing. That’s what everyone is doing.” 

Someone in the background yells, “Tell him to come out with us!” It’s Sasha’s voice. 

He groans, realizing his mistake. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not. Just come out with us. You deserve a break.”

He considers it for a few seconds, before he replies, “Thanks, but I’m gonna head to bed.”

Sasha boos him. “C’mon, Eren! Join us! It’ll be fun!”

“I’m tired, Sash. Next time.”

Believing she can’t be heard, she whispers to Mikasa, “He always says that.” Well, she’s not wrong. 

Eren bids farewell to his friends, wishing them fun tonight. He lays on the couch for a while longer, trying to not to be too devastated at this failure of an event. Finally standing up, he heads to the table to begin packing.

“Am I too late?”

He turns around, surprised by her voice. The resident from down the hall, Room 104. The girl he’s seen cry at least three times now, the most recent being earlier in the week, outside the dorms. A small confrontation with the guy who Eren assumes is her ex, the cause behind all the tears. He was hoping to run into her soon, to check if she’s doing alright. He’s delighted to find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face. 

“Hey,” he greets, waving at her. She steps towards him, inspecting the plethora of food on the table. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You’re the first person to show up, so we have plenty of food.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, opening the pizza box to grab a slice. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

He grins. “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me.”

As she settles in on the couch with her food, she explains, “I would have come earlier, but I was helping Annie get ready for a party.”

Eren takes the seat beside her, dropping a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “I guess everyone really is going out tonight,” he muses, recalling what Mikasa told him earlier. 

“Well, not everyone,” she reminds him, smiling. His chest swells with warmth seeing this side of her. Eyes free of tears, cheeks rounded with happiness, relaxed in his presence. He secretly resents Reiner, or whatever that guy’s name is, for putting her through all the misery she’s had to suffer. 

They eat their pizza, chatting about arbitrary topics like favorite toppings, best local restaurants around the town, even a silly bet about who will beat who in a race. The upbeat melody of the Mario Kart intro still playing in the background is no longer annoying now that Eren has company. 

One box only halfway finished, they wipe their hands clean of pizza grease to start the game, picking their favorite characters. Eren always opts for Yoshi, because of course he’s got to get the green dinosaur. She selects Toad, going on about how adorable she finds him, doing a decent impersonation of his high-pitched, bouncy voice, causing Eren to bust out laughing. They race, moving their bodies along with their controllers, bumping elbows and shoulders with bright smiles on their faces. She nudges him in the ribs when he tosses a red shell at her, knocking her off the course to take first place. He taps her knee with his when he slips on a banana peel she strategically lays out for him. It’s competitive, but not serious, both of them gloating and teasing one another at their victories. After going through most of the courses, they play battle mode, teaming up together to destroy CPUs on the most difficult levels. 

After exhausting most of the game to their heart’s contents, Eren checks his phone, shocked that it’s already past 11 o’clock. He glances at her, checking if she’s ready to leave once they shut down the game. She remains beside him, her attention focused on the piano in the corner of the room. Pointing at it, she asks, “We have a piano in here?”, clearly never noticing it before.

He chuckles. “Yeah we do. Do you play?”

She shakes her head, standing up to approach it, sitting on one side of the bench. He follows her, taking his place next to her. It’s only now that he realizes how close they’ve been all night. His heart starts to beat faster for some reason. 

Finger at a key, she presses on it, filling the room with a very out-of-tune C-note. “Do you play?” she asks.

“Not much, just the basics really. I’m better at guitar.”

“Acoustic?”

“Electric,” he answers, resting his hand on the piano, hovering his fingers over a chord.

“Electric guitar is so cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” It’s an innocent suggestion. But for whatever reason, Eren is shy about the idea of her being inside his room, watching him play his guitar. And for a split second, he imagines what other activities they can do with each other, in the privacy of his bedroom. He catches himself, mentally waving away the potentially inappropriate thoughts. 

Desperate to change the subject, he suggests, “Want me to teach you something?”

She nods, eager to learn. He starts his thumb on a C-note. “This is a C-major scale. It starts here,” he presses down, wincing at how out of tune it is. “And then you follow through with the rest of your fingers. That’s a very basic scale, without complicating it too much.”

She does it easily, smiling at the keys in front of her. “Now can you teach me Moonlight Sonata?” she jokes. 

He laughs. “How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star instead?”

“Fine,” she says, fake pouting. She’s really cute.

By midnight, she’s perfected the lullaby, enough for the two of them to sing along to it. Even with the notes out of tune, it’s still pleasant to listen to. He then shows her how to play the easiest version of Heart & Soul, a fun duet they manage to practice together within the hour. She’s a quick learner, which he appreciates. After their performance, she looks at him, smiling. “You’re a really good teacher.” 

He brushes his fingers along the keys. “That was my dream job growing up. I always wanted to be a teacher.”

“A music teacher?”

“No, an elementary school science teacher,” he admits. “Thought it’d be so cool to blow their minds with little experiments or facts about the living things.” He stares distantly, a longing grin on his face, fantasizing an imaginary world where he’s pursuing a career he enjoys. 

“So, what made you want to become a doctor instead?” 

At this point, he’s speaking candidly, no longer worried about hiding the truth. He’s comfortable with her. “My dad. He’s a doctor, and it’s pretty much expected of me.”

“Are you enjoying it so far?”

“No, but at the end of the day, I’ll be helping people. And that’s what matters right?” 

There’s a small pause in the conversation as she pushes on one of the keys, the note ringing out in the temporary quiet. “Teachers help people too. More than what society gives them credit for. And besides, no one wants to go to a doctor who isn’t happy being a doctor, right?”

He faces her, processing her statement. “I guess I never thought about that.”

She continues, drumming her fingers lightly on the piano. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that forcing yourself to be happy doesn’t actually make you happy. It’s silly to say that out loud, like it’s so obvious. But I’ve made a lot of excuses, pretending I was fine with decisions made on my behalf without my feelings being considered. It was always easier to go along with it, avoid confrontation or an argument. But at what cost? Sacrificing my own happiness? It isn’t worth it, especially when it’s your life that you’re living, nobody else’s.”

This is about her ex. There’s a strong urge to ask her about it, offer a lending ear to listen to what else is on her mind. But he doesn’t question it further. The words she speaks to him resonate. Although they’re both going through different struggles in their lives, she understands him better than he expects her to. Maybe more than anyone in his circle of friends right now. 

“I have a friend who’s an education major. Erwin Smith. His dad is also a teacher. I can give you his contact info if you want to talk to him?” she offers.

“I don’t know,” he responds hesitantly. He’s never considered changing his major. He can already picture the faces his father makes, disdainful and disappointment at his son “downgrading” his career. 

“It doesn’t hurt to have it, right? Just in case?” 

He thinks about it carefully before he eventually relents, whipping his phone out to type out the information she recites to him. She’s right; it doesn’t hurt to have it. It doesn’t mean anything. 

Phone still in his hand, he abruptly blurts out, “We should exchange numbers.” Almost instantly, he regrets it, aware at how inappropriate that would be. But when she grins at him, nodding, he’s immediately relieved. 

“I’m assuming this will be your personal number and not your RA emergency line?” she smirks.

Laughing, he confirms, “Yes, my personal number. I, um, enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. We should definitely do this again.” He passes her his phone as she does the same. 

“You’re teaching me Moonlight Sonata next, remember?” she jokes, tapping her number into his screen.

“Yeah, of course.”

She slips her phone back into her pocket. “Also, if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to you, I’m just down the hall.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line,” he teases, nudging her elbow with his. 

“Well, you’ve helped me out way more than you know, so I want to do the same for you. Rely on me, okay? We’re friends now.”

Outside the room, students begin to stumble through the hall, back from their night of partying. Eren checks his phone, surprised to read 1:35 AM on the screen. “It’s already past 1. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“Don’t be. I wanted to be here with you. Thank you for hosting this.”

“Thank you for being the only person to show up.” 

They gaze at each other, smiling. He wants to stay like this a little while longer, but he knows it has to end. At least, for tonight. They’re friends now, and he’ll be able to enjoy that warm, vibrant smile more often, he hopes. 

“Anyways, we should probably sleep soon,” she suggests, glancing at the pizza boxes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“Thanks. Maybe we can hand some of these out. I bet someone out there has the munchies right now.”

She giggles. “Great idea, Mr. RA.”

They tidy up, clearing the room of trash and putting away the video game console back in Eren’s knapsack. She carries it with her while Eren balances the pizzas in his hands, offering a box to the passing residents that are not-so-discreetly drunk. By the time they make it to his room, he’s only got one left, deeming the event an overall success. Especially now that he’s made a friend from it. 

She sets the bag down on the floor, watching him unlock the door. “I guess this is goodnight,” she says, giving him a small wave as she begins to step backwards down the hall, facing him.

“Yeah. I guess it is. Sweet dreams, okay?”

“Sweet dreams, Eren,” she repeats, turning on her heel to walk to her room. 

~~~

You lay in bed, listening to Annie’s drunken snores beside you, mind focused on your new friend Eren. Snuggling closer to your pillow, you smile to yourself, happy for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s the most fun you’ve had this semester, and most importantly, it’s the longest you’ve gone without sulking about Reiner. 

It’s in this moment that you realize the baby steps you’ve taken so far don’t seem so small anymore. Things are finally starting to look up. 

Taglist:

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @mrs-wolfwood @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

#eren jaeger #reiner braun #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren x reader #eren x f!reader #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader #reiner x f!reader #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #aot x reader #give you blue #eren fluff #attack on titan fluff #give you blue series #eren smut #reiner smut #attack on titan smut

[irisintheafterglow]

End Game #2 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: you sneak out to play volleyball.

word count: 1.5k

cw/tags: mild language, jjk volleyball au, misunderstandings, a little angst but nothing too bad, commitment issues lol, subtle pining !!!!

note: ok part 2 because this au has given me motivation again. also i don't know if i should make the rest of the team the second-gen jjk sorcerers (yuuji, megumi, nobara, inumaki, etc) so if you have any thoughts on that lmk. i'm thinking yes make them part of the team but that'd negate their age gap so as long as that's fine i think it'll work. anyways hope you enjoy!!

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3

A knocking on your window jolts you from your daze as you stare blankly at the unfinished document in front of you. It was only supposed to take two hours, you told yourself, but those two hours had doubled as you kept rewriting and re-wording every sentence you typed. Squeezing your eyes shut, you rest your face in your hands and pray for the teacher to postpone the due date. 

More insistent knocking draws your attention again, despite willfully ignoring it the first time. You lean back in your chair and groan, waiting for him to become impatient and start his Shakespearean monologuing. 

“Are you going to make me sit out here in the cold? In the dead of night? How cruel is this earthly plane–” You slide the window open, meeting Satoru’s eyes with a tired stare, and his voice catches in his throat. “Wow," he manages. “You look like shit.” You blink once, twice, a hand leaning on the window frame and the other on your hip. 

“What are you doing here, Satoru?” 

The mouth turns into a sly grin. “I need a partner.”

It’s late, and you’re unfazed. “I have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not what I mean, wait…what?” You laugh at the genuine confusion that paints his face, turning back into your room to grab your shoes. He slides through the window easily like he’d done a million times before, landing softly on the carpet and leaning back against the ledge. Poorly masked concern leaks into his voice and you smirk. “Since when were you seeing someone?” 

“Since never, Satoru. I already have my hands full dealing with you and your team; a relationship would essentially be another item on my schedule.” You slip on mismatched socks and some worn-out sneakers, shutting your laptop with a scowl. The essay would have to wait until you were done taking out your frustration on a volleyball. He watches you intently, blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. You’d known Satoru for years, but you always found that it was most challenging to read his emotions at night. It was like certain emotions were nocturnal. By day, Satoru was the goofiest person you knew; by night, you sometimes caught him staring at you in ways you knew he didn’t look at anyone else. You pushed whatever motives he may have into the back of your mind, dismissing his nightly flirtations the same way you ignored the daytime ones. 

You stand in front of him expectantly with your hands on your hips, and he peers up at you, eyes twinkling like the stars. “Shall we?” His fake chivalry makes the corner of your mouth turn up. 

“We need a ball first, Satoru.” You maneuver through your window after him, allowing him to briefly place his hands on your hips as you jump down from the ledge. His hands linger on your body for a moment before his senses come back. 

“I left it in your yard.” 

Your mouth drops in disbelief. “In the flowerbed?” You’re both whisper-yelling in front of your house, and you hope none of the neighbors decided to take a late-night stroll. 

He puts his hands up in surrender, shrugging as you turn on your phone flashlight to find the ball. “There was nowhere else to put it!” 

“I swear if you crushed those pink asters that I’ve been–”

“That you’ve been tending for years, I know.” You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you bend over, fishing out the ball among the dark foliage. “You should grow red asters.” 

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Satoru,” you quip, tossing him the ball and running a hand over the petals to ensure they weren’t damaged too badly.  

He takes your spunk in stride, falling into step next to you. “I think they’re pretty. D’you know they’re supposed to symbolize devotion?” 

Your body runs on autopilot, crossing neighborhood sidewalks with Satoru at your side as you head toward the small park a few blocks from your house. He spins the ball on a slender finger absentmindedly as you walk. He continues his attempts to convince you to plant red asters the entire way to the park, even after you’ve taken your regular position across from him near the playground. “I’ll think about it, okay? Will you stop telling me how to garden now?”

“I wasn’t telling you to do anything; I was just suggesting it.” He throws you the ball, underhanded, and your arms move together mechanically to bump it back to him. 

“Yeah, just like you were suggesting that I call you captain earlier today.” Nimble fingers set it gracefully back to you, and you almost miss spiking the ball watching it arch in the air. 

He receives it easily, bumping it back. “I still don’t understand why you refuse.”

“Because I’m not one of your players, Satoru. I’m outside of the game. I make sure you all have water bottles and stuff.” Set. 

“You’re still just as much part of the team as anyone else is.” Spike. 

“Agree to disagree, then.” Bump. 

There was a separate reason as to why you didn’t want to call him captain, one that you would take to your grave. It was a line, you considered it, just like acknowledging his flirting. If you crossed that line, you were truly integrated into the team, truly connected to Satoru. You were the team’s manager, still separate from the rest of the players. As nice as it was to have somewhere to go after school besides your house, it was just as nice having a foot in the door just in case things suddenly went south. It was how you were, and you weren’t in the mood to verbalize your commitment issues with the one guy who’d probably tease you the most about it. 

Satoru’s face is unreadable again as he sets the ball, but you could see the gears turning in his head. “Are we still having that practice match with Kyoto next week?” 

Of all the things he would ask you, you didn’t think it would be practice-related. “As far as I’m aware, yeah. They offered to buy dinner if we won, by the way.” Spike. 

“Does that mean we have to pay for their food if we lose?” Bump. 

“Probably.” Set. 

“Then, no. Definitely not.” Spike. 

“Why?” You stick your tongue out teasingly. “Got plans?” Bump. 

“No, not yet at least.” Set. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spike. 

Bump. He shrugs nonchalantly, running a hand through his moonlit hair that you knew he only did when he was nervous. “Was thinking about asking someone out after the match.”

Set. “Oh.” The surprise moves past your lips before you can stop it, and you kick yourself mentally for feeling a bit of disappointment at his plans. You tended to get dinner with Satoru after practice matches, always some shitty fast food place where he talked about how much the other team sucked as he wolfed down three burgers. Sometimes Suguru or Shoko or Nanami would join you, but the one constant after hosting rival teams was dinner with Satoru. His intentions bothered you deep in your chest, but you couldn’t figure out why. 

Spike. “Yeah.” A layer of awkwardness settles between you two that you’d never felt before. It wasn’t that you were distressed that he was gonna ask someone on a date; your body just felt physically unable to create words. 

Bump. “Well, have fun with that then.” You fight to keep your voice even, eyes on the ball to look away from Satoru’s piercing stare. He was trying to read you, and you weren’t going to let him. 

Set. “Aren’t you going to ask me who they are?”

Spike, a hard spike. The ball speeds toward Satoru faster than he expects it, forcing him to catch it instead of sending it back toward you. “No, Satoru. Unlike the rest of the country’s population, I really couldn’t give two shits about who you decide is worthy of your attention.” The words fall from your mouth with more venom than you intend, and you bite down on your bottom lip guiltily. “I’m sorry. It’s late.” 

He watches you again, mysterious eyes analyzing your thoughts like a science experiment. “Yeah, it’s alright. It’s my fault, anyway, making you come out this time of night.” He smiles one of those make-everything-better smiles, and you feel a little lighter that he wasn’t too angry. “I’ll take you home.” 

Several minutes that felt like hours later, you’re back in your room as Satoru sits on the windowsill again, about to leave. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’m gonna ask them to dinner.” 

“Really? Why not?”

With his back to you, you had no idea what his expression was. You didn’t know if he was angry with you, but something in his voice told you he was hiding something. 

“Just doesn’t seem like the right time.” Before you could formulate a response, the old Satoru is back in a snap, tilting his head toward you playfully. “But, hey. You never know. Maybe someday I’ll get the balls to ask them,” he murmurs before he disappears, leaping down from your window into the night. 

You can’t tell if you’re relieved or disappointed that he wasn’t going to ask out that mystery person.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto #satoru gojo #jjk volleyball au

[dragonrider9905]

If you could get to know and/or write with another writer (or more) who would it be?

Hi Anon!!!!!

Thank you SO much for the ask!!!!! This is such a fun one, and I appreciate you thought to send it my way!!!!!

Hoooooo boi, there are SO many cool people on here and AO3, I hope I get them all because SO many people deserve an honorable mention at least. There are also many artists who'd I'd be honored to have work collaborated with.

*Quick disclaimer, I may not tag everyone because I work long hours so if I've forgotten you, it isn't intentional, my brain is just stupid. So I shall begin!!!!

First and foremost, my dear writing friend @eclec-tech. She is literally the coolest. Her stories?!?!?!? Some of the best AU and OCs I've ever read. I will love and ship Tech/Phee, but Miran Threst has first place in my heart for Tech (even over my own OC!) She's read a lot of my work, encouraged me so much in the beginning of my time writing and even now when I get very disheartened with my progress. She's the reason I'm here on Tumblr! Her stories are just so cool. And she's a cool person.

Of course there is my bestie @photogirl894 🥰she shares my innate love for Hunter and the Bad Batch. Her ideas are SO fun and she's so fun to chat with. I've read a lot of her work before we met and I fangirled from a distance til she invited me to chat. I'm still so in awe of just talking to her, it'd be a dream to write something with her.

@apocalyp-tech-a is a moot I'd love to get to know more. Her work is freakn amazing!!!!! I know we share a love of many things, especially poetry. Her things never disappoint. Her Tech anthologies blow me away. She's so sweet and humble too.

@lizartgurl (or @jedipoodoo) I hold in awe for her medieval Batchers. I'd love to get to know her a bit more and I'D BE SO DOWN to write something with her sometime. Goodness, Hunter is beautiful on his own but BAM medieval Hunter? Just made him so much more so. She's been an inspiration to me and my own writing.

@arctrooper69 is SOOOO fun to work with!!!! She wrote "As Iron Sharpens Iron" and asked me to beta read. IT'S SO FREAKN FUN to work with her as we add fine details to her already freakn amazing story! (seriously folks, go check it out)

@carolinetano7567 has some amazing stuff I've loved seeing on here and I know we share a love of the Batch and Wingfeather! It'd be fun to collaborate someday.

@trapezequeen is such a fun presence on here too. We've discussed story ideas and it's always so fun!!!!!

Quick break to shoutout people I don't know if they're on here or not -- my great friend who I write "Hunter's Stress Journal" with, Ghost Cookie, SlimTech, Yazstar, kaydear, Cuthian, and a few other Ao3 authors I majorly fangirl over their works.

@ghostofskywalker has so many fun ideas and so many cool works and is always so sweet when I submit requests. I'm always awestruck by the work. Not to mention all the cool exchanges Ghost puts together? Those are always so much fun and so cool to participate in.

Of course there's dear @masterjedilenaaa, one of the first writers I discovered in fanfiction. I am always awestruck by the amount of detail and fine work done in all of the requests I've submitted. I think I'd faint if she'd ask me to collab.

@ladysongmaster is SUCH a cool person!!!!!! and all of the amazing stories she writes?!?!?!?! pleeeeeeease colllabing with her would be mindblowing!!!!!!

I'd love to get to know @moonstrider9904 more. I've seen a lot of her posts and she's so fun to interact with!!!!!

@klmwrites has so many different, COOOOL, like freakn cool, ideas. All of the ones I've read have left me at the edge of my seat, needing, wanting more. To work with someone so amazing and creative?!?!?! I think I'd just be too awestruck.

I have to have at least an honorable mention for @techs-stitches and @ovaa-bi-bia. They've been SO supportive of me in the past. I don't know if they write, but I love seeing their posts and getting to know them.

@frostycatblr-fandom-files is a favorite pop up of mine too. I love seeing the artwork and the stories!!!!!!! Collabing would be fun!!!!

@imabeautifulbutterfly is such an amazing, sweet, person!!!!! And the creativity?!?!?!?! the beauty with which she writes?!?!?! I would LOVE to collaborate with her. She's been a beautiful soul and a great friend <3 She might be last on the list but CERTAINLY not the least!!!! <3

Gee, I know there are more, but like my disclaimer earlier stated, my brain isn't at full steam.

So in short...a lot of people XD Thanks for taking the time to read my long winded response :) and for asking!!!! 🥰❤️

#dragonrider9905 answers #so many amazing people here it's hard to choose #it's like picking your favorite child #you can't

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

Hi!!! I've really been enjoying your writing, especially Albedo's spicy reading one I blushed and giggled so hard 🥰 it was very sweet and cute!!!

Which leads me into my request if that's okay! Can I please request something sweet and spicy with Albedo? I adore him so much and I don't really have much of an idea so really anything with him would be great!!

I'll probably be an anon for a while cause I'm shy so you can call me 🦊 fox anon if you want!

I hope you're having a great day!!!

Can i get a muthha fuckin uhhhhhhhhh.... Albedo deluxe with extra sweet and sour sauce. 🍔🍟🥤

Lmao fr tho, thank you 🦊 anon for both your praises and your request! I hope this fills your saucy Albedo needs! 💝

Hold Still, My Muse.

Albedo had a vision of you that must be made into reality.

Tags: GN!Reader x Albedo, Technically SFW, PG-13, Suggestive, Pining, Confessions, Everyone always writes Albedo as a dick but he is a polite boy FIGHT ME

The first time Albedo drew you was in passing. A candid sketch that a quiet man gifted to you without reason. When your paths crossed once more, the alchemist asked so politely for a moment of your time and you found it impossible to say no. He asked to draw you again, just as you were, sitting there in the sunlight. It felt awkward having someone stare so intently at your every detail. Albedo worked silently without mentioning how stiff your stance became under his gaze. That just won’t do…

You received a letter from the blond knight only a few days later. He’d like to see you again, but to share a meal this time. It was odd to receive such an invitation from the recluse Kreideprinz, but you were no less delighted to accept.

Albedo was quite charming when he put in the effort. Over dinner he asked to learn about you and your interests. He listened patiently, like he was committing it all to memory. In turn, you learned about Albedo's endlessly fascinating experiments and even about his artwork. You became so engrossed in the man's mind that time nearly got away from you. When Albedo asked you to pose for him once again, your anxieties were easier to push away in his familiar company.

You grew fond of both the alchemist's attention and presence. It became common for Albedo to take you to view scenery around Mondstadt, sit and chat, and eventually take his sketchpad out to draw you. Your heart would skip a beat whenever he held your chin to position your face toward him. Sometimes, you would even do it on purpose. After Albedo finished his sketch, you would both carry on and enjoy the rest of your date evening together.

Curiosity got the better of you regarding how often the blond went out of his way to draw others.

"Hm.." Albedo took a moment to ponder, as if he never considered this. "Besides you, I can't say I've ever went to this extent to draw someone."

You were hid a blush when he invited you to his home for a more private session. Albedo explained how he wanted to test some paints that took longer to dry, thus the process would be quite long. For your comfort he suggested his abode as a solution. Your mind hardly processed the boy’s reasoning, still stuck on being alone together in his home.

-

You regretted your choice of attire as soon as you arrived. The anticipation of the evening had you feeling bold. The revealing blouse and skin tight pants under your coat felt far too forward now that Albedo was right in front of you. If it didn’t mean trekking down the snowy mountain again, you would’ve already made an excuse to leave and reschedule.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’m almost done setting up.” Albedo gestured past his lab and toward a room further back. You entered and held your breath when you saw it was a small neat bedroom. There was very little in the room, just a fireplace, a bed, a couple of chests, and an easel set up towards the room's center. You sputtered out a question, asking where you should sit.

"The bed. We may take a while and it's the most comfortable seat I can offer. Plus, the lighting would be optimal." Albedo stated simply, entering in the room with the last of his supplies. You could only nod at his oblivious logic and take a tentative seat on the edge of his bed. There was no way you could take your coat off now, you were sure you'd burst into flames. The blond didn't question your choice and proceeded to place his paints while letting you get settled.

Maybe you would burst into flames anyway. The healthy fire kept the small room toasty enough that you felt suffocated under your thick coat. It took less than five minutes for you to feel the sweat forming on your brow. You willed yourself to stand strong and hold your pose, maybe he would finish quickly if you were perfectly still.

"Do you mind if I sit beside you?" Albedo's voice cut though your thoughts like a searing knife through butter. You blinked in confusion and shock, unable to find your voice you shook your head and scooted over. Your eyes followed the man's movements as he put down his tools and drew closer. The mattress dipped beside you when he sat and you could feel his gaze on you. You could bare to look just yet.

"Did you know when I began my drawings, they were simply to illustrate my notes? I felt I could study things in far more depth when I sketched their every last detail." The alchemists spoke casually, as if the two of you were sharing over a meal. You turned to look at him, made curious by the man's words.

"I found that the process was something I also enjoyed. It became calming to just observe and create. My mind could stay clear and calm." Albedo continued, "But I have never experienced having a subject enthrall me as much as you."

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung slightly open by the sudden confession.

"My mind isn't quite clear when I draw you. I feel inspired and challenged. I have yet to capture it truly on paper or canvas. I try again and again, and although beautiful, it doesn't truly capture what you evoke." You processed each word over and over in your mind. Finally, you worked up the courage to ask why he was telling you this.

"When you get nervous, you close off from me. I wanted to make my intentions clear so that you may have no reservations about me. You're someone I cherish as an inspiration and as a companion. So please, tell me how I can make you feel as such." Albedo told you earnestly.

You recognized there was vulnerability in his expression and that he was asking for the same. There really wasn't really anything standing in your way but your own fear. For this man, you were willing to be brave and show him what he wanted, what he all but pleaded for. Your expression softened and you told him you were alright to continue now.

Albedo returned to his easel and allowed you to get comfortable again. His eyes followed intrigued while you stood and started to undo your coat. You watched the man's every move while the garment fell to the floor. He didn't bother to hide the way his gaze followed every curvature of your body, as if committing it to memory again. Albedo's features held a mild expression but his body language showed he was restless. You sat farther up the bed, posing modestly yet arching your body ever so slightly for show.

"That position, while... appealing, doesn't lend itself to the lighting. Your leg, perhaps, bend it a little." Albedo, attempting keeping his composure, guided your pose.

"Like this?" You moved slowly, bending your leg up. The position now seemed far more provocative.

"Ah, No." Albedo tried to correct himself, not wanting to insinuate he was trying to put you in a questionable position. "I meant the other way. I apologize."

"Can you show me?" You ask feeling particularly bold now that you've received a reaction. "It would help me a lot." You added when you noticed a small hesitation.

"Of course." Albedo nodded. The blond stepped away from his painting and towards you perched on the bed. His hand hovered over your leg for a moment before looking you in the eye, "May I?" he asked ever so politely. You nodded in response and felt his warm hands begin to guide you.

You asked him how else you could improve your posture and watched as Albedo became eager to teach. Each touch becoming less and less cautious than the last, until the man had you pinned under him. You held each others charged gaze while he gripping each of your wrists against the mattress.

"This isn't very chivalrous of me as a knight." He breathed, looking you over again and again as if expecting you to ask him to stop. You let him observe you and even offered a open view of your neck and chest.

"Isn't it the job of a researcher to uncover what is before you." You remarked, not moving an inch. Albedo unclasped your wrists and you feared he may have had second thoughts. Before you could say anything, arms wrapped around your waist and his face was buried into your neck. A low rumble was spoken across your heated skin.

"Then I'm going to need you in a few positions for research purposes. I'll have to sketch down a few observations for reference as well."

<A/N: Ngl this got away from me a little. I expected this to be far shorter but it I think too hard. I hope you enjoy!

#albedo x reader #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #albedo kreideprinz #albedo genshin impact #oneshot #drabble

[hippolotamus]

Hello friends, work has been kicking my ass and I am soooooo behind on tags. I am slowly but surely catching up and looking forward to reading all the things! So, small confession... I've been reworking pieces of come close (let me be home) so some of the snippets might look familiar from before. Hoping the writing beans will soon allow me to make new words. Until then, have this Eddie and Christopher moment before the first ball (all prev snippets here) 😘

“This awful, cursed thing— Argh!” Eddie drops the ends of his bowtie in frustration. It’s not like he even wants to attend this wretched ball tonight. Least of all to placate his mother.

It would be different if he were going as someone who could casually stand in the background, sipping lemonade and observing his surroundings. If only it were that simple. Instead he’s expected to not only be there, but socialize, dance, and interact with potential partners. How is he meant to choose who he’ll spend the rest of his life with – someone to care for his son – based on how well they can perform the quadrille or regurgitate meaningless facts? It’s utter insanity.

“Daddy?” The timid voice reaches out from behind him.

Eddie turns to see Christopher hovering in the doorway, watching intently. The welcome sight is enough for the weight of tonight’s expectations to fall away, finally allowing him to breathe. He goes to his son, picking him up and drinking in the surprised sound.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Christopher’s nose scrunches in amusement at the endearment before he gets a very serious look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

“I wish,” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “It would make things way more interesting. Although, honestly, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Why don’t you then?” Christopher blinks owlishly behind his glasses.

Eddie envies his youthful ignorance for not yet understanding the pressures and politics of adulthood. He sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand, trying to think of an explanation that isn’t an outright lie. With everything that’s happened in Christopher’s short life, Eddie always strives to be honest with him.

“Well, because,” he stretches the words out as his brain continues to configure them into an acceptable arrangement. “I– promised your abuela I would go.”

Chris nods thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer he’s been given. But, of course, he’s always been more perceptive than Eddie gives him credit for.

“Is this because Abuela wants me to have a new mom?” His voice is quieter, the tone colored with hesitation. Eddie wants to somehow pull him closer, to carve a space beneath his ribs to keep him safe.

“Not a new one, exactly. You know that no one could ever replace your mother. This would be someone else to love and take care of you.”

“But I thought that’s why we have Carla,” Chris protests.

Eddie chuckles at his son’s logic and thinks he might be the one person who could match wits with Helena Diaz. “You’re right. She does both of those things. Carla loves and cares about you very much. It’s just… your abuela has some different ideas. She’s a little stuck in the past sometimes.”

“Okay.” Christopher grins brightly, removing any traces of his serious persona. “Then I hope you have fun and find someone nice for us.”

“Me, too, bud. Me, too.”

Eddie’s brought back to reality when his valet announces the carriage is ready. He presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple and gently sets him on the floor. “Be good for Carla?”

“I’m always good for Carla.” Christopher proudly puffs out his chest.

“Of course. How could I forget?” Eddie teases. “I must be remembering a different little boy that got covered in mud while playing and had to be scrubbed clean.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “One time,” he mumbles.

Eddie snorts as he jogs down the staircase, hoping in vain to burn off some of his nervous energy that’s returned. His cloak is nearly arranged when Christopher calls from the upper floor.

“Daddy! Your tie!”

Right. Eddie sighs and makes a final attempt to knot the material together in front of the hall mirror. Miraculously he makes it in one pass this time and turns with a flourish so Christopher can make his assessment.

His son beams down at him with a toothy grin. “Be good for Abuela!”

Eddie responds with an exaggerated bow, drinking in the giggle that floats down. He snaps it up, like something he could keep in his pocket. A protective barrier from whatever he might have to face tonight. With a heavy sense of dread sitting like a stone in his stomach, Eddie waves goodbye and walks outside to the carriage. As he steps up to the plush, velvet, forest green bench, he wishes it felt less like marching to the Tower of London.

“Ready, sir?” His driver asks from the front.

No. “Ready.”

tagged by @malewifediaz @hoodie-buck @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend thank you loves!

no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @spotsandsocks (she posted a new chapter of shifter fic so go check that out!) @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @thewolvesof1998 @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @maygrantgf @statueinthestone @indestructibleheart and anyone else who wants to share 💖

#long snip today #because i crave validation #plus eddie and chris are just the best #buddie wip #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #hippo writes

[wordsofhoneydew]

happy wednesday <3

thank you to my lovelies @anincompletelist @suseagull04 @itsmaybitheway @eusuntgratie @heysweetheart-writes @rockyroadkylers @magicandarchery for tagging me !! your snippets were absolutely scrumptious

i started my first song fic!! so i’ll be sharing a longer snippet than i usually would:

+

Henry is walking back now, taking careful steps around the crowd of dancing people as he tries not to spill the tray of shots he’s holding. A high pitched giggle escapes his lips as he sets it down on the table in front of Alex, but Alex never strays his focus away from Henry’s face. The way his blue eyes gleam reminding him of the water at his father’s lake house back in Texas— dark and all consuming—as he looks back at Alex so intently. He could get lost in them forever.

just another blip in my heart:

He’s laughing at some suggestive joke Pez makes, head tipped back and smile completely unguarded. The sheen sweat on his cheekbones makes his skin glow under the luminescent lights of the bar, as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. And Alex just watches him in quietude, utterly infatuated with Henry’s natural beauty. It makes his heart clench in his chest; knowing that he can’t have him, that Henry doesn’t feel the same way as he does.

So he looks away begrudgingly, grabbing another shot and downing it without a flinch or grimace, hoping that the buzz under his skin and the raucous music will eventually drown out the thoughts of the pretty blond man in front of him.

Then Nora is grabbing Alex by his wrist and pulling him up to the dance floor. He bites back a groan as he gives in to her, and places his hands on her waist.

“What’s up with you, Alejandro? You’ve been sulking all night.” Damn Nora’s perceptiveness and ability to read right through him. He thought he did a fair job at hiding the looming feeling of dejection that comes to him whenever Henry’s around or weighing heavily in his thoughts.

”Nothing.” Alex catches a glimpse of Henry watching them and turns around so that his back is facing toward him. Out of sight out of mind.

Nora looks over his shoulder as she continues to dance, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “Oh I see, still pining over Henry?”

Alex rolls his eyes as he tries to keep up with the pace of Nora’s movements. “What d’ya think?” he practically grumbles. “It’s not like I can turn off my feelings like a fuckin’ light switch.”

“Loosen up, man. Or just talk to him. That white boy is literally in love with you, stop being a coward and just go for it.”

A coward. That’s exactly what Alex is, and if it means it will protect his heart from inevitable rejection, then so fucking be it.

“I need another drink.” He mumbles, not caring whether Nora hears or not.

The night fades away into Alex stumbling through the front door of his apartment, still buzzed with adrenaline and alcohol running through his system.

After a much needed shower and change into a comfortable pair of sweats, the fuzziness subsides, his feelings begin to feel tangible, more real. His mind replays the events of the night; prim and proper Henry loosened up after a few drinks of gin and tonic, how he swayed his hips subtly to Get Low and smiled to himself as other people gyrated against each other. He recalls how they caught each other's eyes every so often, then noticing how Henry quickly averted his eyes every time. Tonight he was beautiful and glowing, and absolutely captivating in the way he just was—In the way he always is. Alex misses the person he was before he found himself enamored with Henry; gregarious and the life of the fucking party. Now he’s stuck in an endless loop of pining after someone he can never have and convincing himself he’s over it.

sometimes I think of calling you up:

Alex is sprawled out on his couch with his TV playing something he could care less about. As suspected, the effects of alcohol can only do so much to drown out the despair of unrequited love, his mind no longer buzzing from the sound of club music, but circling around only one person’s name over again. Henry Henry Henry.

+

@agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @absolute-audacity @anchoredarchangel @bitbybitwrites @saturntheday @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @nocoastposts @littlemisskittentoes @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @ninzied @rmd-writes @orchidscript @myheartalivewrites @i-am-freyja @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @tinyarmedtrex @gayrootvegetable @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @captainjunglegym @sherryvalli @alasse9 @read-and-write- @sparklepocalypse @songliili @sunnysideprince @priincebutt @bigassbowlingballhead @o0anapher0o

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #rwrb movie #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #alex x henry #rwrb fic #rwrb alex #song fic #Spotify

[nivisdreaming]

Kinks And Cookies

Frustrated by the trials and tribulations of solo BDSM, Y/N comes to their dear friend Eddie Munson for support. Probably shouldn’t have chosen the best friend they’re also in love with for that role, but at least they’ve got cookies as a distraction from the heartache?

Eddie Munson x Sub!Reader

WC: ~800

Tags: Not smut but heavy kink themes, hurt/comfort turned love confession?, self indulgent af, drabble, gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV (you/yours and Y/N use)

Eddie cocks his eyebrow from where he lounges in a dining room chair, a lit joint hanging from his fingertips as he intently listens to your words. “Wait, so you’ve been doing solo play? As a sub?”

“Yeah, and it’s.. fine. Less than ideal for my style, but I’m a big kid, I can take care of myself. Porn and daydreaming works well enough. It’s good enough. For little while, anyway. But that’s not the issue,” you bite your lip and shuffle in your seat, “The problem is afterwards. Aftercare and that stuff. You know how I am with self care. It’s even worse when I’m…” Your words trail off.

“Fucked dumb?” He finishes for you, a smirk on his face as he clearly tries to suppress laughter.

“Eds! This is serious!” You huff and pull your knees up to your chest, burrowing your warm face and wide eyes away from him. “It’s gotten really bad sometimes, Eds, if I don’t do enough I end up dropping.” You take a shaky breath and try to wipe some of tears collecting on your lash-line on your pants. “That’s really scary alone, Eddie. I hate every second of it, and there’s nothing I can even do but wait it out when all I wanna do is feel good.”

A frown replaces Eddie’s teasing expression. He’s heard about subdrop plenty, helped a few playpartners through it once or twice. He’s even had to deal with topdrop himself after a particularly rough scene. He knows the emotions your trying to articulate. The anxiety that eats away at you, the shame and guilt that overshadows all else, the primal sadness and depression that you just can’t explain because there’s not always a reason beyond the physiological. He’s putting out the joint now, quick to move from his seat to squat next to you. A tentative hand reaches for your knee, and he begins to rub small circles over the soft fabric. “I’m sorry I laughed, Y/N.” He can hear your muffled sniffling from where your face is buried, and it’s really tugging on his heartstrings. “What can I do to help? What’d you want me for?”

“Just, hold me. For a few minutes. Til the bad feelings go away.” You feel Eddies arms move up to wrap around your torso, and you’re carefully shifted into his lap and pressed against his chest, his chin resting atop your head. His hand goes to caress your hair and a sob rips from your throat, stilling his breathing.

“Y/N. Maybe this is a bad time, but could I ask you something?” Eddie’s words come out tentatively. You nod from where you lay, not trusting your voice to hold steady. He mutters close to your ear, “Why don’t you have a dom? If being without one isn’t what you want, why be on your own?”

You feel your breath catch, and he worries you can feel how his heart skips a beat at your reply. “There’s… a guy. Who I want to be my dom, but I’m too scared to ask.” You take a heavy pause. “He barely even knows I exist in that capacity, but being with someone besides him would still feel wrong. I’m waiting to either get over him or work up the courage to ask him out. Both seem impossible.” Your words come out mumbled, but at least the talking is enough over a distraction to get you to stop crying.

Eddie is so glad your head is still buried in his chest. You always had such a way of reading him, like you could see his eyes and how they reflected the light and use it to know exactly how he felt. He didn’t want you seeing that moment the hope turned to jealousy turned to heartbreak. God, this had been a rollercoaster of a conversation, even by the weird standards you two had grown accustomed too.

You both sit in silence for awhile, enjoying each other’s embraces, terrified to be the first to move. It feels like centuries have passed by the time the alarm for the cookies you technically were here to bake in the first place sounds through the trailer, and you have to peel yourself from Eddie’s hold reluctantly. He stays on the floor, but you can feel his gaze on you even as you turn to pull the metal sheet from the oven.

“Whoever he is, tell him. You don’t… you don’t deserve to hurt, Y/N. Not like this.” His sightline doesn’t budge when you turn your head around to look at him. There’s some emotion dripping from everything about him, from the hunched way he sits, to the gruff tone of his voice, to the way he blinks a little too often, like he’s trying to clear something away. For once, you can’t quite determine what it is. It only spurs you on.

“It’s you, Eddie. For fucks sake, it’s always been you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #sub!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson drabble

[thestalwartheart]

fascination

Prompt fill for @ithinkthereforiamfandom who gave me a bunch of prompts from the soft fic prompt meme. I went with 'slow dancing.'

Read below or on AO3. Comments/kudos/reblog tags are much appreciated 💖

“Now, with your right—no, right—” With a huff and a laugh, Bond stopped moving.

“Shit. Sorry.”

Bond looked down to see scuffs on his shoes from several encounters with Q’s two left feet. He would have been more annoyed about that, but it was hard to be in a bad mood when the Quartermaster’s hair was in wild disarray and he was flushed pink from embarrassment. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was on the better side of a lazy afternoon shag.

“This is hopeless, isn’t it?” continued Q, pushing up his glasses. “I’ll just—thank you for your time, but I should really…”

He moved back and tried to extricate himself from Bond’s grip. Bond held on tight. The clock over Q’s shoulder read nine pm. They’d been at this for two hours—give or take—in Q’s garage-cum-lab, and though Q had so far displayed only marginal improvement as a dancer, they had been two of the better hours of Bond’s life. It was safe to say he wasn’t keen to wrap this up too quickly and face his empty flat, not with Q so deliciously dishevelled and unguarded. The man was, for once, exactly where Bond wanted him.

Besides, Bond never quit, not even when the mission seemed insurmountable. What sort of agent would he be, packing it in at the two-hour mark of teaching someone to dance?

“You’re not giving up that easily,” he said to Q as much as himself.

“Sometimes, it’s abundantly clear that some things are best left to the professionals.” Q winced at the state of Bond’s shoes. “If you take those in tomorrow, I’ll get them fixed up.”

“Forget about my shoes, Q.” Bond leaned in. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were afraid of me being better at something than you are.”

“Rubbish. You’re better than me at plenty of things.”

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Ah. Well. There’s the hand-to-hand combat for a start.”

“For a start.”

“And all the jumping out of helicopters and such.”

“Naturally.”

“And a one-hundred percent equipment loss rate. It’s really quite impressive. I don’t think I’ve managed to be so forgetful of thousands of pounds worth of belongings in my life.”

“I brought back that radio last week.”

Q gave him a look. This was more familiar footing. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t throw a party.”

“No, you might have to dance at a party.”

“Oh, for—”

Q tried to pull away again. Bond was quicker this time to pull him back in.

“What was it you said earlier? It was imperative you learn how to dance.”

“Did I say that? I might have been a bit hasty.”

“You told me,” said Bond, his voice low, “that this bloke you were going to your cousin’s wedding with, Billy or whoever—”

“Bailey.”

A stupid name, thought Bond, “—was a proper gentleman and an excellent dancer, and that he’d murder you or some such nonsense if he found out you couldn’t dance.”

“It’s been a rather stressful day, Bond. It’s possible I was slightly dramatic about the whole thing.”

“I should hope so. I wouldn’t want to accuse you of having terrible taste in men.”

“Oh!” Q straightened. He was, for the first time in this argument, feeling properly righteous. “Oh, that’s not a road you want to go down, Bond, if we’re talking about partners with murderous intent.”

“No,” conceded Bond. “Probably not.”

Mostly instinctively, though not without a plan, Bond began to sway slowly to the song coming from Q’s speakers. It was one of Bond’s favourites.

“I suppose they knew how to dance, though,” said Q, beginning to sway too. “Your partners.”

There was a funny expression on his face. A twitch of self-consciousness, perhaps. Bond got a quick look at it before Q cast his eyes downwards, once again, to their shoes. The quip Bond had lined up died on his tongue.

It was time, he knew, to exercise a bit of caution.

“Anyone can dance, Q. Given the right mood, the right music, the right partner.” Bond hummed. “A good glass of wine.”

“Or a martini.”

“Or a martini, yes. But there are things more exceptional than dancing.”

Q’s head snapped up. “I thought you said you liked it.”

“I do.” Bond’s hand travelled lower, over Q’s waist and down to his belt loops. “Don’t you?”

“I can’t—” Q seemed astonished to realise they were making a go of it, moving in time to the music. The footwork was minimal, but dancing—the best kind—was never about the bloody footwork. “Oh.”

“Anyone can dance,” said Bond again. “But not everyone’s you.” His thumb stroked the bony protrusion at Q’s hip. “Just make sure Bill—”

“Bailey,” breathed Q, though he no longer seemed affronted or, indeed, particularly concerned about the man.

“Make sure whoever you end up dancing with never forgets it.”

Bond turned them around, still swaying, while Q scrutinised him. The newly curious look in his eye was familiar. All of this was familiar, except in the ways it wasn’t, not quite. They were in Q’s lab rather than a chandelier-ed ballroom, for a start. They were both down to their rolled-up shirtsleeves, and their suits were crumpled after a long day of desk work. Bond was sober and unarmed. There were no martinis in sight. The lighting was, frankly, awful. But the mood was right, and the partner was definitely right, and—

Q cleared his throat. ”If I was to—”

“Christ, yes.”

And then Q was kissing him, and he was kissing back, grabbing fistfuls of those irresistible curls and tugging Q’s shirt out of his trousers to get at his soft, velvet-warm skin. Q kissed like a wild thing, and his hands were everywhere. The lab amplified every sound they made: the huffs of breath against each other, the rough pull of silk and cotton against a callus or two, the wet suck of Q’s mouth around Bond’s bottom lip. And incredibly, they were still dancing.

With his hands on either side of Q’s face, Bond brought Q to a slow stop. Around them, Nat King Cole crooned about fascination, and Bond thought, yes. Yes, quite.

#00q #00q fic #my fic #james bond

[yawnderu]

Hi, your posts always come up when I’m searching for fanfiction for this one specific character I like. When I’m browsing the search of this character, the majority of your work that pops up are the “darker” themed stories, and I’m not sure if that’s exclusively what you write or if that’s just what’s popping up, but I was hoping to ask you a question. It comes from a place of genuine curiosity, so I hope it doesn’t come across as rude, although it might, and that’s definitely not my intention. I’m genuinely curious as to why you write explicit sexual assault fanfiction? You tag your stories with “noncon,” referring to nonconsensual sex which is obviously rape. I’ve also seen stories tagged with “drugging” and I’m genuinely so confused about the psychology of “dark” writing. I’ve seen some people say it’s a coping mechanism so maybe that’s it? I’m 20 years old, but I cannot imagine being a 13 old girl (which tumblr is FULL of) and seeing stories which have the premises of “hot guy character” and “sex,” and it’s just literal rape or drugging or manipulation (or as you tag, “gaslighting”). I really don’t mean to be harsh, it’s just astounding how you feel comfortable writing that stuff, because it’s not like these “dark” topics are being condemned, it’s very clear that’s it written on the premise of being “forbiddingly sexy”. Because all of these posts are full of supportive comments, it’s so obvious that this normalizes sexual assault and why? All because the guy character doing it is “hot”? My opinion is that it’s so dangerous and I cannot imagine how I would have felt if I had seen these stories and the reactions to them when I was younger as a sexual assault victim myself. I’d really like to hear the perspective of an author of these type of works. This message does not come from a place of judgement.

Hi.

cw: talks of sexual assault, rape and violence.

As a CSA and SA victim, it's mainly used as a way to cope. It doesn't normalize sexual assault in the slightest, it's simply a kink many victims develop after being abused— everyone has their own ways to cope. NONE of my content including the fluff is ever written for minors, and it is not my responsibility if a minor reads it despite having a huge MDNI in my profile and actively encouraging any minors to get off of my blog.

I believe the time you spent writing something that very clearly comes from a place of judgement could have easily been spent googling your questions, but I'll gladly answer.

Sometimes people develop certain kinks out of fear and trauma— coming from someone living in a very small country where women get raped, kidnapped, and brutally murdered daily and spent years being a shut-in to avoid these things, it definitely comes from the factor of being able to have a controlled environment to write the things I'm scared of. I obviously don't want to be raped or be SAd again in real life, so this is all very clearly a fetish.

The reason why it's not written as condemned is because it's very obviously a kink? I'm not really sure what you expect when you see the warnings and continue reading. Since you mention the "gaslighting" thing I'm going to assume the character you're initially talking about is Simon Riley— and it would have taken you exactly 2 seconds to go to my profile and look at the masterlist with over 20 works to realize that's not all I write in the slightest— actually, I haven't put any of my works of the past 2 weeks in the masterlist because I've gotten lazy, so you'd only see 1 darkfic compared to everything else.

You mention multiple times how you'd feel if you saw my works as a child and that's the thing love, not a single one of my fanfics is ever meant for children or teenagers to read. These are grown men I'm writing about, I don't even want minors reading my fluffy things or even interacting with me at all— but if it helps, as a teenager I used to read works like these and it helped me process A LOT of my trauma later on in life lmfao.

I've been molested as early as I was 6 years old, and this went on most of my life growing up until I was in my late teens, so it's pretty fucking weird to say my fics normalize sexual assault because that's far from what it is, it's simply a FANTASY with FICTIONAL characters, none of it is real and I don't want it to be real, I don't want any of my readers to go through any of these things in real life, so I'm not really sure what the point of even accusing me of that was.

#stray answers

[prettygirlmjmjmj]

Hi! I'm Maggie, I just wanted to ask, do you have any tips for starting a coquette blog? I'm new to Tumblr and really want to start posting. Love you, have a nice day! 🩷

Hi Maggie! Thank you for asking me I would of course love to help. Having a Tumblr blog is such a fun way to share your interests with others and find people who feel/think the same way as you. Coquette blogs are some of my favourites so I hope you find these tips useful:

Starting a blog, tips

Try to have a direction you want your blog to head in. For example questions to ask yourself are, what kind of audience are you trying to reach? What are your main intentions for your blog? Do you want to have posts that have the same theme or ideas, or completely different posts? Once you figure out the direction, starting becomes so much easier!

Try to make your blog look visually appealing to you and your posts cohesive. Whenever I start decorating/customising a post, I always consider my overall theme (mainly pink, of course) and try to go from there. Add cute images and fonts that you love or emojis and symbols to help your blog stand out and make you happy when you look at it.

Browse the tags you plan on using under your posts for inspiration. I don't mean steal someone's ideas or posts, I mean look at what's popular under the tag or currently appealing to you and start planning your posts from there.

Think about your interests and likes. Making a post about something you actually find interesting always comes through to the people reading it. Instead of focusing on the number of people who interact with the post, try to make posts you genuinely love and would read. Growth doesn't happen overnight but by being genuine and yourself it'll be easier to find a community.

Try to mix up the kind of posts you make. While I love making lengthy posts they can be so incredibly time consuming, that sometimes I need a little break. Make shorter posts as well, even if it's just sharing a picture you loved or a recipe you tried, mixing up your posts will appeal to more groups of people and stop you from feeling drained by Tumblr and your blog.

Be consistent! Posting regularly (I aim for once to twice a week) and even continuing to check in with your followers and interactions on your posts helps you to be consistent and engaged with your blog.

Follow creators who's blogs you admire or posts you love. Seeing their posts on your homepage will motivate you for your own blog and help to give you ideas and inspiration where there might not be any.

Try to thoroughly research and understand your posts before you make them. Understanding something properly will help you to articulate fully and write everything you wanted to say in the post and mean that you feel confident talking about what you're posting.

Figure out what sets you apart from other blogs out there. Is it your creativity? Your knowledge of the topic? Your humour? Whatever it is find it and try to cultivate it, people love seeing blogs that stand out and are far more likely to interact with interesting posts and blogs.

Finally, look up online, in a book or anywhere else for post inspiration if you are struggling ideas-wise. Both have many brilliant resources, but I am especially partial to Pinterest because I normally see pretty images too. If you find inspiration use it or save it and start thinking about how you could fit the post to the theme of your blog.

Thank you! I hope this is super helpful and good luck. All my love, mj.

#glow up era #that girl #glow up #self care #self development #glow up journey #self love #it girl #girl blogger #girlblogging #that girl lifestyle #that girl energy #becoming that girl #that girl aesthetic #pink pilates princess #pink aesthetic

[maochira]

Hello! hope you are having a nice day! I love reading your writings. They really make me happy. So I have a request. Kunigami with a soccer player s/o who is much shorter than him (like 145 cm) and has a weak appearance (like they don't look like a sports person) But in field, they turn into a monster and beat everyone with their intelligence. This can be hcs of anything you want. Thank you!

Bro omg you literally just described my Blue Lock OC except that he's 160cm LMAO 😭

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!short!reader, this is before Blue Lock, fluff

You just recently moved to another town and switched to a new school and immediately signed up for the soccer team when you found out there is one. You were one of the best players in your last school's team, so you obviously want to continue playing soccer.

When you walk into the locker room for your first practice with your new team, you can hear the others whispering and wondering why you're there. You hear things like "They look so weak, probably can't kick the ball properly" and "Their legs are too short to run quickly."

You've heard things like this often enough in the past, so you decide to just ignore them. Although you are a bit uncomfortable because none of your new teammates actually talks to you - they only talk about you.

In the meantime, Kunigami is looking at you every so often, wondering if someone your height could really keep up with the team. When he sees you on the field for the first time, he's completely fascinated by your skill and the way you move. Even though the team is in the middle of a practice match, Kunigami can't help but stop running so he can observe you better.

After practice when most of your teammates have already walked off to the locker room, Kunigami ran up to you with the intention to have a little conversation. But you made his heart beat so fast, he ends up asking you out on a date because the adrenaline rush is making him feel super confident.

You're hesitant at first, but end up agreeing because he seems very nice. And obviously, that one date doesn't end up being the only one! You and Kunigami go on many before you finally end up asking him to be your boyfriend. Coincidentally, Kunigami planned to ask you to be his significant other on the same day just a bit later, but you ended up being a bit quicker with that.

And now, your boyfriend loves to proudly show you off to everyone. Not only to his teammates, but also to everyone else he gets the chance to. Sometimes he gets upset at how much you get underestimated simply for being short, so he makes sure everyone knows how skilled you are at soccer!

Kunigami loves seeing how the opposing teams mock your height only to end up realizing you're one of the best players on your team when you end up stealing the ball over and over, helping your team to win almost every match.

Also, he thinks you're very cute and he gets to carry you around a lot. If he ever teases you about your height, it's only to point out how much he adores you. But at the same time, he very much admires you for your strength and skill and how you never let anyone put you down!

Taglist (sign-up link): @astruosie @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu, @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @remy-roll @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @depressed-bitchy-demon @userwithlotsoftime @yellowelectroslime @chaosinanutshell

#💟 maochira writes #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #rensuke kunigami #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #kunigami x you #rensuke kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x you

[5ummit]

In Defense of Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

What's the point of a tag that tells you to read the tags? Isn't that redundant? Actually, no! "Dead dove: do not eat" does serve an important purpose because it's NOT just a generic "mind the tags" statement, there's more to it than that.

Because of all the misinformation surrounding DD:DNE and how muddied the waters have become with some people trying to claim that it's equivalent to "what it says on the tin" (or the like), there seems to be some confusion about its purpose. I recently explained the origins of DD:DNE and its inherent dark connotations, but I just encountered another misleading dead dove post and I want to provide more clarity on how it's supposed to be used and why it's genuinely helpful.

Many writers these days tend to be overly cautious and tag every little thing, particularly when it comes to potentially triggering or problematic content, regardless of how much or little that content is featured in the fic. While thorough tagging is greatly beneficial on the whole, it can sometimes be hard to tell the tone or intent of a fic and how much weight you should put on those warnings from just looking at a list of tags.

"Dead dove: do not eat" is a flashing warning sign that, not only will potentially triggering or problematic content feature heavily, it will also be presented and framed with little to no authorial commentary or judgment. It's saying: "I hope you're prepared to read something fucked up because that's what you'll find here and I'm not justifying, moralizing, or apologizing for it. You have been warned." This should be used in conjunction with specific content warnings to indicate the exact flavor of fucked up you're going to encounter, but even if someone chooses not to clarify in the tags for some reason (a controversial choice, to be sure), it's still a warning in and of itself. DD:DNE is not entirely meaningless without other tags, it's just more thorough and informative with them.

Consider two fics tagged with rape/noncon, one with the DD:DNE tag and one without.

The fic without the dead dove label may just include discussion of noncon that happened to a character in the past, the noncon may occur in the fic but be glossed over and not described in detail, or the noncon may be dubcon at worst. Everyone has different thresholds for certain types of content, so some people may still choose to warn for it in these cases. I'm not attempting to pass judgement on whether or not the noncon warning should be used in that way, but it happens regularly and it can make sorting through tags to find what you're looking for complicated.

The fic with the DD:DNE tag? That's a Rape Fic. You can pretty safely assume the noncon is going to be a major component of the fic, it will likely be explicit, you won't be spoon-fed any morals about it, and it probably won't have a conventionally happy ending.

Not having the DD:DNE tag obviously doesn't mean that a fic does NOT contain dark or problematic content, as not everyone chooses to use it, but including it essentially guarantees it (at least when used correctly). This can be very helpful for anyone specifically looking for something angsty and awful to wallow in, while allowing others who aren't interested in that to safely avoid it.

Because of its inherent connotations, "dead dove: do not eat" should NEVER be used as a generic call to "mind the tags." If you add it to your non-problematic, 100% consensual fic because you happen to include an unusual kink or whatever, you WILL scare away readers because they WILL assume you have a dark untagged twist in there somewhere.

DD:DNE is a convenient fandom-agnostic modifier that conveys to readers they are about to encounter something unapologetically fucked up and to make sure they're in the right headspace for it. Do not open the bag labeled "dead dove" if you are not prepared to see a dead dove.

#I'm sorry to keep making posts about this #but people keep being wrong on the internet #and I guess I'm in a feisty mood #fandom #psa #my words #wendy's help desk

[ezra-but-hornier]

Is it okay for someone that was amab to want to identify as butch? I’ve never discussed these feelings with anyone before, so I apologize if this sounds confusing and for any inelegance in my wording.

I’m trans and I identify very broadly as gender nonconforming, but for all intents and purposes I live my life as a man. The only person I’ve ever discussed my transness with is my partner and even then it’s only been very briefly. It’s not easy for me to talk about. People will look at me and intuitively know that I’m a man, even if what’s going inside of me is so much more complicated than that. I can’t blame them though. I haven’t done voice training, I’m not on any hormones, and my daily gender performance is unmistakably masculine; that being my physical appearance as well as the clothes I wear.

I was never particularly drawn to dressing or presenting myself this way, it’s just the only option I’ve ever been given. There was a time when I felt like it would drive me mad. That living my entire life being perceived by others solely as a man rather than something altogether so much more would ruin me.

Then I learned what butches are. I hate to generalize, but seeing people take the things that I disliked so strongly about myself and turn into symbols for their own liberation and personal empowerment just…made something change inside of me. I stopped thinking of blue jeans, and boots, and belts, and button-ups, and hair on my arms and face as things that made me a ‘man’ but instead as things that made me masculine. And somehow that was better, that I could deal with, and maybe I could even love to perform.

I’m sorry, I know this is likely very heavy to read and that it’s also quite long. I don’t even know if butch would be the most apt term to describe what I am or what I feel. I just know that it’s been butches that I’ve admired and feel like I owe some kind of debt to for learning how to become more comfortable in my skin from observing their practice. I only hope none of this comes across as offensive or something awful like that. I just find myself feeling guilty sometimes, scrolling through butch related tags or going through blogs run by butches/femmes. I feel like I don’t belong, but I’ve honestly never felt anywhere where I really belong. I’m made up of too many different parts, none of which seem to go together as they should.

Stopping myself here. I like your blog, and thank you for listening. I understand if this is an ask you’d rather just delete. Thank you again.

I'm gonna be so real with you my dude- I dont know. Some people only use butch when referring to people who are afab. Some people use it more broadly. I think the only person who knows what's going on inside you is you. There is very little permanence in life. If you find something that inspires you then use that inspiration to be the truest version of yourself.

#ask the femme

[bengiyo]

Moonlight Chicken Ep 6 Stray Thoughts

Yesterday we focused on broken love from one person changing and the other staying the same. Wen and Alan built a romance out of college that Wen eventually grew beyond. Heart lost his hearing and learned a new way to speak, but his parents didn't go through the difficulty of learning to speak. As a result, everyone suffered, but the performances were spectacular.

Jim and Wen are going to make me revive the #they are literally always flirting tag. Still, I'm glad Wen clarified again that Jim didn't cause him to fall out of love with Alan.

Chapter 6: The Walk to Forget and Forgive

I had hoped that Wen's presence would enable Jim and Li Ming to speak to each other properly, but it's going to take time.

Sui Pornnapa is a good actress, y'all. Don't get too caught up in looking for villains to miss a good performance. The way she carries her unease about Li Ming before sitting down with him to realize that he really cares about her son. Because Fourth has such a joyous face, you can't help but feel her own pain and embarrassment that this boy knows things about her son she's never realized.

Okay, the note under the door was cute. You knew Heart was going to recognize the handwriting even if he didn't catch the tone of the message. Gemini, y'all. He's got great instincts about physically embodying his characters.

Saleng seems like he's on the side of whoever melts the ice prison Jim has locked himself within.

Earth and Mix have phenomenal chemistry. You can feel the easy desire between them, and the restraint never feels like internalized homophobia. Instead, it always feels exactly like an age gap tinged with a sense of responsibility.

You know, I had a feeling Beam had died. Something about the way Jim's grief felt like it was in stasis said that Beam died before they could reconcile or get closure.

In my feelings about older queers. We don't deal with this in BL often, but if you have older queer friends you'll be able to ask them about what it's like when one of us dies. Sometimes you have to rush to the apartment and remove all the gay content so their families don't know. Sometimes the families will refuse to tell us anything. It's a special kind of loneliness to not be able to mourn with people because they refuse to love everything about someone you care about and shun you.

Curious why Jim is determined to get the loan from this bank.

Holy shit, Khaotung. I have replayed his facial expressions as Jim finally crushes his hopes five times. You can see his wide eyed hope as he musters all of his bravery to ask directly, and then has to suppress his deep disappointment even as he can't withhold the tears. He even has to try to set his own feelings aside over the title deed.

I like cutting immediately to Saleng. I'm glad Gaipa still has that connection.

Love that Wen is determined to put a door in Jim's wall.

In my feelongs about how our Facebook pages become memorials.

This entire scene with Beam's girlfriend was so captivating. This is the kind of mess I expected from Aof. Two people loved a man and it made them both feel lesser. Then he died suddenly. No one can ever get closure with him, and instead must choose to live. I like seeing people near 40, because they have had time and realize the other isn't an enemy.

"People only go to the beach to get hot or get healed." I see you, Aof.

Oh, I think Heart is the first person to call Li Ming smart in this show.

Heart and Li Ming really are just so adorable.

I think I will accept the camera angle for their kiss because it's their first, and much of their dynamic feels private. Also, not sure I like Jim's dismay at witnessing it.

Alan wearing both of their rings as he goes on a bender says a lot about what his intentions were.

Lookwa gets to play Fourth's mom twice! Also wtf, Jim. I'm choosing not to read too much into a GMMTV preview.

#midnight series: moonlight chicken #Moonlight Chicken #moonlight chicken meta #thai bl #bl series #thai drama #Ben watches

[meadowlarkx]

People you'd like to know better!

Tagged by @sallysavestheday ! Thank you so much for thinking of me 💐

1. Three ships: Maedhros/Maglor... I'm in the vortex and have no intention of leaving even if I could. Um, also, I'm a big fan of Maglor/Thranduil and Finrod/Sauron. I know we're reaching beyond three but Finrod/Andreth is also special to me and on the mind since reading Athrabeth. It's hard to stop listing them!

2. First ship: Of my LOTR era as a wee lass: Éomer/Lothíriel. Of my new Silm hot girl era: Russingon, actually! I'm still invested in it, even if I don't spend as much time thinking about it.

3. Last song: Miley Cyrus - Wildcard, which got stuck in my head... I'm gonna take this opportunity to again put forth to the esteemed colleagues that this is a, nay the, Míriel song. These tag memes reveal how the same 5 thoughts bounce around in my brain for a week entire.

4. Last movie: Crimson Peak with friend @jouissants! Reader, you can imagine my feelings

5. Currently reading: I am between books somewhat, slowly reading Lays of Beleriand. I forgot to mention it on another post, but I'm also listening to Two Towers as an audiobook--part of rereading LotR for the first time since I was a kid, which has been both moving and interesting. I have a TBR that just keeps getting longer, including The Goblin Emperor, the play Salomé, and a bunch of fanfic and nonfiction!

6. Currently watching: gradually rewatching Nirvana in Fire (🥰), hoping to someday get to the new Good Omens and Only Murders in the Building seasons, if time and inclination allows. I'm not that good at shows if it's not a Plan with someone and I'm in no rush, but I'd like to see them sometime.

7. Last thing I wrote: Some more notes on a fem!Maglor/fem!Thranduil WIP I'd like to finish in time for Silm Smut Week.

Keeping to Silm, tagging @welcomingdisaster @mirillel @maironsbigboobs @decorativestatuary if you'd like to do this! 💕

#people you'd like to know better meme #tag meme #my posts