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am-i-the-asshole-official · 25 days

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Tagging @aitathrowaway1234 to know when it gets posted

AITA for trying to set a friend up with her crush (and having it backfire horrendously)?

I (F28) am married with my wonderful husband Lucas (M31) for eight years now and I'm convinced he is my soulmate. I am as in love with him as I was all those years ago and I'm convinced I'm the luckiest woman on Earth for having him in my life. Yes, I'm cheesy like that.

Thing is, because I'm so happy with Lucas, I want to see all of my friends equally happy and in love, so I have a tendency to play matchmaker sometimes (only with their permission, of course). A lot of these friends are in happy relationships with the people I set them up to, so I can say confidently I'm good at matchmaking.

Recently my friend Darcy (F32) commented on how she had this huge crush in one of my husband's friends, Peter (M30). I got super excited because Darcy went through a bad divorce around 5 years ago and she haven't expressed an interest in anyone since then. Since Peter always seemed to be a cool guy, I asked her if she wanted my help to get closer to him. She said yes.

For context, Lucas was never a fan of me playing matchmaking for people, mostly because he thought I could get in trouble for it. He knows it's something I like to do, though, so he never tried to make me stop it, he just always made it clear he wants no involvement in this. Since I knew I would have no help from him, I started to invite Peter myself to hangouts with me, Lucas and Darcy, and I would go out of my way to talk to him and compliment Darcy in our conversations, saying how amazing she was and listing her qualities etc. In our hangouts, Darcy and Peter would talk nonstop and, in my head, my little matchmaking plan was going smoothly.

Until this one night last week when we went out for a bar. Lucas had a long day at work and was feeling really sore (he has a bunch of disabilities that make him stay most of his time on a wheelchair and also make him feel a lot of pain), so he decided to stay at home, but encouraged me to go out with Darcy and Peter as planned. I didn't want to leave him alone, so it was then that I had an idea: I would go out with them, stay half an hour and leave, saying Lucas wasn't feeling great and I didn't want to leave him alone, which wasn't even an excuse. So I could go home and cuddle with my husband on the couch watching some Netflix while Darcy and Peter would be out just the two of them for the first time. Perfect plan, right?

So I went out with them and, around ten minutes after we arrived at the bar, Darcy went to the bathroom and that's when things started to get weird.

Peter was very straightfoward; he said he knew what I was doing and that I was very smart to keep inviting Darcy to have an excuse to be around him, and now that Lucas finally wasn't with us we could "get rid" of Darcy somehow and go somewhere more private. I was so shocked that I started to laugh and I think he saw this as an encouragement, because suddenly his hand was on my thigh and he was way into my personal space. I pushed him off, kind of screamed "What the fuck?!", got up and left. I was in my car on the way home when I remembered of Darcy. I don't know why she left my mind like that, I guess I was too shocked to think of anything else at the moment, but when I parked at home my phone was full of texts from her, asking what was going on and why everyone had left. I just texted her an apology and promised I would explain everything to her on the following day, because I wasn't in the right headspace at the moment.

When I went home Lucas asked me what was wrong and that was enough for me to start to cry. I told him everything and he just held me and comforted me, he didn't really say anything because he knew I just needed him to be there for me at that moment, I guess. On the following day, thought, we talked a lot about what happened and I could see he was really upset about Peter. He reassured me I didn't do anything wrong, though, but he confessed he didn't like my matchmaking habits because he knew this could happen and he didn't want to see me hurt like this.

After that, I texted both Peter and Darcy. To Peter I simply said I never had any kind of interest in him, that I was simply trying to help a friend out because I thought he was a good person but that was clearly not the case. I also told him to stay away from me and my husband and blocked him. To Darcy, I just told her what happened and apologized. She never answered me, so I guess she blames me.

Lucas keeps insisting this wasn't my fault, but I can't help but think that, if I didn't got involved, this would never have happened, and maybe I should stop meddling in other people's love lives, even if they want me to do it.

So, AITA for trying to help a friend out?

#aita #am i the asshole

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grizzlybeartist · 10 months

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New Sensations - Ken x Reader (NSFT)

Word Count: 2069 TWs: ask to tag

Ken wasn't just a random doll, he was your doll. And he needs your help in navigating his newfound humanity.

You were one of few employees at Mattel that learned of the little “disaster” without getting directly involved. Ken and Barbie, the Ken and Barbie, escaped into the real world for a time, and the higher ups had made quite a fuss about it. Ken had eventually returned to Barbieland, while Barbie chose to become human, living in the real world permanently. For a time, it seemed everything was back to normal, with Mattel quickly covering up the whole thing and making it very clear that discussion of it was forbidden. You were more than happy to follow that rule, but you feared recent events would make it difficult.

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, as to whose Ken it was that had escaped. You hadn’t thought that he was a specific person’s Ken to begin with. But, when a blond man going by that very name rushed up to you with an excited demeanour and immediately engaged you in what turned out to be a very long conversation, it became very clear that he wasn’t just a random doll. He was your doll. The vintage Ken you’d kept in-box on a shelf in your bedroom, that you had taken up the somewhat embarrassing habit of talking to, telling him about your day each night before bed. Apparently, that had been enough, and your humanity was bleeding through to him, making him think and feel in ways foreign to him.

It didn’t take long to decide to invite Ken to your home, wanting to discuss the matter somewhere where people wouldn’t overhear the loud blond and think you two were crazy. He’d followed you quite eagerly, trying to get into the driver’s seat of the car, before seeing the complicated controls and getting right back out. You suppressed the urge to laugh, settling into the driver’s side and waiting for him to hop in the passenger seat. The trip was short, and felt even shorter with the blond chatting the whole way, ecstatic to have found “his” human, to have found someone who understood the changes he was going through and who could help him.

It was a tedious process, teaching him about social cues and etiquette in the real world, teaching him about his new emotions and how to regulate them. New might not be exactly the right word. He was decently familiar with anger, fear, and sadness, but he had no idea how to cope with them until you taught him. The little problem he was presenting you with now, however, was entirely foreign to him, and you had no idea how to even start. Well, little might not be exactly the right word.

“So, do- do you know what it is?” Ken’s voice, uncharacteristically fragile, broke through your stunned silence. You’d entered your home to find him with a blanket bunched up over his lap, despite the warmth of the room. When you’d sat down next to him and asked him about it, he was unusually reserved, seeming almost nervous as he explained that he’d developed another new human trait. On your insistence, he’d pulled the blanket away, and his meaning became obvious. There was a prominent bulge in the tight denim of his jeans, one that twitched slightly as you approached.

“It’s, um. It’s a dick.” Your words were blunt, but you genuinely didn’t know how to be subtler in this situation. He gave you a confused look and opened his mouth, and before he could say anything, you clarified, “It’s a penis, Ken. I mean, you’re only becoming more human the longer you spend in the real world. This must be part of it.”

“Oh. But why is it… I mean, it feels kind of…” Ken trailed off, as if unable to find the exact words to describe what was happening to him. You took a deep breath to gather yourself. Giving the talk to a grown man who used to be a doll was not on your to-do list today. Maybe it would have been in your horoscope, who knows.

“Well, humans experience both a physical and emotional feeling called arousal. Arousal can happen randomly, or in response to something like touch or attraction. Because you’re aroused, it’s gotten hard, your body is preparing itself for sex. Do you… know what sex is?” Your explanation felt a little clinical, but you worried more casual terms might fly over his head.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I definitely know what sex is.” He has no idea what sex is. You sighed, trying and failing to keep your eyes off of his erection, how large he seemed to be, how it strained against the denim it was confined in. His face was flushed at how close you were, and he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat every few seconds. You couldn’t leave him like this.

“Okay, do you know what masturbation is?” His eyes darted off to the side, and you knew he was about to lie again for the sake of seeming informed. Before he could, you continued, “It’s when you touch yourself, as opposed to sex, where you’re touching another consenting adult. It will make the arousal go away, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

Ken’s teeth worried at his lower lip, and he looked down at his lap. He knew that sex was intimate, he knew the weight of what he was about to ask, but you were the only person he trusted, and he didn’t want to fumble through trying to figure it out himself and end up doing something wrong.

“Could you, um, show me? I don’t know how to…” His words died in his throat as your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. His face burned, embarrassment wasn’t something he had felt often, but he was certainly feeling it now. “You don’t have to, I could always just go on internet and—”

“I’ll teach you.” Now it was Ken’s turn to be surprised. The two of you took a few minutes and discussed it in more detail. You wanted to make sure he actually understood the implications of what he was asking, that he really did consent to this, and he very much did. You took the initiative, taking his hand and pulling him up from the couch, leading him to your bedroom. Your small pull out sofa had essentially been his bed for the couple weeks he had been staying with you, and this was the first time he was actually seeing inside your room. He locked eyes with the doll on your shelf, realising that that was him, and felt a little unsettled for a moment, before quickly brushing it off as you pulled him towards your bed.

“It’ll be more comfortable if you’re laying down, like this.” Your hands were gentle and warm as you guided him to lay in your bed, hovering over him with your fingertips tracing the line of buttons down the centre of his shirt. You hesitate for only a moment, before leaning in to place a kiss against his jaw, relishing in the little gasp he lets out in response. “Can I take this off of you, sweetheart?” When he nods, you take the opportunity to tease him a bit. “Use your words, Ken. You’re gonna have to talk me through this, help me figure out what feels best for you, okay?

“Okay,” he breathes, feeling a bit flustered at your close proximity. “You can do whatever you want to me, baby.” He tried to sound confident, tried to sound like he wasn’t feeling lightheaded, but the slight waver in his tone gave him away. You chuckled, leaning in to plant a quick kiss to his neck, before getting to work unbuttoning his shirt. He cooperated as you pulled it off of him, leaning up so you could fully remove it, tossing it aside. He surprised you by gently tugging at your shirt as well, and you humoured him, allowing him to take it off. The expression on his face was almost reverent, his eyes roaming your skin hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Fingers tugging at the waistband of his jeans snapped him back to reality, and before you could even ask he was nodding, reaching down to unbutton and unzip them. He lifted his hips, the denim sliding down just far enough for his erection to spring free. You laid next to him, your chest pressed to his side and one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other reaching down to take hold of his own hand.

“It’s easy enough, you just wrap your palm and fingers around it, like this…” Your hand laid overtop his, guiding his movements, but he ached to feel your touch against him directly. “Then you stroke it, up and down, like this.” The friction was electric, pleasure buzzing across his skin and pulling a moan from his throat. All of his muscles tensed, and he paused after that first motion, allowing the sensation to settle, his eyes shut like he was savouring it. He stroked it again, squirming under his own touch. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This repeated a number of times, soft needy noises escaping him each time. Heat was swirling low in your core as you watched him, murmuring little words of encouragement and praise as he blushed. Soon enough, he let out a little whine of frustration.

“I, I can’t… It’s too sensitive, I don’t think I can…” You quieted his concerns with a soft kiss, directly to his lips this time. You reached over to the nightstand, retrieving a bottle of lube and putting a few drops into your palm, letting it warm against your skin.

“That’s okay, darling. Let me.” At your words, his hand left his aching cock, coming up to hold your elbow as your palm wrapped around him instead. The noise that left him was heavenly, and he only became more vocal as you started properly stroking him, your pace slow and steady. He found himself nearly writhing, occasionally bucking up into your grasp as ecstasy burned through every inch of his body.

“Ah, that’s! Oh god, just like that, please—” He cut himself off with an even louder moan as you picked up the pace. For any other man it still would have been far too slow, but for him it was almost overstimulating. Every touch gradually nudged him closer and closer to the edge, though he had no idea how to communicate that feeling, not even certain of what it was. Waves of pleasant tingling ran down through his legs and up into his stomach, all stemming from the central point of your hand on his cock. He was teetering on the edge of a climax, the first one he’ll have ever had.

“I… I think something’s going to…” Ken moaned, and you leaned in closer, claiming his lips in a heated kiss. That was what did it, his eyes rolling back, his back arching, his hand clawing at the sheets as he came. You broke the kiss to let him breathe, and he nearly sobbed as his first ever orgasm wracked his frame, cum spraying from his tip and making a mess of his stomach and chest. It was so intense it nearly hurt, rolling over him in powerful waves that were slow to fade. Gasps and pants heaved his chest as he slowly came down from his high, still shuddering against you as you peppered kisses over his face, neck, shoulder, any bit of him you could reach.

When he finally came back to his senses, he grinned, his eyes bleary as they met yours. He made some attempt at language, but his tongue felt thick, and it didn’t come out right. You giggled in response, grabbing some tissues from the nightstand and cleaning him up. You helped him to undress fully, and Ken wasted no time in curling up comfortably on the mattress, pulling you down and holding you like a teddy bear. You whispered praises to him as he slowly caught his breath, your fingers running through his hair as his head rested against your chest. It took only a few minutes for him to slip into a calm, blissful sleep, exhausted by all of the new emotions and sensations he’d experienced over the last few hours. Maybe when he woke up you’d give him another lesson.

#written #nsft #ken #barbie 2023 #ken barbie #I couldn't get this concept out of my head so I had to write it #enjoy my fellow ken fuckers #ken x reader #barbie movie

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all-the-things-2020 · 6 months

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Summary: When you land on a backwater planet for a routine job, your feelings for your bounty hunter boss are revealed, thanks to a local holiday tradition.

Rating: PG-13 (implied sexual activity but everything happens off screen)

Notes: This was written in 2020, before we knew Grogu’s name. I wrote it for the Pedros12DaysofChristmas gift exchange on tumblr as a gift for @djarinslover.

Word count: 3600+

Tags: @morallyinept Jett, please add to your Festive Fic Rec List 🎄❄️🎁

The wind whipped across the plain that lay outside the little town. You huddled into your coat, which was not thick enough for this weather. Din’s cape plastered itself to his back and the Child he carried whined at the cold. “It’s not far,” Din said. “I’ll keep you warm, kid.” The green child snuggled closer and made an inquiring noise. “And we’ll get something to eat. I promise.” The Child cooed and snuggled closer, his tiny clawed hand clutching at the smooth beskar of Din’s breastplate. You marveled at how well the two communicated, considering the Child couldn’t talk yet. Of course, you and Din were often able to communicate without words, even though his face was always hidden by his helmet.

The ramp rumbled closed behind you as the three of you made your way to the gate of the town. It was another nondescript settlement on a nondescript planet; somewhere that should have been a safe hiding place for a being on the run, but Din was a relentless hunter and very rarely failed to find his quarry. You were surprised that he hadn’t simply left you and the Child on board while he checked out this new lead, but you had learned not to question him when it came to bounty hunting. That was his area of expertise, not yours.

There was a gateway of sorts over the road into town, and it was bedecked with boughs of some evergreen plant that smelled spicy and stringent. Bunches of red and white berries were tied here and there with bright yellow ribbons.

You stepped a bit closer to Din as you entered the town. The houses looked empty, although some had colorful lights hanging in the windows, and most of them had boughs hanging over the door frame. “Where is everyone?” you asked, disconcerted by the lack of people and the empty echoes of your feet against the walls.

Din shifted the Child in his arms and grunted. “Must be in the center of town for the festival,” he said briefly.

“Festival?”

He nodded, but kept walking. “It’s the Midyear Festival. Winter solstice or something like that. I thought the kid might enjoy seeing it.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small pouch of credits, which he handed to you. “There’s sure to be some food for sale. Maybe you can find him a toy or something, keep him from stealing the knob off my gearshift all the time.”

You hid your smile, knowing that Din would just get brusque and dismissive if he saw it. You took the pouch and slipped it into the inside pocket of your coat. “And it gives you a good excuse to be here, too,” you said. “Bringing the kid to see the festival. Who’d be suspicious of that?”

Din turned his helmeted head slightly and you just knew he was rolling his eyes at you; the man could convey a full range of emotions with just a tilt of the head or shift in body weight. You’d learned to read him well during your time aboard the Razor Crest. You just wondered what it would take to get him to express the emotions you were almost certain were lurking just underneath the surface of what he’d allow himself to feel.

The town square was packed with beings of all kinds, eating and drinking and shopping at the booths that had sprung up around the perimeter. They were all decked out with the same evergreen boughs and berries. Din handed the Child to you. “Here, find him something to eat and look around at the wares,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. It shouldn’t take me long to get the information I need and then we can move on.”

You held the Child close as the two of you watched Din walk away, his cape swaying behind him as he strode across the square. He didn’t have to weave his way through the crowd; they parted in front of him. You felt a swell of … not exactly pride, since it was mixed with a healthy dose of lust ...Din looked good as always, and you had to remind yourself that so far he’d treated you as no more than a crewmate.

“Come on, kiddo,” you said once Din had been swallowed up by the crowd. “Let’s get you something yummy to eat.”

The Child made it clear that he wanted one of the large, sugar dusted cookies that several children were carrying around, and you quickly found the booth that was selling them. You purchased two and found a place to sit down. You and the Child nibbled at your treats, watching everyone in their festival finery. “They sure are dressed up, aren’t they?” you said. The Child continued to munch on his cookie, but he pricked his ears up, so you knew he was listening. “Think we’ll ever have money to waste on fancy clothes like that? Yeah, probably not. Your dad’s pretty tight with the purse strings. And fuel and ship repairs are expensive.” You sighed. Life was better now that you were traveling with the Mandalorian and his strange little foundling, but it was never easy in this part of the galaxy.

Once the cookies were gone (and part of yours might have mysteriously found its way into the kid’s hands), you picked the Child up and wandered around the square, looking at the sights. At one booth, you found an assortment of wooden toys which you found charming but which barely got a glance from the Child. What he did like were the shiny ornaments that hung from a large bough in the next booth over.

“Those look awfully fragile, kiddo,” you said doubtfully.

“But you would be wrong,” said the young woman behind the counter at the booth. “They are made of durasteel, hand painted and beautiful, but guaranteed to withstand the wildest gaggle of children and/or beasts.” She took down the one that had caught the Child’s eye, a silvery globe just big enough for both of his little hands to grasp, painted all over with geometric shapes in a brilliant azure blue. As the Child reached desperately for it, you knew you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t get it for him.

“How much?” you asked, sure it was going to be outrageously priced and Din would be mad at you for spending so much on a useless bauble.

“Five credits,” the woman said. She tilted her head, taking in your patched trousers and the raggedy hem on the Child’s robe. “Let’s say four. Can’t let a kid go without a Midyear present, can we?”

You would have gladly paid five, but bit your tongue. A credit saved was a credit earned, after all. You handed over the money and the Child cooed as he examined the beautiful ball in his hands.

“And what about for you?” the young woman asked. “Do you have your sprig of laramin yet?”

“My sprig of what?” you asked.

She nodded. “Figured you for an offworlder,” she said, reaching up to pull a bundle of blue and white leaves down from a rack at the back of the stall. “Laramin,” she said, holding it out to you. “Almost sold out, so you’re just in time.” She held it up above her head. “It’s a tradition. At midnight on Midyear Day, you try to get your sweetheart under the laramin. Legend has it, if you kiss them under the laramin leaves at midnight, they’ll love you forever.” She gave you an appraising look. “I saw you come into the square with that tall fellow in the shiny armor. I’ll bet you’d like to get him under the laramin.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but still asked the price of the bundle of leaves. One credit, and she threw in some silver ribbon to hang it from. “Little guy might want to play with it, after. Since it matches his ornament and all,” she said. You thanked her and tucked the sprig of laramin in your pocket next to the credit pouch.

You took another turn around the square, but the Child only had eyes for his ball, and soon you settled back down on a bench to wait for Din. You’d bought a couple more of those cookies, but hidden them away from the Child. You wanted to save at least one for Din, although who knew when he’d have a chance to eat it. He always snatched a bite here or there when you and the kid were asleep or busy.

Finally, you saw his shiny helmet weaving its way through the crowd, swiveling back and forth as he scanned the crowd for you. You suppressed the urge to stand up and wave; Din was a skilled hunter and he’d find you and the Child easily enough. Besides, you didn’t want to seem desperate or anything. You thought guiltily of the sprig of leaves in your pocket and your face got hot. It was ridiculous and a waste of money, but at least you’d saved the credit you spent on it when the vendor cut the price on the Child’s bauble.

Din reached you. “Come on,” he said, motioning for you to stand. He picked up the Child, who held out his new treasure for inspection. “Hmm … very nice, buddy. You do like shiny things, don’t you?” The Child chirped his agreement and returned to admiring the blue and silver ornament. Din turned to you. “Did you get yourself anything?”

You were flustered. “Um, I bought the kid and me each a cookie earlier, and I got a few more to take with us. So you can have one later. They’re pretty good.” You were rambling, but you didn’t want to admit you’d bought the laramin sprig. You’d toss it in the trash compactor when you got back to the ship.

Din simply nodded and began to walk. “We can stay overnight and head after the quarry in the morning,” he said as you followed him through the crowd. “I don’t think he’ll be on the move for a while, according to the intel I got.”

The ship was quiet and cold when you arrived, but that was normal. It just seemed darker than usual because you’d come from the brightly lit festival. Din closed up the ramp and busied himself with a check of his arsenal. “Keep an eye on the kid,” he said. “He’ll probably be busy with his new toy, but still, I don’t want him getting near the weapons.”

You nodded and took the Child into the tiny bunk where he and Din slept. The Child had a hammock strung from the ceiling; the sleeping area took up the entire bottom of the bunk, which you secretly thought looked more like a storage closet than a bedroom, but it wasn’t your ship. Your own sleeping area was a pile of blankets on top of a foam pad tucked behind some crates between the main hold and the carbonite freezer. It wasn’t fancy, but at least you had more room than Din and the kid had.

You sat with your back to the bunk entrance, with the Child in front of you, so he was blocked from getting out. The little womp rat was stealthy and you’d learned that unless you could see him at all times, he was capable of slipping past you and getting into trouble. Right now, though, he was enthralled with his new shiny toy and happy to sit and burble at it. You slid the packet of cookies out of your pocket, worried they would get crushed. The Child perked up at the sight of them, but you said, “Not right now. Wait until your dad’s done, then we’ll all have one, okay?” His ears drooped a bit, but he returned to the toy with only a tiny sigh.

You also pulled out the credit pouch. You would return it to Din when you gave him his cookie. The sprig of laramin came with it, the silver ribbon tangled around the pouch.

“What’s that?”

Din was almost as sneaky as his little green kid. “Oh, just a decoration,” you said, hiding your face by looking down at the Child. “The girl who sold us the ornament insisted I take one. No charge.” You dropped the laramin on the bed and held out the pouch. “Here’s what’s left of your credits.”

Din held out his gloved hand and took the pouch gently. He didn’t open it, or even test its weight, even though you knew he was always careful with his money. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly.

“What?”

“I told you when you came aboard, I don’t tolerate lying,” he said, tucking the credit pouch back into a pocket. “I know what that is.” He pointed at the bedraggled bunch of laramin leaves. “It’s some sort of love charm or something, isn’t it?”

You took a deep breath before you spoke. “It’s a decoration,” you repeated. “You hang it up and if you can kiss your sweetheart under it at midnight on Midyear Day, then the legend says they’ll love you forever. It’s silly. I just took it because the girl insisted. We can throw it away.”

You reached for the leaves, ready to crumble them into a wad, but Din was faster. He picked up the bundle and dangled it over your head by the silver ribbon. “No, let’s hang it up,” he said. “We could use some decoration in this old bucket.” You turned around in the bunk, wondering what he was going to do.

He reached up and tied the ribbon over an exposed girder. “There,” he said. “Festive, don’t you think?” Then he turned abruptly and headed up the ladder to the cockpit.

“What was that all about?” you asked the Child, who had crept up beside you. He stared at you for a moment, then shrugged and went back to admiring his ball.

You could hear Din moving around up in the cockpit but he wasn’t planning to move the ship until morning. Had he gotten embarrassed by the laramin? Was he trying to pretend nothing had happened to spare your feelings? You’d tried your best to hide your attraction to him, but the man was a hunter; he noticed details. He was probably well aware of the way you watched him, the way your eyes lingered over certain parts of his anatomy as he moved. And you were sure he knew how you tensed up when he moved close to you, how hard you resisted leaning into his touch when he laid a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at the wilted sprig of laramin, just hanging there mocking you.

It was getting late, so you arranged your bed, which usually got messed up during the day, either from the movements of the ship as it flew, or the feet of the Child, who pattered around the hold when he got restless. The kid slowly followed you, his eyes starting to droop. When he yawned, you scooped him up and tucked him into his hammock. “Your dad will be down pretty soon,” you told him, even though you didn’t know what the hell Din was doing up there.

With the kid in bed, and Din busy, you pulled off your boots and got ready to crawl into your nest of blankets. You had just untied the string that held your hair back out of your face when you heard Din’s boots on the ladder. You looked up. He glanced briefly at you and then ducked into the bunk. Oh, well.

“Here,” Din said, suddenly looming over you. He was holding out a scrap of old blanket.

“What?” You took the piece of fabric, wondering what was going on.

“Put it on,” he said curtly, making a circling motion around his head. “Cover your eyes.”

“Um, okay,” you said, twisting the fabric and wrapping it around your face. You tied it behind your head. It was an effective blindfold; you couldn’t see a thing through it’s tight weave.

“Good,” Din said. He reached out and took your hand. “Stand up.” When you did, he moved his hand to your shoulder. “Over here.”

You shuffled after him in your stocking feet. The floor of the hold was cold and hard through your socks. Din carefully adjusted your position and then stood quietly. “What’s going on?” you asked, but he shushed you.

“Almost time,” he said. When the alarm on his chronometer beeped, you heard him take a deep breath, followed by the click and slight hiss of his helmet being detached. You held your breath. Was he … was he really …

A gloved hand stroked your cheek and slid behind your head, holding it steady. “I’m not sure how to do this,” Din said quietly. His voice wasn’t distorted by the vo-coder in the helmet and you heard a nervous quaver in it. “I’ve … I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

Your heart was pounding. It was happening. “That’s okay,” you said softly. “Just do what feels right.” You lifted your hand to touch his face, the face you’d imagined so many times. You gently traced the curve of his cheek, the sharp ridge of his nose, the soft pillows of his lips. You felt his breath hitch as you slid your fingers back and forth against his lips. Then he brushed your hand out of the way and pressed those lips against yours.

It was everything you had imagined, and more. His lips were soft and clumsy as he kissed you, his fingers tightening in your hair as he held your head in place. You lifted your other hand to the back of his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, giving a gentle tug as he pulled back from the kiss. “How was that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Not bad,” you said. “But you definitely need practice.” You pulled him closer and kissed him harder, sliding your tongue along the seam between his lips, until he parted them and you were able to deepen the kiss. When your tongue darted into his mouth, he gasped and his free arm wrapped around your waist. You responded by pressing your body against his armored chest, wishing he’d shed more than his helmet.

After a few minutes, you came up for air. “Happy Midyear,” Din said, his voice raspy.

You laughed and pressed your head against his shoulder pauldron. “Was that my present?” you teased.

“The first of many, I hope,” Din said hesitantly. “I … I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about me, but when I saw the laramin sprig, I thought, what the hell.” His arms tightened around you and pulled you closer to him, squishing you against his armored body.

“Is the kid asleep?” you asked.

“I think so,” he replied. “I closed the door to the bunk.”

You chuckled. “Good idea. He doesn’t need to see this.” You pulled Din’s head down for another kiss, and started backing toward where you thought your bed was. Din steered you by the shoulders until you felt the edge of your foam pad under your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I’ve been dying to find out what’s under all that beskar.” He laughed and kissed you again.

**************************************

When you woke the next morning, you were alone. Your blindfold was gone. Your clothes were folded neatly on a crate next to your bed. You could hear Din talking softly to the Child in the cockpit.

You got up carefully, stiff and sore in places that hadn’t seen much activity recently. You got dressed and made your way to the ‘fresher. After you’d splashed a little water on your face, you climbed the ladder to the cockpit.

“Good morning,” Din said quietly. He was in the pilot’s seat, the Child perched on his lap, watching as he entered coordinates and ran through the pre-launch sequence. The new durasteel ball was clutched in the Child’s hand and the knob had been returned to the lever where it belonged.

“Good morning,” you replied. Din waved you closer and as you came alongside the chair, he slid his hand to the small of your back. You leaned down to greet the Child, who babbled to you about something.

Din sat back in the pilot’s seat. He gently placed the Child on the floor. “Get in your chair and buckle in,” he told the small creature. As the kid toddled toward his seat, Din tilted his helmet up to look at you. His hand returned to your waist. “Last night …,” he began.

You cut him off. “It’s okay if it was just the holiday,” you said. “It’s okay if it never happens again.”

He shook his head. “No, it … it wasn’t just the holiday. I’d like it to happen again. It’s just … I can’t let you see my face. It will have to be like that.” His hand slid gently up and down against your back.

You leaned over him and pressed a kiss against the cold beskar of his helmet. “It’s fine,” you said. “I know how important The Way is to you. I would never ask you to abandon it.”

Din was silent for a long moment, then nodded his head. He pulled away from you. “Okay, then. You’d better get buckled in. We’re taking off in two minutes.”

You took your seat next to the Child. Din finished the last few checks and pressed a button to ignite the engines. As the ship began to lift off the surface, you noticed something dangling above the control panel, jiggling with the vibrations of the ship. A bedraggled sprig of blue and white leaves, tied tightly with a silver ribbon.

#the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #baby yoda #fanfic #din djarin #holiday themed #friends to lovers #din djarin x reader #din Djarin fluff #tooth rotting fluff #festive fic rec list

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fanfics4all · 1 year

Text

Fighting For Her Life

Request: Yes / No Hii can i request a one shot where the reader is injured but hides her injury and later on she passes out in Draco's arms and he gets really scared but with a happy ending and something like that thank you Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2269

Warnings: Death, getting hurt, ya know wizarding war stuff

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The war was here and Voldemort was attacking Hogwarts along with the Death Eaters. I was running around the school trying to keep first years safe, while also running from Death Eaters. I was running down a hall, looking for more people to help. I was looking behind me to make sure there were no Death Eaters around me. That’s when I bumped into someone and feel to the ground. I held my wand up and looked up.

“Y/N?” I sighed in relife.

“Draco! Thank Merlin it’s you!” I said and he helped me up.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking me over.

“I’m fine, are you alright?” I asked and he sighed.

“Fine…” He said, it was clear he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I knew he hated that he was on the wrong side of this war, but it was for his family.

“What are you doing running around the school? You should go hide and be safe.” He said with worried eyes.

“I’m helping people, Dray, the first years are so scared and I’m trying to keep them safe.” I answered.

“I wish you didn’t have that big heart of yours right now.” He said and I smiled.

“I know, love, but someone needs to help them.” I said. Suddenly an ear piercing noise invaded my ears and I grabbed my head. Draco grabbed on to me, but it was clear he was also in pain from whatever this was.

“You’ve fought valiantly, but in vain…” Voldemort’s voice whispered.

“I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I, therefore command my forces to retreat… In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity.” He whispered.

“Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather then face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forrest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me.” He whispered and then it was silent. I fell to the ground, pulling Draco with me. He held me tightly and kissed the side of my head.

“We’re alright now, love.” He whispered and helped me up.

“I should go find Harry.” I whispered and his grip on me tightened.

“Absolutly not. I’m not going to let you die for him.” He said with tears in his eyes.

“Draco…” I whispered and held his face in my hand.

“Please… I need you…” He whispered. I sighed and nodded.

“I’ll stay with you, my love.” I whispered and he pulled me into a tight hug.

Draco and I were walking through the school to find somewhere safe. That’s when we heard a bunch of people walking outside. I furrowed my brow and pulled Draco with me to follow them. When we got outside we saw Voldemort walking up with Hagrid, who was being held by ropes, and an army of Death Eaters. Hagrid was holding someone and I squeezed Draco’s hand tightly.

“Who’s that? Hagrid’s Carrying? Neville, who is it?” Ginny asked as her and her Father walked up next to Neville.

“Harry Potter… is dead!” Voldemort shouted.

“No!” Ginny screamed with such heart break.

“No!” She screamed again and tried to run foward, but her Father stopped her.

“Silence!” Voldemort shouted.

“Stupid girl! Harry Potter is dead!” He said again.

“From this day forth, you’ll put your faith in me.” He said and turned to face his followers.

“Harry Potter is dead!” He shouted again. His followers laughed along with him.

“And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us… or die!” He shouted. No one moved or said a word.

“Draco!” Lucius hissed. People turned and looked our way.

“Draco.” He whispered and motioned with his hand to come forward. Draco still made no move.

“Draco. Come.” His Mother said in a calm tone. Draco sighed and looked around.

“Come with me.” He whispered, but I shook my head.

“I can’t…” I whisperd and let go of his hand. He looked at me sadly and I took a step back.

“Go…” I whispered.

‘I love you.’ I mouthed to him. He smiled at me slightly, but turned to walk to his parents.

“Ah! Well done, Draco.” Voldemort said to him and gave him an awkward hug.

“Well done.” He said again and I glared at him. I watched his Mother take hold of him and pull him back a bit. My eyes never left Draco, he didn’t want to be there… I heard Neville start to give a speech, but all I could focus on was Draco.

“Confringo!” I looked over and Harry had shot a spell at the snake next to Voldemort. Harry was alive! He ran away and Voldemort shot spells at him. Some of Voldemorts followers were leaving him and I watched as Draco was pulled away by his Mother. As long as he was safe…

“Y/N! Come on!” Hermione shouted. I ran over to them and Harry said something about needing to kill the snake. A Death Eater flew at us and I quickly hit them with a spell. I ran off away from my friends and realized I was alone. I was looking around, keeping an eye out for anyone. I heard a noise behind me and I turned to look, but was too slow and was flung to the ground. I groaned and watched the man that hit me smirk. He shot at the ceiling at it crumbled down. I just barly moved out of the way, but was still sliced in my stomach by a very sharp rock.

“Y/N!” I looked up and saw Draco. He shot a spell at the Death Eater, but they blocked it. His parents ran up behind him and shot a spell at the Death Eater before he could send one back at Draco. Draco ran up to me and helped me up.

“Are you alright?” He asked and I covered my stomach.

“I’m fin, love. What are you doing here? You guys should go somewhere safe.” I said and he shook his head.

“I wasn’t just going to leave you.” He whispered and kissed me.

“So this is the girl you’re willing to risk your life for.” His Mother said as she walked up to us with her husband.

“Mother, Father, this is Y/N. Y/N, theses are my parents.” He introduced us.

“Watch out!” I shouted and pushed Draco out of the way. His Father pushed me behind him and blocked the spell that was shot at us. His Mother shot one back and Draco grabbed my hand.

“Perhaps we can get to know her later when it’s safe.” Lucius said. His Mother pulled us along and we all fought through the Death Eaters.

We were sitting in the Great Hall, Voldemort was finally dead. Harry ended the war and the air just felt different. People were smiling, talking, some even laughing. The Malfoy’s looked very uncomfortable being around the people that they had just fought against, but no one really cared. I had completely forgotten about my stomach wound. Draco wrapped his arms around me and smiled.

“Everything is fine.” I said with a smile.

“You’re right, love.” He said and kissed me. When we pulled apart I felt a bit light headed, but didn’t think anything of it. I blinked a few times and Draco looked at me worried.

“Y/N?” He asked, but he sounded like he was far off.

“Love? Are you-” I blacked out and fell into Draco’s lap. That was the last thing that I heard.

*Draco’s POV*

“Y/N? I asked, but she didn’t respond. She swayed a bit and I was growing more worried.

“Love? Are you Al-” I cut myself off as she fell into my lap.

“Y/N? Y/N!” I said and gently shook her. I looked up and my Mother had worry written all over her face.

“What happened?” She asked.

“I-I don’t know!” I said, beginning to panic.

“Calm down, Draco.” She said and placed a gentle hand on my leg.

“Draco? Is everything alright?” Luna asked and I shook my head.

“Y/N passed out, she needs help.” I said and Luna smiled.

“I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey.” She said and hurried off. She returned not too long with Madam Pomfrey.

“Lie her down here, let me look her over.” She said. I laid her on the bench in front of us and I saw blood on her shirt. Madam Pomfrey noticed as well and lifted the shirt up. She had a huge cut along her stomach.

“Do you know how long she’s had this?” She asked and I shook my head.

“I-I didn’t even know she had that…” I admitted. She nodded and quickly got to mending her wound.

“She’ll be alright, but it might take her a bit to wake up.” She said and I nodded.

“Thank you…” I said and she smiled at me.

“Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” She said and walked off to probably help someone else. Luna sat next to Y/N’s head and smiled down at her.

“She’ll be alright, Draco.” She said and I nodded.

“Luna!” Someone called and she smiled at me. I gave her a small one back and she walked off.

“She’ll be alright, son.” Father said. I nodded and kept my eyes on Y/N.

“Are her parents around?” Mother asked. I looked around the room and shook my head.

“I don’t see them…” I answered.

“Perhaps I’ll go ask someone.” She said and got up.

Just a few moments later my Mother returned with Mrs. Weasley following her. Mother took a seat next to me and Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at Y/N.

“Y/N’s parents are dead…” Mother said and I stared at her shocked.

“W-What?” I asked.

“I’m afraid they died while fighting some Death Eaters…” Mrs. Weasley said.

“B-But they can’t be… What about Y/N?” I asked and she gave me a small smile.

“Professor McGonagal will likely find a home for her, or we can take her in if she’d like. We don’t have a lot of room, but Y/N is like family.” She answered.

“Or she can come and live with us if she pleases.” Mother said and I looked at her shocked.

“Really?” I asked and she nodded.

“It’s clear you care for each other if you’re both willing to die for one another. I see no reason why she can’t come and live with us.” She answered and Father nodded in agreement. Mrs. Weasley looked at us shocked.

“Well then, I believe I know what Y/N will pick. Just take care of her, would you?” She asked and My Mother nodded.

“We will.” She said. Mrs. Weasley nodded and went back to her family. I heard someone groan and shot my head down to Y/N. She slowly started sitting up and rubbed her head.

“What happened?” She asked and I gently hugged her.

“You’re stomach was cut open, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked and she glanced down at her stomach.

“Oh right. I suppose I just forgot.” She said and I stared at her like she was mad.

“You just forgot?” I asked and she nodded.

“I got it when that Death Eater tired to collaspe the ceiling on me. One of the stones slashed my stomach, but I figured it wasn’t that bad.” She said and I shook my head.

“You should have told me then and there!” I asked and she gave me a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, love. It was kind of tense and I didn’t need you worrying anymore than I knew you already were.” She said and I sighed.

“I’ll always worry about you.” I said and she nodded.

“I know.” She said and pecked my lips. My Father cleared his throat and we looked over at them.

“Y/N, dear, there’s something you should know.” Mother said and Y/N tilted her head curiously.

“It’s about your parents…” She trailed off and Y/N sighed.

“They’re dead, I know.” She said and we stared at her shocked.

“How do you…”

“I saw them while I was trying to protect first years.” She said and I grabbed her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“Again, it was really tense and we were kind of in the middle of a war.” She said and I sighed.

“Have you grieved?” I asked and she shook her head.

“I didn’t have time…” She admitted.

“You have time now, love.” I said and gently pulled her into my lap. I held her to him and felt her grip me tightly.

“I-I don’t know what to do…” She whispered.

“Cry, if you’d like.” I said and she shrugged.

“I suppose I’m just sort of numb to it right now…” She said and I nodded.

“That’s alright. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me.” I said and she smiled slightly.

“There’s also another thing.” Mother said and Y/N looked over at her.

“If you’d like, you may come and live with us at the Manor.” She said and Y/N smiled.

“I would love nothing more. Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.” She said.

“Narcissa, please.” Mother said.

“Narcissa. Thank you.” Y/N said and snuggled into me. Today had taken a lot from everyone, but as long as I had my Y/N, everything would be fine.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @impulse-anchor @psamathegoesrawr @nighttimemoonlover @liz-owl @dracoswhvre

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter and the deathly hallows part 2 #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x fem!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #fanfic #request

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mp0625 · 7 months

Text

Sun and Sand

Pyotr Kochetkov x reader

Taglist. Masterlist.

A/N: sorry it was posted late, this is for Pyotr’s shutout on Saturday

You came down to Florida with Pyotr to support him in his second stint in the NHL this season after Andersen was sidelined. You said it was an excuse to support him but you really just wanted to go to the beach.

After the bad loss on Friday to Florida with Pyotr sitting on the bench. You were ready to get home, but you still had to go through Tampa. When you got off the plane that you took with the boys to Tampa there was a sense of dread in the air for not knowing if the game will end well or not. With Pyotr starting you were nervous as hell because you didn’t know what was going to happen. As the periods ticked away in the game, and save after save that Pyotr made, your anxiety got less and less. When the clock hit zero and the buzzer went off, you screamed your head off, and you went to celebrate with the team.

The morning after you woke up in Pyotr’s arms cuddled up, after a few minutes when you knew he was awake. You softly asked “Instead of taking the plane back with the team can we stay an extra day and go to the beach?”

He looked down on you with a soft smile and a kiss and said “Of course, baby.” “Is that why you packed our bathing suits?” He said with a grin.

“Maybe”

Once y’all got ready to go, you took an Uber to Clearwater beach. The sand was so white and the water so blue and warm. You swam while Pyotr read. After a while you convinced him to come swim with you. Y’all jumped the waves and swam in the salty water. After a while both of you started to get hungry, so you found a taco shop down the beach a little bit. Once y’all were filled with tacos, y’all went back out into the sun to read and nap. As it was getting dark Pytor woke you up and said “It’s getting dark we should probably head out.”

“But I’m hungry.” You said

“I’ll find somewhere to eat.” He said holding up a finger, “The phone said there is a seafood place up the road from here with good reviews.”

“Ooo let’s do that.”

When y’all got to the restaurant, it smelled delicious. As you sat down, you hadn’t realized how red you had gotten till now. “Oops I forgot to reapply sunscreen after lunch.” Once dinner was done, y’all Ubered back to your hotel, as you were getting ready for bed, you mentioned to Pyotr “Do we have to leave? The weather here is 10 times better than Raleigh.”

A/N pt 2: Yes I’ve been to Tampa and Clearwater a bunch of times that’s how I was able to put the details in.

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @topguncultleader @wondershells

I know I have a few people on the taglist that are new but I’m doing on this on my phone and I don’t have access to the list I’m going to tag them tomorrow when I put this on the masterlist

#carolina hurricanes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #pyotr kochetkov x reader #pyotr kochetkov #canes lb #hockey girlies discord

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billford-dump · 1 year

Note

Hi! I just wanna say I really like your content, and it's nice to see another Bill Cipher fan! I'm really sorry if you already have this written somewhere and I just didn't see it, but do you have a list of your Bill headcanons, if you have some? I like reading other people's headcanons and comparing them to my own!

Have a good rest of your day/night!

:D!!!! You've made my entire week with this ask tbh, its always wonderful to hear that someone enjoys the stuff I make! As for Bill headcanons, I don't have them all listed anywhere, but I try to tag everything so you should be able to find a bunch under #bill cipher, although it will be mixed with a lot of other stuff.

A few of my more concrete thoughts:

He's immortal. As in, he literally destroyed his mortality and can't age or die. It was fun at first, but at this point he's starting to worry he'll genuinely live forever, which is arguably worse than death.

Just as much "Icarus" as Ford. Absolutely jam-packed with hubris.

He wouldn't hurt someone for no reason. It's a waste of time. That being said, his reason for hurting people is often "entertainment" because he got bored, so make of that what you will.

A genius in any field you would care to mention, but knowing so much means it can take a while to sort through it all and accurately answer a question, which is boring. A lot of what he says is just confident bullshit. If he comes across the knowledge immediately? Great! If not? He'll make something up.

#ask

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barrenclan · 1 year

Note

I know you don't want to make a blog that's only the comic without all the thousands of asks you get, and you don't want to upload it all somewhere else until it's done, but could you maybe but the number of the latest issue in your description or something?

I can't check for updates regularly and am awful at remembering schedules, so the current set up makes it a bit of a nuisance to follow the story. I understand why you're opposed to other options, but having to scroll through a bunch of asks that you might not care about at all, or that might already contain spoilers just to be able to check whether or not there even was a new issue is extremely annoying and makes catching up really unappealing if you've missed several updates or even just a new one by a couple of days.

Sure, I could add the latest issue to my description, that's honestly not a bad idea.

But frankly (and this is not directed at you; it's just something I deal with a lot), all the information anyone could ever need is in my pinned post, and when people don't read it, it's not really my fault. It's not my job to be a Tumblr guide.

This one is what annoys me the most, cause it's bolded and everything and I STILL get asks about it:

Pinned posts are pinned for a reason. Tumblr tags are an incredibly useful feature. All the ones listed in my description I've manually added to the search tool, so you don't even have to type them in yourself.

#ask #anon #advice #again not mad at you #i just feel this needs to be said atp

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meat-wentz · 1 year

Note

Hi there I was wondering if you knew of any way to identify authentic vintage FOB merch from fakes/reprints, I only ask because it seems like you have a collection of vintage FOB shirts, sorry if this question is directed to the wrong blog ❤️❤️

yes i do have some pointers!!!

investigate sellers. if a deal looks too good to be true it probably is, make sure the seller looks legit and has legit reviews if any reviews. if a collector is getting rid of their collection, there’s a really good chance all of their stuff is legit and they will note any boots or reprints, so i always check a seller’s page to see if they have a series of similar listings (could be say a bunch of fob and clandestine stuff, or even just an experienced merch reseller who has tons of band listings) and if they are i know i’m probably in the clear. a lot of times the opposite is also true! someone might just have a holy grail piece they’ve kept in their mom’s garage for 20 years and decide to finally part ways with it, most often this will be the only listing of that band + other listings of high school clothes or other clothes they’re selling, etc. i’ve found more of the latter than the former, for really good prices! you can also ask questions about the piece, like if there’s a back print, if i can get a pic of the tag, if i can see details (zippers, closeups on design, ink wear).

there are lots of indexes of tags and their approximate date information available out there, gildan for example can be less identifiable because a lot of merch and bootleggers still use gildan as their go to, but gildan’s had a long history of different tags, and if you’re able to find a good resource on what, say a tag from 2004 looks like, you’d be able to see if it matched the tag you’re looking at or if that shirt was printed last week. there are some more easily identifiable tags from the time period like bay island tags are always typically a dead giveaway you’re dealing with authentic merch. tags CAN be faked but it’s not typical for items like merch. another good sign for printed tags is if there’s wear on the tag itself former, real soft, sometimes blank or fading, etc, you just wanna see this thing has been used and abused. lots of people cut out their tags but if you can see any wear on cut tags (lots of soft, loose, threading, obvious it’s been through years of washing), that’s a sign you take if there’s no tag.

item wear. much like the last point, i usually look at items that have been very loved. darker colors will fade, so if im dealing with black shirts i often look for a fade as well. ink will crack over the years, so i always keep an eye out for any cracking or wear and i always like to see if the ink looks a little TOO intact and flexible. ink is not ALWAYS the most reliable way to clock a fake, but it’s a tool you can use.

have a good sense of what merch from the era looked like, if you can follow merch archives or go in the waybackmachine and look at the merch store or follow collector accounts, there’s a good chance you will probably be able to find the design you’re looking at. fob has very distinct logos for each time period so if i see an infinity on high logo on a futct keyhole im like alright that’s not real. they have stylistic moments that adhere to their albums really well. tttyg era merch has a lot of bitey commentary and usually darker colors, more big and bold designs. futct has a whole lot of gold and red and deer and on the other side of the spectrum bright colors and a kind of 70’s-ish almost high school sports-leaning font and theme.

the plus side is i haven’t run into a whole lot of fob fakes! a dead giveaway is if the photo looks funky like it was snagged from off the internet or you’ve seen a pic of that shirt floating around, (you can always reverse image search and see if that photo was snagged from somewhere else!), i like when i can tell a photo was actually taken in someone’s house or space, walls, hangers, carpets, on someone’s bed, it’s just a good way to see someone is a real person. another dead giveaway is if you see multiple sizes and a low price of $24.99 for a shirt you know is super rare, that’s a fake and that is some weird internet swindler who most likely won’t even give you a decent print of what they’re advertising they have. i also appreciate sellers who list measurements, talk about the fit, just give more information than a “BLACK SHIRT 100% COTTON.” fob do have some weirdos on eBay who’ve been selling these bogus reprints, but for the most part i haven’t seen them anywhere else.

so many bootleggers are cool and they will not try to trick you into thinking you’re getting an original print. bootleggers will give you the information about what kind of shirts they will be printing on, what kind of ink they will be using, how long their print runs will be, etc, they will make it explicitly clear that this is a bootleg design, AND they will most likely give you one that’s killer in quality. i own a BUNCH of boots of certain designs im sure will never see the light of day again, at the end of the day i will prioritize my desire for a certain design over authenticity (and also support legit, cool bootleggers who are making sure these designs don’t get lost to time). there are certain pieces i won’t budge on my requirement that they be authentic. at the end of the day it’s your collection and you get to make the rules!

#ask #anon #it might also help to have a list of your ISO’s and do research on them #that way when you run across a listing you can say oh that’s authentic!

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mollymarymarie · 8 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for tagging me @squintclover you treasure ❤️😘 i'm gonna make this a keep reading, because i get wordy

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

In total, I have 39 works on Ao3

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

so i didn't know this but apparently i have over a million words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I don't write for HP anymore, but that's the majority of my fics. I have a few for the marvel universe and two weird real people fics (which now give me the ick so i won't be writing those anymore either)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dear Your Holiness (lots of people share my priest kink apparently)

The Road Not Taken (for the angst, i'm sure)

The Lad That Loved You (it's my oldest wolfstar fic)

Bird Set Free (figure skating, Yuri On Ice, what's not to love)

When It Counted (this one sort of surprises me, but it's amortentia-based, so I think that aspect is the draw)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! not as often as i'd like but i do read them all right away, i have notifications for ao3 comments turned on. in that way, i get to enjoy them twice!

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a short oneshot called Midnight about Halloween 1981 and I have another one called Where The Willow Don't Bend about Remus being a ghost at Hogwarts. I think those both end pretty angsty

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In general, all my fics have happy endings. i go to fiction to escape the fact that almost nothing in life has a happy ending so i don't really like ending stories with anything except happiness. I really like the ending of We Can Pretend - they're in love, they get to be together, they're in Paris, their friends are all there with them, they're singing Nat King Cole to each other on a balcony while coq au vin is on the stove. fantasy scenario tbh.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

sure do. i won't list it. one thing that happens (which isn't exactly hate, but it makes me laugh) is when people criticize the fact that wolfstar are mentioned as having greys in The Road Not Taken because they're only 28/29 so they can't possibly have grey hair lol (i definitely had greys by that age, 100%)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yeah most of my fic is smut, but i'm sort of getting away from that. the TENSION is the best part, in my opinion.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

nah, not really interested, i guess.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. my fics have been put up on other sites without my permission but my name was still attached to it, at least.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

a few! usually DYH. it's always nice to have someone ask for permission to translate.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, mostly because i'm a control freak lol

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

it used to be wolfstar (kinda soured on me for multiple reasons, the biggest one being JKR is a piece of shit and getting associated with her works is not fun)

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

back when i was watching Preacher, i was (still am) obsessed with Joe Gilgun, so i definitely have a Proinsias Cassidy fic in the WIPs somewhere that will never get finished, but i do go back to it from time to time because, i mean, irish vampire. give it to me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

do i have any???? people tell me i do tension well. maybe that?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

first of all, NOT PLANNING AHEAD, figuring it out as i go and then having to go back and change a bunch of shit when i inevitably fuck it up. also, commas. i use FAR too many commas. i won't be stopped.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i have a few fics that i have done that for. with French, with Russian, and now with Portuguese. it's difficult, Google Translate will only get you so far, but i LOVE languages so much. people will usually politely correct me

19. First fandom you wrote for?

OH TRUTH BE TOLD the Good Charlotte fandom, i am not even joking you right now. wrote an ENORMOUS self-insert fic for me and my friends with the members of Good Charlotte (i was with Benji, obviously) at the age of like 15 and the plot was SO fucking ridiculous. i mean. john mayer was there, ville valo from HIM was there (the main character had dated both of them before benji, of course). Elijah Wood was in there at some point and i think he was a murderer???? i should do a dramatic re-telling of what happens in this fic over tumblr (i will not post it, it is so so badly written)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

truthfully, i think it's Dear Your Holiness. i wrote that just after losing my grandmother and all of the conversations about faith still sort of hit me in the gut even now. plus the tension is really nice, i love the idea of a heavily tattooed Remus, and it's the music of my teenage years so it's very sentimental for that reason, too.

#tag game #fic writer asks #this was fun!#thanks for tagging me love #i don't really tag people that often #but if you want to fill this out #consider this your tag

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duxpuella · 2 years

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Hii! How are you? Idk if your requests are open but i would like to request Neil Perry x fem reader o any pronouns i don’t mind, where the reader is a singer and has a bunch of songs written about Neil, and he loves them ofc. Thank you!!🫶🏼

Headcanons of Neil P. with a (fem!) singer reader

<Atention: Modern AU where Neil lives, and Welton’s a boys & girls school.

Warnings: Fluff, just lots of cheesy love and Neil Perry being amazing; >

Note: This was more self indulgent than I originally planned, but I wrote as if they ended pursuing the artistic careers (reader as a singer and Neil as an actor) with a happy ending, because we all need one. Hope you like this, let me know if you need anything else :)

Also, here’s my Neil playlist, hope you enjoy it!

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The first time Neil heard you sing was in the school choir, he was mesmerized. He often would play your favorite tunes with just the right volume to hear the words floating out of your mouth. He never knew if you could see through his actions, but you would always sing.

Once you graduated and started pursuing your musical career he was nothing but supportive. You were sharing a tiny apartment in New York, living from part-time jobs and pouring the rest of you into your art and each other. It was beautiful and those years were glorious.

At a certain point, things got better. Neil started to get casted in bigger and bigger plays as his graduation was getting closer. Meantime you were working on your first original work. You should do an album with an original melody and lyrics as a final paper, then present it to a jury. The best ones would gain a contract with a famous music producer and get the chance to enter the music industry.

Neil was your muse, your primal inspiration. You didn't let him see your drafts but you would perform the finished songs to him every time. And he loved it, he never stopped loving hearing you sing. Some of them made him cry, others made him recall the memories you gathered together over the years.

He went to your presentation, of course. He assured you that everything was fine, that your work was touching and wholesome, and that they would be stupid not to invest in it. He took you to dinner after and cuddle you to sleep stopping anxiety to get the best of you.

He was holding your hand when you got the news that you not just had passed (and would, in fact, graduate) but that they loved your songs and would like to launch your career. He was with you all the way, he would always be. You were his favorite singer, his favorite lyricist, his favorite musician.

Neil would be your nº1 fan, supporter, and hype man.

He would give good advice on producing and creativity (as an artist himself).

Great emotional support because being an artist can be very emotionally draining, and he knows it.

He would LOVE hearing the songs for the first time and helping you improve them.

Talks about your songs to everyone.

Has convinced (more than once) musical play producers to hire you.

Loves to interpret your songs as well.

He bought you a portable voice recorder once, so that you could take note of ideas more properly (with rhythm and melody).

He always buys your CDs on pre-sale.

He loves your lyrics and has a verse tattoed somewhere on his arm.

With time, both of you became very successful and quickly were the It Couple, people were just fascinated by your story and how you were always supportive of each other's work.

Needless to say that there were TONS of edits on TikTok about the both of you, and you're fans were also very connected. In general, the public loved you.

You were asked to be a fan's adoptive parents very often though, LOL.

Tag list: @tall-my-beloved ;

Hope you like it! I take requests by ask! (info on requests);

Also, you’ll find more of my writing here.

#duxpuella headcanons #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps headcanons #dps hc #dps fic #neil perry #neil perry x reader

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doggernaut · 1 month

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20 questions for fic writers

Thank you to @cricketnationrise and @the-lincyclopedia for the tags! I'm not sure if many of my answers have changed since the last time I did one of these, but it's been a while, so.

How many works do you have on ao3?

What's your total ao3 word count?

613,109

What fandoms do you write for?

I only have works for Check, Please! on ao3, but I have also written for Parks and Recreation and Baby-Sitters Club.

Top five fics by kudos:

All I Want is You

Just Jack

Here Comes the Sun

I Only Have Pies for You (honestly surprised this one is in the top 5!)

And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to every comment, but sometimes I fall short. I do appreciate every single one, though!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm pretty sure that anybody who's read my stories knows I only write happy endings. Even if there is angst at some point in the fic, you can count on that "angst with a happy ending" tag.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

lol, see above. Though I will maintain that And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? and And you may say to yourself, my god, what have I done? might be the happiest simply because they each have (spoiler alert) three happy endings.

Do you get hate on fics?

I'm sure there are people who don't love my writing for whatever reason, but fortunately they've kept it to themselves.

Do you write smut?

Any attempts have probably fallen short of being actual smut. It's not my favorite thing to write (so many body parts to describe and keep track of!) but sometimes the storyline dictates it.

Craziest crossover:

I'm not generally a fan of crossovers (though I've read some great ones in various fandoms!) and have never written a true crossover, but Pucks and Recreation was inspired by Parks and Recreation.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A BSC fic with a bunch of people from the old FameTracker (I am showing my age) forums. It is (or was, last time I looked a few years ago) on FF.net. Once I randomly saw somebody somewhere online describing the fic in question but thinking it was a real BSC book they'd read, so that was pretty cool.

All time favorite ship?

Jack/Bitty, Ben/Leslie, and let's go way back to my formative grumpy/sunshine ship: Jack and Jennifer from Days of Our Lives. It imprinted on me when I was 11 and I'm probably remembering it as being better than it was, but it was a good time.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

At this point, I really don't know. I have a lot of "WIPs" that consist of a couple of paragraphs of dialogue or bullet-point lists or whatever and who knows if I'll ever dust them off. But I'm currently making an effort to finish everything I've put serious time into.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

As a reader I don't have a problem with it if it makes sense for the story. As a writer I probably wouldn't, simply because I don't speak another language well enough to incorporate it.

First fandom you wrote in?

That I actually published online? The Baby-Sitters Club, in like 2005. Ever? I went through this phase of writing self-insert fics when I was in sixth grade. Usually they involved me dating whichever character was played by an actor I had a crush on. I was not aware I was writing fanfic at this time. I'm pretty sure I wrote a fic in which I was in a band with Doogie Howser, MD and he asked me to be his girlfriend? THANK GOODNESS this was in an era before I had access to a computer with internet.

(A year or so later, I was still writing, but it was very bad romance fiction modeled after all the Harlequin romance novels I was reading at the time. Still just as cringe. My middle school BFF used to read them and write praise/critiques in the margins and I still remember this one long back-and-forth where we argued about how long a first kiss should last, because neither of us had experience in that department.)

Favorite fic you've written?

I don't know! I love all my children. Truthfully it's probably one of my multi-chapter fics, but I tend to favor whichever I'm in the mood to read at the moment. Maybe today it's Home Like Apple Pie.

#20 questions #fic

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steddieworks · 1 year

Text

finally safe for me to fall - chapter 1

hello! this is my first chapter for my new steddie fic, and I am so SO excited to start posting it!

read on ao3

Summary: Eddie Munson is trapped in a life where he feels like a burden. He needs a purpose, someone to take care of.

Enter Steve Harrington, father of twin girls, who is in desperate need of someone to take care of his daughters, and maybe himself.

Warnings for this chapter: swearing

Words: 3.7k

The collar of the stiff button-down scratches at Eddie’s neck. He has the unflinching urge to reach up and scratch, but that hardly feels appropriate right now, especially given the itch is coming from somewhere close to his mating gland. Despite being in an otherwise empty room, he knows that there are people milling about somewhere beyond these walls, and he’d be embarrassed as hell if one of them came back to find him itching at his neck like some kind of diseased freak.

Okay, maybe he’s projecting. Maybe that’s a very normal thing to do, and he’s just so out of tune with being around people that he can’t get everything together in his brain. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

He’s still deliberating about the stupid tag or string, or whatever it is that itches, when the door swings open. Eddie’s not proud of the way he jumps at the sound.

A woman stands there, well-dressed and business-like, a kind smile on her face. “Mr. Munson, correct?”

Eddie stands, subtly wiping his hand on his jeans before offering it for a handshake. “Yes, that’s me.”

The woman smiles at him, a twitch of her lips like she’s amused by his gesture, but she takes his hand nonetheless. “Great. Mr. Harrington wanted me to apologize for the delay, his meeting dragged on a little bit longer than he expected. He’s ready to see you now, if you’ll just follow me.”

Eddie nods, reaching behind himself to grab the only two items he brought with him to this interview, his leather jacket and a file folder that contains one measly sheet of paper masquerading as his resume. It’s not super impressive, so he’s hoping his thoughtful presentation of it will make up the gap.

As he follows the young woman down a series of corridors, she introduces herself. “I’m Robin, Steve’s assistant.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie says politely. He racks his brain for an appropriate question to ask her, of the job, the potential employer, anything. The only thing he comes up with is, “So, what does Mr. Harrington do? This is a, uh…” He glances around them at the opulence, trying to find the right word for it all. “A very prestigious-looking place.”

Robin snorts. The sound, so out of place in the stark white hallways smelling of rich lavender and patchouli, startles a small giggle out of Eddie, and immediately puts him at ease. “He’s the CFO of this company. I couldn’t even begin to explain to you what all the company does, all I know is they buy a bunch of smaller ones and sell them off, and I think maybe manage the ones worth keeping?” Robin shrugs, then leans into Eddie with a voice like she’s telling a secret. “I wouldn’t bother asking him either, he’s tried explaining the logistics of it all to me for years and I still have no clue what he’s talking about half of the time.”

Eddie laughs at that. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks for the tip,” he whispers back.

His guide grins at him, coming to a stop at a large oak door at the end of a hallway. There’s a nameplate directly next to the door, and the name Steve Harrington glints at him in bold, gold-plated letters. That sign alone probably cost more than all of Eddie’s personal belongings, he thinks bitterly.

“Alright. Steve’s a little scatterbrained sometimes, so don’t be alarmed if he asks you something like, four times,” Robin says, gesturing to her head with a vague fluttering finger. She drops her voice before speaking again. “He did mention that you were like, at the top of his list of candidates, so try not to be too nervous, okay?” She smiles, like that’s supposed to be encouraging.

Eddie feels like he’s going to puke. That’s possibly the last thing he wanted to hear, and if anything, he’s even more anxious than before, knowing the man already has expectations of him. “Right,” he says, straightening his shirt out nervously, reaching up and ensuring that all his frizzy hair is still tucked neatly into the bun he’d crafted earlier. “And you’re positive he’s okay with a male omega applying to be the nanny of his kids? He knows that, right?”

Robin smiles, but something glints in her eyes like she knows something he doesn’t. “Positive. You’re gonna do great, Eddie.”

Before Eddie can even question how she could be so sure of such a thing, Robin is leaning past him and rapping her manicured fist against the wood, twice, three times. “Steven, your eleven o’clock is here,” she calls out politely.

Eddie is going to pass out, he’s so goddamn nervous.

“Send him in,” a voice calls from behind the door.

Robin reaches for Eddie’s wrist, squeezing gently. “Good luck,” she whispers quietly before stepping back, gesturing Eddie forward.

He takes a deep breath, then grabs the handle, embarrassed at how his sweaty hand sticks against the cool metal. He clears his throat, then enters the room.

The first thing he notices is the amount of natural light. It doesn’t take long to pinpoint the culprit, a massive wall of windows situated just opposite the heavy oak door, which closes gently behind him as he steps into the room. The next thing his eyes flick to is the massive desk just in front of those windows, and then to the man standing directly in front of that desk.

He’s tall, probably six-foot at least, and lean, his body one long, gorgeous line leaning back on his desk, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his charcoal gray trousers. He’s got a white, expensive-looking button down tucked into those trousers, a blazer that matches his pants hugging his arms and shoulders nicely. Eddie’s eyes travel up the length of him in a couple of seconds, but it feels like hours in the quiet stillness of the room. Then his eyes meet soft brown ones, and he knows immediately that he’s fucked.

“Hey there. I’m Steve, you must be Edward?” The man says politely, stepping forward and holding his hand out for a polite, business-like handshake.

And fuck. Either the man doesn’t believe in scent-blockers or they just aren’t fucking strong enough, because as soon as he steps forward, Eddie is engulfed in the scent of soft vanilla, the most homely, comforting scent he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling, he’s sure. There’s something underneath it, too, something a bit stronger, almost like a bourbon, and Eddie immediately knows this man has got to be pure alpha. No other designation would smell that good to him, he’s almost sure of it.

He realizes, belatedly, that Steve is still waiting for him to move. Great. Now he looks like an idiot.

“Eddie.” His own voice surprises him, and he gives himself a mental high-five for being able to speak without sounding like an absolute fool, when internally, he’s screaming. “I go by Eddie,” he elaborates when Steve quirks an eyebrow, returning the handshake and praying his hand isn’t still sweaty.

“Alright, Eddie,” Steve says with a smile. He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.” He steps back to his desk, and Eddie expects him to go behind it to his own chair, so he’s a little surprised when instead, Steve takes the seat adjacent to Eddie’s. “Do you mind if I sit here? I hate having a desk between myself and someone else when trying to have an interview. Makes me feel like a douchebag,” Steve jokes.

Eddie nods, filing away the language. So this man clearly isn’t going for an overly-elaborate farce of professionalism. Either he’s just like that, or he’s trying to trick Eddie so he’ll slip up and look like an idiot. He decides to tread carefully, just in case. “Yes, sir, that’s fine with me,” Eddie replies with a nod.

Steve’s face flickers with something vaguely displeased, but he nods. “So, let’s start with the basics. Tell me about yourself.”

God. That dreaded question.

Eddie forces a pleasant smile on his face before he begins speaking. “Well, I’m from a small town not too far from here. I wanted to move to the city for, um… personal reasons.” He hopes the lie isn’t too obvious. He didn’t want to move to the city at all, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. He just needs to be impressed with him and give him a job.

“Sure,” Steve says neutrally, more so just bridging the gap of silence that stretches out after Eddie hesitates. “Where did you work prior to applying for this job?”

Eddie is sure his face is pink. He knew the question was coming, but it still embarrasses him, just a little. He tries to cover it up by glancing down at his file folder, sliding the one sheet of paper out of it and handing it over to Steve with a nervous tremble in his hand. “Um. I’ll be honest, sir, I haven’t had much experience in… this sort of job.”

Steve skims the paper quickly, and Eddie can’t help but watch the way his eyes dart across the page. It’s not much. His education was nothing impressive, just a high school diploma, no college. The work experience wasn’t anything to write home about, either. He had included working at his uncle’s automotive shop, since Wayne had agreed to serve as a reference if he needed it, and since Mrs. Henderson had allowed him to put her down too, he added babysitting to his experience as well. Dustin, the now twenty-year-old baby-to-be-sat in question, probably wouldn’t find the humor in that, but hey, what’s a little fabrication over something that had occurred nearly seven years ago?

“Right,” Steve says, glancing up from the paper to Eddie. “So, this is the only professional experience you’ve had?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, just curious, but Eddie still shrinks in his seat, embarrassed.

“Uh, yes, sir.” He glances down at his hands, cursing himself for not wearing his rings today. He would love to have something to fiddle with right about now. “I, um… Can I speak candidly, sir?”

Steve nods, leaning forward to place the skinny resume on his desk. “Please,” he says, gesturing for Eddie to continue as he sits back, crossing his left ankle over his right knee.

Eddie doesn’t let his eyes wander to where they want to. “Right. Well, I haven’t had… a great couple of years, if I’m honest. I wanted to…” he sighs, shakes his head. Feels stupid before he continues, “I wanted to be a musician, so I’ve spent the past few years out of high school working for my uncle while doing gigs and things on the side, hoping to go somewhere with that.”

Steve perks up, looking interested. “Oh? What sort of music do you play?”

Eddie smirks, almost laughs. “Um, metal,” he says. He hates to be that guy, the one who judges someone’s music taste on their appearance - but come on. The guy had perfectly-styled gelled hair, and a suit that probably cost more than Eddie’s first car. It wasn’t a long shot to guess the guy probably listens to Harry Styles or The Script, some shit like that.

“Ah,” Steve says, giving a vague nod. Bingo, I was right, Eddie thinks coyly. “So… what happened there? Are you giving up on that dream?”

And that… sort of stings. He’s not heard it said so bluntly yet, but Steve, this stranger, has just hit the nail on the head. “Uh, not exactly,” Eddie says, trying hard not to bristle at him. “I’m just… putting it on pause. Considering other options, I guess.”

Steve nods, like that’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Eddie can’t explain why, but that irks him a bit. “Okay. So, why this option? Other than babysitting, you didn’t mention any previous child-rearing experience, so why do you want to be a nanny?”

And isn’t that the million dollar question?

Wayne had thought Eddie insane when he told him about this job, excitedly showing him the newspaper clipping like a kid showing off a star sticker on a test. He’d actually asked Eddie if he felt okay, if he was sure this is something he thought he wanted. Eddie understood the concern, since it really wasn’t like him, but…

But the thing is, he’s getting older. He’s already twenty-six, unmated, and no prospects in sight. And after that night, the night his band sort of fell apart, he was hyper-aware of something missing from his life. The idea of a family, however vague it had been before, was plaguing him now, everywhere he went.

He’s not sure how the hell to explain that to Steve, though.

He takes a deep breath, and tries. “I know this is going to sound selfish, but… at my age, I’m not sure I’ll ever have a family of my own. It’s something I want, obviously, but things aren’t really looking good, and it hit me recently that I don’t necessarily have to have it the way everyone expects me to. I just thought…” He shrugs, figuring he’s already shown all his pathetic cards. No point in hiding this one. “I thought that this way, I could at least have that experience of raising children, and be able to enjoy it while I’m still relatively young. And also help out a family who needs the help, of course.” Eddie admittedly tacks on the last part for posterity’s sake, but judging by the look on Steve’s face, it works.

“Huh,” he hums, giving Eddie an appraising look. “Well, I have to say, that’s probably the most unique answer I’ve heard to that question.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. Shit. Did he already blow it? Goddamn it, if he could just learn to keep his mouth shut, then-

“Can you cook? Do basic house chores?” Steve is asking, still looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks, then nods, a little confused. Surely if this wasn’t going well, he wouldn’t keep asking questions, right? “Yes sir, I can,” he answers verbally, remembering his manners at the last minute.

Steve nods. “Perfect. My children are in school, so you won’t have to worry about having them there around-the-clock, but I will expect you to do some housekeeping duties while they’re gone during the day. You’ll have your own room, and we can negotiate days off, which you will spend at your leisure, of course.”

Eddie stares at him. “Um. What?” He asks, a little more blunt that he’d intended.

His interruption seems to startle Steve. “Hm? Oh, yes. I’m offering you the job, if you’d like it.”

Again, Eddie stares. “Are you… You don’t have any more questions for me?” Suddenly he’s a little desperate, suffering from emotional whiplash after thinking he’d bombed this just minutes ago, and now he’s being offered the job? What?

Steve blinks at him, his eyebrows crawling up that beautiful, clear forehead. “None really come to mind. Why? Do you think there’s anything I missed?” He sounds vaguely worried, a little crease forming between his eyebrows, like he’s trying to figure it out.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I just meant - sir, you don’t even know me. And you’re just going to - just offer me the job?”

Steve gives him a look like he’s the strange one. “Um. Yes?” He laughs then, and Eddie hates that he finds the sound so attractive. “That’s kind of how this goes, I think.”

“You don’t want to know anything else about me? If I know CPR, or how to change a diaper, or-” Eddie is well aware he’s rambing, and apparently his self-destructive tendencies run deeper than he could have ever imagined, because here he is, probably ruining his chances of getting this job entirely.

“My children have been out of diapers for years,” Steve interrupts, a small smirk on his lips. “And I can teach you CPR, or how to do any other things you might not know how to do. Being a parent isn’t knowing everything on day one, Eddie. People have to teach you things, and I wouldn’t expect you to know everything.”

Eddie gawks at him. That sounds baffling, coming from the man interviewing him to basically raise his children. A thought pops into his head then. “What about your mate? Would they have more questions for me?”

Steve’s face darkens then, and Eddie instinctively cringes back. Shit.

“I don’t have a mate,” he says evenly, his voice a few degrees colder. “It’s just me and the twins. And, to assuage your concerns, Eddie, I’m not worried about you not having tons of experience. You’re exactly what I’m looking for in this position.”

“And what’s that?” Eddie can’t help but ask.

Steve gives him a little smile. “Well, for starters, you’re an omega, and I want my children to be omega-reared. So that ticks that box.”

For some reason, that sort of rubs Eddie the wrong way, but he swallows it down, nodding. “Okay,” he says neutrally. “And that’s it?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. You’re also smart, polite, and your concern for how I’ve conducted this interview tells me more than any nosy questions ever could. You’re sitting there, terrified that I’m going to put some strange man in charge of my children without even getting to know him first. So I know you’ll be protective of them, and look out for their well-being. That means more to me than whether or not you’ve changed a diaper before, Eddie.”

Eddie sits there, in silent shock. Or maybe, he thinks passively as he studies the easy grin on Steve’s face, maybe it’s awe. He’s in awe of how this man conducted this interview so seamlessly that he learned things about Eddie that Eddie couldn’t have adequately conveyed in any other way. “Oh,” he says dumbly.

Steve gives him a sympathetic little tilt of the head. “And I mean, we’ve already conducted a background check. You can’t really hide anything from me, sweetheart.” He shrugs, like it’s truly as simple as that.

And maybe it is.

Still, Eddie has a few concerns. “Right. So you know all you need to know-”

“For now,” Steve interrupts. He smiles when Eddie gives him a look of astonishment. “I expect I’ll learn more things about you, working together in this capacity. And in getting you trained to take care of my children, I’ll learn what you know and what you don’t know.”

Eddie wants to roll his eyes. All of that feels like semantics, comparatively speaking.

He shrugs instead. “Okay, sure. But… earlier, you said that I’d have my own room… Will I be living with you?” He almost flushes at the idea of it: unmated omega living with an unmated alpha and raising his children? This would be scandalous back in Hawkins, he’s almost positive.

Steve looks surprised that this is Eddie’s main concern. “Well, of course. It would make it far easier on everyone, I think, if you were already living with us. That way your days won’t have to start quite as early, and when I travel - which I do quite a bit - you’ll already be prepared to stay with the children.”

It makes perfect sense when laid out so simply. Eddie nods, satisfied with that explanation for now. His brain catches on another tidbit, and he decides to go ahead and ask. “You said you have twins? Is it just the two of them, or are there others?”

Steve has a conflicted look on his face, pride and sadness all rolled into one as he reaches forward, grabbing a picture frame off his desk and handing it to Eddie. “Yeah, it’s just the two of them.” The picture is cute, the two little girls standing with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera widely. They look quite a bit like Steve, but their hair is curly.

Eddie smiles at the photo, his heart melting a little. “They’re gorgeous. How old are they?” He glances up at Steve, finds him staring at the photograph with an adoring look.

“They’re six. The one on the left is Ivy, and the one on the right is Jasmine. They’re…” Steve shakes his head, a stupid smile on his face. God, Eddie’s heart hurts. “They’re my whole world.”

Smiling vaguely, Eddie gently sets the photograph back on the desk. He hadn’t actually accepted the job yet, but now he knows… This is what he’s been wanting. This semblance of family, the caring alpha… None of it is really his of course, but his-adjacent is just as good.

“I’d love to accept the job,” he says, finally making eye contact with Steve once more.

Steve grins. He looks visibly relieved, the tension melting from his shoulders almost instantly. “Perfect. Could you come Sunday to get settled in? You’ll start officially on Monday, if you can, but I want to go ahead and get you situated.”

Eddie nods. Today is Thursday, so this works out perfectly. He’s been dying to get out of his uncle’s hair anyway. Living with someone who can barely financially support themself has been difficult these last few years, and having that part of his life finally sorted out is a huge weight off his shoulders. He wonders if it’s a noticeable relief, like Steve’s was.

“That sounds good to me,” Eddie says.

Steve nods, standing up, and Eddie follows. “I’ll get Robin your information so she can send you the address and let you know what time to be there.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, holding his hand out for a final shake. Steve smiles as he takes it, and Eddie pretends he doesn’t notice the way their wrists bump together. Not nearly enough contact to scent each other, but the risk of it is a little exciting. That’ll certainly be something Eddie has to get over before Sunday. He can’t be crushing on his new boss, the father of the children he’ll be raising. That’s just a recipe for disaster.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you, Eddie. I’ll see you on Sunday, okay?” Steve gives his hand a pleasant squeeze before letting go, his hand finding its way to Eddie’s back as he gently guides him to the door.

Eddie nods, his leather jacket still clutched in his hands. “Yes sir, see you then.”

Steve’s face still does that same twitch when he hears that, but he nods, sending Eddie off with a smile and a gentle pat on the back. “Bye, Eddie. Drive safe!”

The door shuts between them, and Eddie almost slumps against it in a mixture of relief, frustration, and disbelief.

He got the job.

His life can finally, finally restart.

#steddie #steve harrington and eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #single dad steve harrington #babysitter eddie munson #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #chapter 1 #finally safe for me to fall

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tinjap · 3 months

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Cool people have introduction posts so I shall also make one!

My name is Tinja (pronounced like Tinya)

Here are languages that I can speak with varying degrees: English, Finnish, Swedish, German

My favourite colour is brown, red or orange

The school subjects that I'm best at are: physics, chemistry, maths and art

I'm really into sudokus and similar puzzle games (minesweeper, rubiks cube, nonogram, etc)

My bedroom is circus themed and really cute 🎪

I can write/read morse (I haven't bothered to learn the letters that aren't really used in my language, so I'm not perfect at it)

Okay, that is enough of fun facts about me. Next is things that I like and that is currently Minecraft youtubers, bunch of them, I'm not going to make a list, sorry.

I'm most likely going to only post fanart pictures of mcyt people but I might post something different every other year.

I think Reddit is still going to be my main social media to post doodles to but I think I want to use this also more seriously. That means I should actually use the reblog feature on Tumblr. So to find my own posts more easily I have decided to add the tag "Tinjas post" to all of my own posts. (I don't really know how Tumblr works so I don't really know, can I easily see somewhere my own posts [on mobile phone])

I have the ask thing open so people can send me doodle request or just talk about something. Rules for it are: nothing too weird and only languages that I can understand.

(If someone breaks the rules I will disable it, or do something like that. So be nice)

If someone sees this post and thinks that I should have more fun facts or something else written here, you can tell me :)

Best regards, Tinja

Edit: I have come up with new things that could be good to mention.

My timezone is utc +2/+3 depending on the time of the year.

My preferred pronouns are I don't care, everything is fine. Gendered pronouns don't exist in my language and I don't personally think they are that important when talking about a random person on the internet, who I will never actually meet and know. But if you want to be correct, then she/her, as I'm a girl.

#introduction #trafficblr #hermitblr #Tinjas post

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augustmourn · 6 months

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Twenty Questions for a Fic Writer

Tagged by @hearthouses and @ladyculebras!

How many works do you have on ao3?

162.

What's your total ao3 word count?

557,449 words.

What fandoms do you write for?

I tend to bounce from fandom to fandom and don't generally return to older ones, so the fandoms I've written for in the past I may not write much or at all in the future. I've written the most works for IT Movies, followed by Star Wars, but more recently I've been writing for The Locked Tomb and Danganronpa. All for the Game is probably my longest-standing fandom I can easily dip back into. I also have a bunch of other fandoms I've tried out writing once or twice for exchanges.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unexpected - 1,192 kudos. Bojack Horseman, Bojack/Mr. Peanutbutter. Fake dating/accidental marriage. For a long time it was the most kudosed fic in the fandom but has now been surpassed by a couple of megacrossovers. I'm pretty proud of this one--I love any fic where I get to stretch my comedy muscles and I've been told it does pretty well at hitting the canon tone.

you know what they say about assumptions - 865 kudos. Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Anakin/Padme/Obi-Wan. Modern AU. Maybe the only modern AU I've ever written? I think it's just had a long time to compile kudos.

Into the Dark - 716 kudos. IT Movies, Richie/Eddie. Time loop.

The Kids Are Alright - 670 kudos. IT Movies, Richie/Eddie. Teen years getting together fic, the only explicit rated fic on this list.

Lights Will Guide You Home - 632 kudos. Star Wars, attempt at plot, eternally unfinished WIP that I started when I was sixteen. I do sometimes think about orphaning it.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to. I try to. But I ended up with a backlog that I can never get through and now I mostly just go in bursts and respond to everything on a couple recent fics and leave it at that.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This feels hard to determine! I've written a lot of stories and it's hard to remember all of them, lol. I'm excluding noncon because that's too easy. Scorp's suggestion for this one was quiet birds in circled flight, which is an IT fic where Richie commits suicide. the kind of love (i've been dreaming of) is a Raven Cycle resurrected-and-came-back-wrong fic. an eye for an eye is an All For The Game gore fic where Neil gets his eye taken out and everything is terrible.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Unexpected is an accidental-marriage-turns-real fic that is pretty fluffy. real love is a heart attack is an arranged-marriage-turns-sexy fic. Maybe that's a theme. (Realizing as I go through my fics that I rarely write endings that are really nice or really bad. Usually somewhere in the middle.)

Do you get hate on fics?

I wrote a werewolf porn fic where some people got really mad about the wolf sex in the comments. Other than that, just some unrequested concrit a couple of times.

Do you write smut?

All the time. My nano story from last month ending up gen was the biggest shock of my life.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Never have, and I don't know if I ever will. They just don't really appeal to me for some reason.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think it happened in IT fandom, but by the time I went to look into it it was gone already.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! One of my All for the Game fics was translated into Russian.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Never done it. If I did so, I'd definitely want to ask someone who speaks the language to look it over for me.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I'm too much of a control freak and also slightly uncertain how it would work.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Whatever I'm currently obsessed with eclipses everything, so I don't know if I have all-timers, but Neil/Riko from All for the Game eats my brain all the time.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Anything from prior fandoms, really. But I can't think of any examples right now. I have a million little bits and pieces floating around in my google drive, but I'm not really thinking about them anymore.

What are your writing strengths?

I love writing smut. Apparently I'm good at dialogue, although I find it painful a lot of the time. When I try for comedy, it tends to land. And I love writing horror and I'm always delighted when people tell me I've genuinely disturbed them, lol.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm terrible at plot. It's really hard for me to think of things to happen, which seems like an insane problem for a writer to have, but it's true. And I'm not great at doing any kind of heavy editing. 80% of what I type the first time stays on the page.

First fandom you wrote for?

Hunger Games, when I was 11/12.

Favorite fic you've written?

Oh, man, I think I have a recency bias, but Crashing is definitely the fic I'm proudest of. It's 72k and almost five times as long as the previous longest story I'd ever finished. It was a huge accomplishment and I'm still so happy I did it.

Tagging anyone who wants to do it!

#talking to myself #meme #writing

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