#sorry to those people sure you're all fine people aside from this

[mimisempai]

I wasn't expecting you 2/4

Chapter Summary - Radiant

Meeting the new barista who works at Nina's, Aziraphale realizes that the Whickber Street gossip was far from accurate. The newcomer is absolutely gorgeous, and Aziraphale forgets all his resolutions about relationships in the face of beautiful golden eyes.

Notes

Aziraphale POV of their first meeting

On Ao3

Rating G -  1702 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 

"Well? How would it look if you were gone for a month!"

Aziraphale had just brought the last box of books into the shop and set it on the floor before turning to Muriel, who had just entered.

He rubbed his hands together and replied, "I must say this trip has been quite satisfying," he looked at the various boxes around him and added, "But it also means a lot of work for the days ahead."

Muriel came in and, after putting their things in a corner, replied, rolling up their sleeves, "But you're not doing it alone, so you'll be fine."

They winked at him and grabbed the first box in front of them before heading to the back of the store.

Aziraphale watched them walk away, thinking that his young friend and now colleague was a godsend. They had a cheerful disposition, despite what life had thrown at them, and Aziraphale found them to be the ideal working partner.

They worked in harmony most of the morning, and after emptying a third box, Aziraphale said to Muriel, "I'm going over to Maggie's to bring her the records I've collected, and on the way back I'm going to stop at the coffee shop! Do you want anything?"

Muriel replied loudly from the back of the store, "A hot chocolate!"

Aziraphale put on his jacket and was about to leave the bookstore when Muriel, who had come up beside him, said, "By the way, Aziraphale, I heard that Nina finally found someone to work with her, and that he lives upstairs from the coffee shop. I haven't met him yet, but everyone else says he's great. Maybe you'll get to meet him."

Aziraphale chuckled, knowing what that meant to his nosy friend, and replied, "Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it when I get back."

"I'm counting on it."

The bookseller chuckled again, for it was so funny how Muriel had quickly learned that gossip was a religion on Whickber Street.

He then left the shop and walked up the street towards Maggie's. However, he hadn't taken ten steps when he was stopped by Mr. Brown, who waved his arms as he approached at a brisk pace. The bookseller braced himself for the first wave of fresh gossip.

"Ah, Aziraphale, you're back!"

The carpet seller leaned toward him and said in a low voice, "There's a newcomer at Nina's. He's quite friendly, but that hair color and those eyes, it's still a bit fishy. You'd better watch out."

Aziraphale smirked and pointed to himself, "If we were to judge people by their appearance on this street, we'd never end." 

Then he showed the records in his hands and added, "Sorry, I'm expected. Have a nice day."

Then, without another thought for the other man, he walked the last few feet to Maggie's shop and entered. Maggie wasn't expecting him, but the excuse had been perfect to cut short the carpet seller's incessant, idle chatter. 

Maggie came over to him, her usual broad smile on her lips, and exclaimed with bright eyes, "Aziraphale, what a pleasure to have you back!" she pointed to the records in the bookseller's hands and continued, "I see you've got some things for me!"

Aziraphale placed the records he'd brought on the counter and watched in amusement as Maggie raved about each one. Then she put them aside in a neat pile and leaned against the counter, saying to him with a conspiratorial expression, "I'm sure you already know that Nina has a new employee."

Aziraphal simply said, "I just met our dear carpet seller."

Maggie chuckled and replied, "I can already imagine what he told you.

"He seemed quite disturbed by the newcomer's hair and eyes."

Maggie rolled her eyes and muttered, "What an idiot. Don't listen to him. Nina is very happy with her new barista and you know how difficult she can be. As for me, I've only met him twice and he's made a good impression on me as well. He seemed a little surprised by the reception he received, I hear he's traveled a lot and it hasn't always been easy for him. Anyway, since your next stop is probably the coffee shop, you'll see for yourself. And who knows..."

She raised her eyebrows suggestively and Aziraphale exclaimed, "Maggie!"

She shrugged and replied, "What? You never know. If you hadn't pushed me to offer Nina some music for her coffee shop, I never would have had the courage to talk to her, so who knows, maybe you'll find your happiness in the coffee shop, too."

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled, amused by his friend's flowery romanticism. He'd long since given up hoping for anything in the way of a love life. Those who didn't find him weird just wanted a one-night stand and weren't interested in knowing more about him, and Aziraphale was no longer inclined to such empty relationships.

Leaving these dark thoughts aside, he chatted with Maggie for a while before heading to the Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death.

Luckily, he didn't meet anyone and didn't have to hear any more about the new addition to the coffee shop. Anyway, a few more meters and he'd see for himself.

As soon as he stepped through the door, Nina greeted him and called out, "Aziraphale! You're back!"

Smiling at the cafe owner's enthusiasm, he replied softly, "Good morning, Nina."

His gaze was immediately drawn to the man next to Nina, who turned to him. If the carpet seller had been at his side, Aziraphale would have asked him if he was crazy. Whether it was the hair or the eyes of Nina's new employee, he was absolutely gorgeous. 

Aziraphale had never seen anything like him. The barista had medium-length red hair tied loosely around his neck and amber eyes, and the only words that came to the bookseller's mind were "warm" and "luminous".

Nina pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Good timing, it's Crowley who'll be taking your order.”

She nudged Crowley with her shoulder, took the dishtowel from his hand and added, “There's no better way to learn the ropes.”

Aziraphale mentally thanked her before noticing the slightly surprised expression that quickly crossed the new barista's face and held out his hand with a smile, "Hello, I'm Aziraphale, the owner of the bookshop across the street. Welcome."

The other man shook his hand and replied, "Crowley, new barista. Nice to meet you."

It was then that Aziraphale realized there was something Mr. Brown and Maggie had forgotten to tell him about the newcomer.

How could they forget to tell him about his smile?

Radiant.

The barista snapped him out of his reverie.

"What can I get you?"

Aziraphale replied immediately, "Two Eccles cakes and a hot chocolate."

"Very well, I'll serve them right away."

Aziraphale followed him with his eyes, thinking the back looked as delicious as the front, when Nina said, "Oh, a hot chocolate? Am I to understand that Muriel is here too?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale saw Nina lean toward Crowley and she said in his ear with a mocking expression, "Muriel is his assistant at the bookshop, if they weren't there he wouldn't be selling anything and the shop would be open at all hours.”

Aziraphale, offended and embarrassed, exclaimed, "Nina!"

As Crowley placed his order on the counter, Aziraphale leaned over and said rather loudly, "Don't pay any attention to what Nina says. I don't want you to think I'm lazy."

Crowley replied, another gorgeous smile on his lips, "I never rely on hearsay to form an opinion about people, so I'll wait until I get to know you better to form my own opinion."

Then he winked at him, and Aziraphale suddenly forgot all his resolutions about relationships and replied almost immediately, “So am I, which is why I look forward to the opportunity to learn more about you.”

At that moment something passed between them, fleeting, but Aziraphale was sure it was there and saw that the other man had sensed it too, but they didn't have time to dwell on it because Nina told them, "Well, that will be possible sooner than you think, my friends."

He saw that the barista looked as confused as he was as Nina continued, "I suggest we all meet tonight at the Dirty Donkey. It will be an opportunity for Crowley to get to know the shopkeepers of Whickber Street better and for us to celebrate Aziraphale's return."

Aziraphale, who hated being the center of attention, exclaimed, "But I've only been gone a week!"

Nina replied, "Aziraphale, you know that any reason is a good reason to have a drink together. So you'll both be joining us?"

Aziraphale saw the other man nod as he replied, " will be there. However, I believe Muriel is spending the evening with their partner, Eric."

Then he turned to Crowley, basking for a split second in the beauty of the barista's golden eyes, and added softly, "See you tonight, Crowley."

"See you tonight. Have a nice day until then."

Aziraphale nodded and headed for the front door with his order. He thought he could feel the barista's eyes following him and had to stop himself from turning to look at him one last time.

When he entered the bookshop and saw that Muriel wasn't in the main room, he went to the back room where he heard them humming. As he passed through the door, they turned to him and immediately grabbed the hot chocolate greedily before asking, "So, how is he?"

But Aziraphale, suddenly transfixed, looked at the wall behind Muriel and said, "Same color as his eyes."

"What?"

Aziraphale pulled himself together and replied, "He's... interesting."

"Is that all?"

"He's rather pleasing to the eye."

"Aaaaand?"

"Nothing."

He saw from Muriel's expression that he was absolutely transparent, but they were too tactful to say anything and knew when to stop. 

They just nodded, and the discussion turned to the books Aziraphale had brought back.

But as they chatted happily over the Eccles cakes, Aziraphale's thoughts couldn't help but drift to the handsome barista with the golden eyes, and he told himself that evening couldn't come soon enough.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe #Coffee shop AU

[elletheactualmenace]

You Would do That for Me? - Pt. 4

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Its finally Friday and Peter isn’t expecting what happens at your house.

Warnings: Mentions of physical assault (not in this chapter), Slight verbal bullying, swearing, suggestive (just a bit)

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: Hello! Sorry this took so long, life has been crazy. I hope you like this part! Its getting exiting and the next part should be, if i write it correctly, more exciting. Enjoy!!

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

After everything that happened during first period, Peter puts aside his work during his study hall to wrap his head around it. There is no way that what happened actually happened. Peter is stunned but finds it all hilarious at the same time. 

“What does this mean for us?” He thought. “Or maybe I’m looking too deeply into this…” Peter doesn’t want to admit how you defending him warms his heart and sends butterflies swarming in his stomach. He admires how you could be so brave, so bold without a mask. Without his mask he doubts he could do half the things he does as Spiderman. Not that you knew he was Spiderman, oh no. You don’t know, and he plans on it staying that way, at least for as long as he can.

He can’t imagine what would happen if you found out. What if- what if you got hurt, or- or die- No. He can’t think like that. You’re safe, everyone is safe. Besides, if you do find out, in some miraculous way, he assumes you’ll be pissed he didn’t tell you, but the whole hero thing won’t be new to you. For now, he pushes those “what ifs” out of his brain.

“I still can’t believe she said all that to defend me.” Peter thinks blushing with a giddy heart warmed smile. “God, she’s amazing.” 

He's astounded that anyone would do something like that for him. Sure, MJ and Ned did it too, but not in the way you defend him. He feels bad for feeling like this, but he just feels like there from different places, and they mean different things. Like you feel the need to defend him.

Peter doesn’t know if this should or will shift something in your relationship with him. But if something were to shift, he wants it to be for better, not in an awkward way. He wants this “relationship” to be just as healthy as a real one.

“For now, I guess, I’ll wait for her to talk about what happened. And when we do talk, I can say that this is what we both wanted. I can reassure both of us. It’ll be fine.” Peter concludes, just as the bell rings. He stands from his desk and heads over to the doors.

As he walks out of the class, he can feel all eyes on him. It messes with his senses and leaves him on edge. He just keeps walking. Even when he hears people whisper his name and yours and then some curse of astonishment. His hands tighten into fists as he holds onto the straps of his school bag. 

He feels a person walking up next to him silently and before he looks he can tell it’s you. Maybe it’s your perfume, or maybe it's just that happy feeling he gets in his heart when you're close.

He glances over to you and a small smile graces his lips. You both walk in silence. That is until Peter, with his enhanced hearing, overhears someone say something about Peter and you. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from curling into a ball in the middle of the hallway.

“Peter?” You ask and he whips his head to listen to you. “I just wanted to apologize about what I said in our first period.” 

“Oh.” Peter thinks, relieved that this conversation didn’t have to wait too long. He decides to lighten your anxious mood, and makes a stupid joke.

“What? That you think Luke Skywalker is lame? Because, really Y/n it doesn’t bother me as much as I led on.” Peter says with a smile. You smile at his comment.

“No, I mean with Flash. I realize we should have talked about it before I told him, because now everyone knows." You utter quietly. Peter hums, thinking of how to respond in a way that shows you he doesn’t mind but also doesn’t show you that he thought what you said and did was incredible and brave and amazing and-

“And also all the other stuff I said when he was there." You add on quickly. Peter stays quiet, still contemplating what to say. Finally, he comes up with a good response.

"It's fine Y/n. Honestly it was really cool of you to do that for me." Peter is surprised at how cool and calm he sounds, because on the inside he’s got butterflies invading every corner of his stomach.

“Really?” You ask a little surprised.

"Yeah, and I mean, this is what we wanted right? Everyone to know?" He tries, repeating what he’s been telling himself all day. 

A thought passes over him like a wave slapping him in the face. “Ask her about the thing,” he thinks to himself. “Now is the perfect time.” He reasons, as he gathers up the courage to ask you.

"On that thought, I can't remember, umm, how do I say this?" Suddenly his tone switches to one of seriousness.

"You know how you are helping me with Flash?" Peter whispers so no one in the hallway will hear him. His brows furrow as his face fills with concern.

"Well, I feel like a real ass for not remembering, but what exactly am I trying to help-" 

The ringing of the bell cuts him off, annoyingly. He watches as you pull your phone out quickly checking the screen. And you give him an apologetic smile.

"Can we talk later? I have a history test to get to." You say, and he can tell you don’t want to leave. He knows you feel bad. But he also understands how important tests are and sighs sadly.

"Oh, umm yeah, of course." Peter mumbles out, he’s annoyed and a little disappointed but gets it.

"See you later." He says you both walk to your classrooms. He’ll just have to ask you about it later. But soon. He promises himself. Just in case he’s helping you with something bigger than what you're helping him with. That’s what scares him. But as he continues walking he tries to reassure himself.

”oh, good luck!” Peter awkwardly calls after you. People eye him with second hand embarrassment. He rubs the back of his neck, sighing

“Look, it's the smartass’s new boyfriend, penis Parker.” Peter hears someone whisper and then giggles follow. He dips his head, trying to sink into the floor. God, he hates how mean people are. He doesn’t care about himself, he's used to the dumbass nicknames. But for someone to make fun of you makes his blood boil. You’re too kind and- and pretty to be made fun of. He doesn’t understand. 

Peter wills himself to let it go as he walks to his next class.

——

He really can’t believe how well he handled that conversation. He guesses that taking time out of study helped. But, when he tries to ask you the question again, you have another thing to get to. Peter tries not to dwell on it too much, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

When Peter gets on the subway, Ned starts up a conversation in the group chat with MJ, you, and him. After it's done, all he gets out of it is that you’re all going to be watching a horror movie, and that well, as MJ puts it, he can cuddle up with you when he's scared. He blushes so uncomfortably on the subway, his heart beating super fast, he swears other people can hear it, but he makes sure to play it off cool.

Peter eventually makes his way to his usual alley. There he changes into his Spiderman suit. Peter quickly webs his backpack to the brick wall of the alleyway. He’s learned from past experiences to try his best to get it higher up so it has a smaller chance of getting stolen. Aunt May talks his ear off every time he tells her he needs a new one, Spiderman activities, or not.

When his backpack is secure and his suit is on right he smiles. Peter shoots a web up to the top of the building and propels himself up. When he gets to the roof of the building he sighs, contently. 

Being Spiderman makes Peter feel worth something. It feels good helping others. That's why he wants to help you. Or find out what you need help with. He cares about you, not just as a friend, not just as a crush, but as a person. I mean, how could he not care about you? You're perfect in his eyes. You’re smart, you're funny, you're witty, you stand your ground, you're pretty and you have a kind heart. He can’t even imagine a more perfect human being. And even better, you tolerate his shit.

He can’t believe that he’s in this situation with you, it makes his head spin. It makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. It makes him smile like a schoolgirl. It's honestly embarrassing to blush as much as he does around you. He wonders what you’re doing. He always does, really.

Peter looks out at the city from his high stoop on the edge of the building. He watches the people pass, he watches lives being lived. These are his people, the people he’s promised to protect. 

During his patrol, Peter manages to stop a couple muggers, petty thieves and help a mother unload her groceries. Usually the ‘big bad guys’ come out later, when the night sky can hide their crimes, as Peter sees it.

Peter swings all over Manhattan, by the end of his rounds around the city he feels his body flood with exhaustion. He sigh in slight annoyance, the nuisance of having to deal with grumpy New Yorkers all day will leave a sour taste in anyone's mouth.

When Peter lands in the same alley he was in just a couple hours early he finds his backpack still webbed to the brick wall. He climbs up the wall, unwebs his bag, and jumps to the ground. He quickly changes out of his outfit and into his clothes from earlier. The awkwardness of being in his boxers in the middle of a New York alley has begun to dull out. After a homeless man saw, laughed, and then whistled a mock, and walked away, Peter was pretty immune to the flush of his cheeks.

Peter wings his bag onto his shoulder and saunters out of the alley, his headphones secure in his ears. He shuffles the songs in his playlist, and the song lands on one that reminds him of you. His lips quirk up. He’s not so annoyed anymore.

That is until he remembers the hours of homework he's walking home to. 

——

The next day of school goes by with no hitches. Aside from the occasional odd look from passersby in the hallway. You and Peter manage to keep up your cover, undisturbed by Flash. But when Peter walked by Flash during first period, Flash immediately turned away in embarrassment. Peter smiled at the fact Flash was too shy to look Peter in the eyes.

Along with that, in every class you had with Peter, he felt your eyes on him. He tried to ignore it, assuming you’re lost in thought about more ways to make the relationship believable. He didn't want to jump to conclusions. Conclusions like: You were staring at him because you might actually have feelings for him that run deeper than just friends. But again, he had to stop himself from thinking like that. Because you couldn’t like him like that. Right?

It's Friday so, todays the day. Movies night at your house. Peter's eyes were drawn to the clock in every class he sat in. He couldn’t stop the bouncing of his foot, waiting for the final bell to ring. And then to meet you with you and both of your friends outside the building. You told them that Happy was going to pick you all up and drive you to your house.

When the final bell rings, Peter jumps out of his seat. He almost trips over the sluggishly moving people in front of him. But Peter swiftly maneuvers through the crowd of tired teenages and to his locker to collect his things.

Moving quickly, Peter stuffs his books into his bag before zipping to the doors of the school. He finds you and MJ already standing there talking. Peter dashes over, slightly out of breath.

”Hey,” He says as he waves to both you and MJ.

”What's up with you?” MJ asks, “did you just come from gym?” She asks as she chuckles. You smile too, and Peter finds his eyes drawn to you, longer than anyone normally should look at someone. But you don’t seem to mind, too lost in your own thoughts.

MJ sure notices both of you staring breathlessly at each other. She just scoffs playfully and shakes her head with a laugh. 

“You two are too much,” She huffs out. “Get a room!” She says as she shoves you. 

“What?” You ask as you turn to the sound of her voice, seemingly snapping out of your thoughts. And along with you Peter. 

“Save that for later at the house, love birds.” MJ adds as she snaps her fingers in front of you and Peter's faces, making sure she's snapped you both out of your little trances. 

“S-sorry,” Peter says as he blushes. He can’t believe she said that out loud, and with such ease. MJ just rolls her eyes.

Ned eventually joins us and soon after Happy pulls up to the front of the school. You call everyone over.

”Oh, look, Happy’s here.” You comment as you trudge over. “Sit wherever, just no shotgun, Happy hates that.” You chuckle as you pull open the door for everyone to get in.

Ned gasps as he hops in. There's two rows of seats facing each other in the back of the car. MJs eyes widen, impressed, as she follows Ned in the car.

“Damn Y/n,” Ned starts, “Sometimes I forget you're rich.” He says as he runs his hands over the leather seating. You smile awkwardly and you and Peter climb in. 

“Yeah, me too.” You comment quietly as you pull your seatbelt on.

”Hey kids, you better not make a mess back there” Happy scolds you all, making himself known as he pulls out of the school.

”Hey Happs.” Peter calls with a small smile. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Happy asks as he rolls his eyes. He then closes the divider between the back and the front of the car.

”Wait, you know Happy?” You ask, turning to Peter. You look really confused. He stutters for a second. You can’t find out that he's Spiderman. He won’t let you. He promised himself he wouldn’t. Especially with MJ in the car, she doesn’t know either. Oh god, what does he say? He just stares at you unsure. What does he say?

“He works for your dad as an intern, remember?” Ned chimes in. Peter swears he's a god sent. How did he forget about that? During freshman year it was basically his entire personality. Ned glances at him, letting him know he has Peters back. Peter lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding back.

”Right, that.” He says quietly looking at Ned.

”Oh shit, yeah, sorry I forgot.” You apologize, giving Peter a small smile, which he returns. 

“How could you Y/n? It's where he gets his bragging rights.” MJ says as she rolls her eyes.

”That is, after you,” Peter adds on. “After all, if anyone should get bragging rights it should be the daughter of Tony Stark, not his intern.”

“Please, my dad does all the bragging for me.” You joke with a smirk and shake your head. Everyone laughs with you. Peter can’t believe you looked past his hesitation after the question you asked. He's just glad Ned was there to save the day.

Happy pulls up to the house in upstate New York and you can hear Ned, once again gasping. Ned practically presses his face against the glass. 

“God, you live so far.” MJ says as she pushes open the door.

“I know,” You breathe out. “Sometimes I wish we had stayed in the Avengers tower.”

“That would be sick.” Ned grins from ear to ear. You all shuffle out of the car.

“Bye, Happy, thanks for the ride.” You wave to him through the glass. Everyone echos with their own version of your words. Peter waves to Happy and Happy waves back before driving off once again to park the car somewhere.

”How long was that drive?” Peter asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder. 

“Forty minutes,” You answer. “with traffic.” You add as you stride over to one of the many doors. 

“I would die.” MJ comments as she follows after you. Peter laughs, he can’t imagine going on that drive twice every day. You must do homework on the way home with that much time on your hands.

“Believe me, when I wake up every morning, I want to.” You groan as you put in a code and open the door. Everyone follows you as you walk. 

“She knows this place like the back of her hand,” Peter thinks in utter disbelief that you knows the layout of this mansion. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised because you live here, but still, it’s impressive.

You guide them all to the kitchen. There you plop down your bag on one of the counter stools. Peter suspects that this isn’t the only kitchen in the house.

“uh, this is my familys kitchen, only my family uses it, sometimes the Avengers. You can put your stuff down.” You say with a smile. Your three friends take a seat.

“So, let me explain a bit about the set up.” You offer as you walk to the other side of the island and lean against it, facing them. 

“We have a house house section of this building, and then an Avenger section.” You explain. “So on this side of the building it's more homey and you know, like a house.” You say gesturing to the homey kitchen.

“Should we take our shoes off?” Ned asks. You chuckle. “You can do whatever. We usually do, but you can keep them on if you want.” 

“Where should we put them?” MJ asks, and you point to a closet near the entrance of the spacious kitchen. You walk over and slide off your shoes before placing them on one of the shoe racks.

”Fancy,” Peter smirks at you and you blush slightly and nod. Peter sees you blush and he can’t help but blush too. 

——

Eventually you all make your way to the theater room that you somehow just have in your house. You all gather round in comfy seats with snacks from the snack cart and blankets. Peter, MJ, and Ned are astounded at your wealth. 

MJ scrolls through the movies. You and Peter sit next to each other on a two person couch, while MJ and Ned sit together on another two person couch. MJ had insisted that you and Peter sit together. She reasoned, Peter would get scared and need his girlfriend to comfort him. You rolled your eyes, while Peter blushed furiously. 

“So, how about The Sixth Sense? It's a classic.” MJ asks. You nod and look at Ned and Peter.

“I'm chill with that.” You note. Ned sighs loudly. You can practically feel MJ roll her eyes.

“Fine. As long as I can see your dads lab, Y/n.” Ned says pointing his finger at you.

“Promise is a promise.” You confirm, lifting your hands up in surrender.

“Okay, start it.” Peter says and MJ does. The music begins to rumble softly through the speakers in the room. It flows around you all, drawing you in. The screen flickers to life as the movie rolls.

As the opening scene plays Peter can feel your hand resting awfully close to his. The heat radiating from your skin hits his skin. Peter has trouble paying attention, his breath gets caught in his throat. And he's starting to notice a pattern of that when he's around you.

He can feel you shuffle closer to him. His body stiffens and he glances over at you. He makes sure only to move his eyes, not his head. He doesn’t know what to think of it when you move so your thigh is pressed against his. He doesn't want to assume it's something that it’s not, but, what else would it be? He asks himself. He runs through all the possibilities. And his conclusion is that you want this. You want him close. So he obliges, hoping his suspicions are correct.

As you move closer once again, your eyes still on the large screen, he moves his arms to wrap around your waist to pull you close. He feels you tense. And immediately he pulls away. Embarrassment and shame flowing through his veins.

But then, as if out of a book, you grasp his hands, and pull them back. He lets out a small breath. “She wants this? She really wants this?” Peter thinks with a relieved and thrilled smile.

You pull his arm back around you, to snake around your waist. You push your back into his chest slightly, at least as best you can while sitting next to him. You lean your head against his shoulder. Peter's heart drums through his chest as fast as it does while fighting crime. Almost faster.

Peter moves to nuzzle his head against yours. He sighs in euphoria. This is all he's ever wanted. Maybe it's not a kiss, but in some ways this is better. Holding each other close in a dark room is so intimate.

 Peter closes his eyes, trying to savor the moment. He feels your hands graze over his that are wrapped around you. He moves one of his hands to intertwine with yours and the soft contact of your skin against his makes his heart skip a beat. His other hand sits securely around you. You let your body relax against his and Peter swears he’s dreaming.

You both just sit there. Both of you two focused on the close proximity to pay attention to the movie. Eventually though, your eyes slowly fall shut, and Peter can hear your breathing slow and soft snores leave you. He smiles, pulling you closer and glancing down at you. With all of his being, Peter hopes that the feeling in his heart, that this is too real to be you both faking your relationship, is not just a feeling in his heart.

Tag list:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@sunnyx07

@hollandweather

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

#x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #mcu spiderman #spiderman x reader

[liinos]

i always feel bad whenever i can't stand someone bc of their voice bc like unless you're putting it on you can't change but some people just piss me off when i hear them sorry 😭

#like i'll be real i don't like high-pitched whiny voices At All but other than that i dont even know why some voices make me so :| #like is it tone? pitch? cadence? idk but there's Smth... like sometimes i can pinpoint it but there were two people in my freshman english #class who i could not STAND when they spoke like theyd literally just answer a question and they'd be on my nerves #and i'm sure they were perfectly nice people outside of that (tho the guy have a super condescending way of talking but i think that was #just how he talked rip) and i literally did not know them so i didn't even have a character judgment reason to dislike them #it was just hearing them talk😭 lowkey the girl sounded like a girl i went to hs with who i was friendly with so if anything i think that #should have made it not so bad but all it did was make me realize the other girls voice annoyed me too 🚶‍♀️ #sorry to those people sure you're all fine people aside from this #but like that actress was on the qcyn season i watched for some reason i cannot remember (not her season) and whenever she spoke #it annoyed me so much like girl shut UP 😭 she wasn't even doing anything like she wasnt a mentor i do not get why she was there

[d6volution]

jax teasing reader under the table while everyone else is ‘eating’ their digital dinner.. and reader getting revenge on jax later…

please and thank you <33🙏

i love your username 😆 , this was on the shorter side but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

The Banquet.

Jax/Fem!Reader

tags: fingering, public sex, biting.

minors dni.

"Y/N.. a-are you alright..?"  Gangle who sat directly next to you at the long dinner table seemed worried, their sad mask making that painfully obvious. You squirmed a little, nodding your head and clearing your throat. "O.. Of course, Gangle why do you.. ask!" your voice hitched and broke at the end of your sentence. You were clearly far from okay.

Gangle felt guilty for asking, maybe you were just nervous..? She sure was on her first few dinners, "Right.. sorry, y/n.." You shook your head, elbow resting on the table. No digging into the table as you tried to find some sense of balance. "It's,  f.. fine gangle..!" You reassured the sad little bundle of ribbons.

Your leg attempted to kick the disturbance beneath the table, but Jax was quick to catch your leg and instead using this advantage to spread them further. 'Heh, you're just makin this too easy, y/n.' He thought to himself. A gloved hand stroked your inner thigh, the other keeping it pried open. His fingertips got closer to the heat in between your legs and tried to keep your compsure.

Jax was sat with his legs crossed beneath the table, his ears just rubbing against the table due to his height. He pushed your undergarments aside , finger prodding at your wet slit before dipping a finger inside. His grin wide with delight.

You slapped your hand over your mouth , stifling a yelp. You desperately wanted to close your legs but his grip on your thigh was vice. He tutted in his head as if to silently scold you. Move again and he'd have no choice but to bite you. Oh, too bad you couldn't hear his threat. Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way.

His finger kept pumping in and out of your cunt slowly, your hips bucked forward. "Hhn.." You hummed in pleasure, pretending it was because of the 'delicious' food. Shooting a nervous, half smile at Zooble who eyed you curiously. If anyone knew, it was them. They couldn't tell what exactly was going on but was sure the only person who could be behind this was the one person who wasn't at the table. Jax.

Another finger was added and you gasped, attempting to hide it with a cough. Jax found this hilarious and had to stifle his laughter, using this chance to suddenly pump those two fingers into your cunt even faster. Causing your legs to shake and try to close around his hand again.

Nope.

His mouth opened, sharp rows of teeth being bared just before he chomped at your inner thigh, leaving bright red teeth marks that just nearly broke the skin. This sent a shudder through your spine, the mix of pain and pleasure pushing you even closer to climax. Being in such a vulnerable situation, surrounded by many questioning eyes.. it wasn't fair.. you'd have to get him back by this.

"Ghn.." You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your hardest to have to the quietest orgasm of your life. But the way he was digging into your cunt , purposely curling his fingers it made it all too hard. Your hand reached down and grabbed his hand but in turn he grabbed yours , fingers digging in your forearm to keep you still as a violent orgasm wracked through your body.

You bit your lip nearly making it bleed as you came, hunched over the table. A few people had already vacated , only Kinger and Gangle were left at the table. Kinger completely unaware and Gangle still worried.

"I.. I need to be excused..!" You said, your voice a little horse. Jax removed his fingers from your cunt unceremoniously and wiped his fingers on your inner thigh. Sitting back and admiring his work.

He saw you stand up quickly, your legs almost giving out as the chair scooted back with an ungodly screech.

You hurried back to your room, glaring at Jax's in the process. You knew he had to wait for everyone to leave the table before he could even think about coming to his room.

Hurriedly you cleaned yourself up, face still flushed and heart still racing from that little incident.

You heard a little knock on your door and swung it open immediately, or course it was Jax. Standing there with a smug look on his face. Your hand curled around one of his overall straps and yanked him inside. The door slamming afterwards.

"No need to get violent doll, seems like you enjoyed yourself out there. Am I wrong? Or was I just hallucinating your pretty cunt clenching around my fingers?"

"Sh.. Shut up!" You pushed him onto the bed and he laid back, arms crossed behind his head carelessly. "Why? What ya gonna do, suck me off til I have a heart attack?"

"Nope. I'm not touching you at all."

He sat up, "What? C'mon don't be like that doll," You tried to hide your grin, giving him a faux cold shoulder so he couldn't make out your expression.

"Maybe.. if you get on your knees and say please then I'll return the favor. How about that?" You said, finally revealing your face to him. A sly smile playing on your lips.

"Not happening." He said in a flat tone.

"Well then I hope you like being blue balled my little bunny." You said with a smile and got up from the bed but he grabbed your wrist before you could. His face was downcast at the floor, hiding the very subtle flush on his cheeks.

. . . . .

Kinger swung open your door without thinking , "JAX! We have a problem I—" Kinger stood in shock, staring at Jax on his knees pleading to you and you sitting on the bed with your legs crossed staring down at him. Jax face palmed, of course. Of course someone had to interrupt.

"I.. see, perhaps I should come back later.." He slowly shut the door.

#the amazing digital circus #ask #jax tadc #jax x reader #minors dni #jaxsmut

[diagonal-queen]

Concept: Chuuya being the one who recruits you into the mafia and he gives you his choker when you join

Welcome Gift

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!reader

♡ synopsis: "It's tradition in the Port Mafia that the person who recruits a new member is responsible for their wellbeing. To symbolise that, they hand down one of their belongings."

♡ wc: 1.25k

♡ cw: Swearing, and I made Chuuya and reader friends before reader joined the Mafia, hope that's okay ❤︎

note: You can't possibly expect me to see a prompt like this and NOT write it. Thanks anon ♡︵(ゝ。∂) sorry it took so long and apologies for spelling/grammar errors

To be honest, you assumed that your official induction to the Port Mafia would contain a plethora of trials and tribulations to determine your strength, resolve, and perhaps the darker aspects of your character. You'd had the idea that you might be asked to prove loyalty by committing a crime, whether that be killing someone or something equally heinous.

No. Absolutely none of that happened.

Apparently, when you're friends with a mafia executive, it's as simple as just asking them to work there. Such was your case, at least, being close with the infamous Port Mafia executive Chuuya Nakahara. 'Close', in theory, was supposed to be code for 'in a relationship', but the 'friends' aspect was certainly throwing a wrench into that plan. Perhaps by joining the mafia you could get closer to Chuuya? You always knew how important to him his work was.

To your luck, Chuuya was happy to take you in as one of his subordinates and act as your guide to organised crime. You'd initially wondered how he would be testing you to see if you were a good fit for the occupation, but that time never came. Instead, you were called and asked to meet with him to go over a few basic rules so he wouldn't 'find your ass in a dumpster on day one'. Those were his words, and you had initially scoffed at them.

"How do I get other people to respect me? I don't think I'm that scary," you asked. This was not the first question but rather one of many you'd been asking Chuuya during your slow evening wander around what you supposed was the wide expanse of the Port Mafia's turf. The size of the area you'd travelled so far led you to believe that perhaps you may have been biting off more than you could chew with this new job. Clearly, the Port Mafia didn't fuck around.

"Well, you're a mafia underling now, but more importantly you're my subordinate. People who know me are gonna respect the people I recruit. In fact, you'll probably eventually have troops of your own."

"Ooh, like henchmen?" You asked.

"No- this is the actual mafia, not a Saturday morning cartoon," he shook his head. "Listen. Being part of the Port Mafia is serious business. I know you're not stupid, but just try not to be too...friendly with people you don't know."

At that point you weren't really sure if there actually was anyone you didn't know in the Mafia. Of course, you'd never known anyone in real life aside from Chuuya, but he'd already gone through all the important ones. The other executives, Akutagawa, the Black Lizard, and even the boss himself whom you were still quite terrified of meeting.

"I'm gonna be fine. It's not like I won't have you to protect me anymore," you grinned, nudging his arm. He didn't return the smile. "Don't worry about me, Chuuya! I'm gonna be alright."

"You're too optimistic, Y/N," replied Chuuya who continued his stroll. You quickly shuffled to catch up with him.

"I'll do my best. I promise." You told him firmly. He let out a sigh. You continued to walk alongside the mafioso quietly, wondering what exactly was going through his head. You had thought that you were the only one who had your concerns with this job, as much as you tried to conceal them. Did he really care about you so much that he'd worry like that?

"Oh, right, I almost forgot about this." Chuuya stopped and turned to face you. "There's a tradition here, where the person who recruits you gives you something of theirs which represents that they're responsible for you. It's how I got this," he explained, jerking a lazy thumb towards his hat.

"...you weren't born with it?" You asked, and Chuuya rolled his eyes. "I was joking!"

"Very fuckin' funny, Y/N. Anyway, this means that I now give you something as a new member of the Port Mafia, which will be..."

You were about to say something but stopped as you eyed his next movements; that is, him removing his choker from his neck and presenting it to you. You stared at it, almost in awe.

"...your choker?"

"Your choker," he corrected, and you glanced up at him. He was giving you a reassuring smile. You shook your head.

"I can't take this- no, it's important to you."

"...that's why I'm giving it to you, Y/N," Chuuya replied, cocking an eyebrow. "That's kind of the point."

"Are you sure?" You hesitantly queried, reaching out and nervously taking the choker from his gloved hand. It felt warm. "Because you know, you look really cool with this thing..."

Chuuya let out a snicker as you examined the new accessory. "How flattering. But I'm sure." After hearing that, you eventually hummed in acknowledgement and began to put on the choker. Or, at least you tried to. It turns out that putting something on your neck without being able to see it is quite difficult.

"You need help?" Chuuya asked after a moment of silence.

"Well, yeah. I don't have a mirror, Chuuya. Or, are you like, Mr. Nakahara now that you're my boss?"

"Fuck no," he answered, and you laughed. Chuuya took the choker from you and began to fasten it around your neck. In your close proximity, you could almost feel his breath on you each time he exhaled. You were worried that perhaps if he focused hard enough he would be able to hear your rapidly beating heart.

"Not too tight?" He suddenly asked as he carefully adjusted the choker.

"Nope." Could he notice your nerves? If he could, he wasn't showing it.

"Right, there we go. You look great." Chuuya took a step back and examined you, now clad in his choker. Your hand travelled to your neck and brushed against the black choker.

"I do?"

"Yeah- it suits you." He smiled. You didn't know what to say, bashfully casting your eyes to the ground. "Are you blushing at me? C'mon, now."

"What? I'm not...!" Your hands flew up to your face, which was admittedly pretty hot, as Chuuya leaned forward and eyed you roguishly. "Oh, maybe I am..."

"Don't let anyone else see you do that, alright?" He warned you, though he was still giving you a cheeky smile. "You keep this between you and I."

"Y-yeah..." you nodded. You figured that he was right- getting embarrassed so easily wasn't very mafia-like. But it almost seemed as if he were purposely trying to tease you. "But you know, people are gonna see me wearing the choker."

"Again, that is kind of the point of it all, Y/N." He told you as he straightened.

"Yeah, but I'm probably gonna blush about it again if anyone asks!" You exclaimed. "It's essentially a piece of jewellery. People might start thinking we're a couple or something."

Chuuya bit his lip. Then he shrugged.

"And?"

You opened your mouth to say something but quickly closed it. Dumbstruck, you couldn't think of a way to answer him. You truly couldn't tell if he was joking, apathetic, or if that was actually supposed to be some sort of confession. Chuuya sighed in amusement, before patting you on the shoulder and continuing to stroll past you. You turned to see him walk a few feet further, before stopping.

"You know what? I think you're gonna do just fine with me." He turned his head and beamed at you. "Welcome to the Port Mafia, Y/N."

i love chuuya ( 〃▽〃)

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd fanfiction #fanfiction #bsd x reader #x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

[necros-writing-stuff]

"I can take care of myself," the hunter huffs, pushing your hands away from his rain-wettened hair. Droplets fall from the dark locks onto his cheeks, his soaked sleeve doing little to dry the skin there.

You hum, your nose scrunching as your head tilts to the side. Arms go slack, falling from his face and resting to your sides - already accepting that Eden's stubbornness would win. For now.

Evidently, though, you'd 'said' the wrong thing.

"What's that mean? 'Hmm'? You think I can't take care of myself when it's all I've been doing my entire life?" Those dark brows furrow, his lip lifting into a snear. The scars on his face warp with his expression, only furthering the fearsome glare.

Obviously a nerve had been hit. Eden's walls were built high and foundationed deep; most people didn't have a chance of getting over them, under them, or through them. He isn't sure quite when you'd gotten the seige weapons to cleave your path through each layer.

With a small smile, you turn to grab the mop, drying off the trail of footprints your husband had dragged inside. "No, I don't think you took good care of yourself. Not emotionally, anyway."

He doesn't move from his spot, but his face drops. His mouth is agape and his expression undeniably incredulous. "I'm fucking sorry? You want to repeat that?"

The rules of dealing with beasts in the wild varies by species. Some you look in the eye, make yourself bigger. Others will kill you the second your pupils lock, or fly into a rage at any posturing. Your husband's anger is best appeased by an apology (especially if it comes accompanied by a physical reparation).

"I don't think you take good care of yourself, Eden." You choose to stand your ground, throwing a look over your shoulder; your face expressionless while his grew redder from the building blood pressure.

"You never tell me how you're feeling. You never tell my why you're sad when I see it in your eyes. You just bottle everything up so tightly I don't think you recognise why you feel things half of the time until it builds and builds and yet you stay quiet and grow more distant when I'm right here to listen to it all."

His foot shifts, shoulders twitching as his eyes, for the briefest moment, flicker over to the door where the miserable rain waits for him to return. He doesn't have to go back to that cold embrace. He could stay. He could hear what you have to say, just this once.

"I-I'm fine." Yet its plain to see the struggle it takes for him to even say that, brows shooting up, head angling down, eyes widening as he chokes on the words.

"You don't have to be. I won't think any less of you for it. I think it's a very brave thing to admit when you're hurt."

Eden seems entranced by the knots in the wooden floorboards, those water droplets falling now onto his leather boots. "... I don't know how to be anything else."

There's more to say. There will always be more to dig up from Eden's iron-clad past. Instead you put the mop aside and fetch a towel, draping it over your husband's shoulders and guiding him to his favourite chair by the crackling fire as you take off his old boots.

"Just come to me and be honest when things go wrong, or something bad happens in your head. You don't need to tell me details, not if you don't want to. But I still want to hold your hand and kiss your cheek to make you smile." Your fingers thread with his own cool digits, thumbs rubbing over them to encourage warmth to return.

Eden isn't there, though. Not mentally. That far-away look in his glazed-over eyes is accompanied by a slight gathering of tears threatening to pool over his lash-line at any due moment.

Wetness be damned, you join him in his chair, arms encircling the haunted man and pulling his head against your chest. You only breath properly again when you feel his rough hands tightly grip onto you, holding on as though you're the last lifeline at the edge of a cliff.

Perhaps for him you are.

#spill my guts #eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity #gn reader #y'all like angst? #necro's fics

[fangirleaconmigo]

Demon!Geralt Geraskier AU premise/concept

(not a full full fic, just some fun)

Jaskier is a music student at an ivy league university. He has been disowned by his wealthy parents, so he is broke and working as a janitor to help pay his way.

One sunny morning, he is cleaning a frat house. The house is quiet, because all the frat boys are sleeping off hangovers from their epic Halloween party. There are broken glasses, stray bras, and empty bottles everywhere.

Ever since he was cut off financially and started cleaning dorms and frat houses, they don't invite him to parties anymore. It's fine. He is fine with it.

As he walks into the kitchen, one of the boys who used to be a friend (or so he thought) passes him groggily in the hall on his way to the bathroom. Jaskier feels a slight flush of embarrassment and decides to start cleaning in the basement.

When he descends the stairs to the basement, he takes in an odd scene.

There are abandoned velvet...robes? Everywhere? And more broken glass. There is a black circle painted on the ancient stone floors (Jaskier is gonna take a picture of that before he starts, to prove he didn't fucking deface university property) and burned down candles everywhere.

He takes out his phone and just as he snaps a picture, an abandoned robe in the center of the circle moves. Fuck. He jams his phone in his pocket. The guy is probably just sleeping something off, but what if he passed out down here? None of these fucking douchebags would have helped him. He better make sure he's ok.

He pulls aside the robe, to find a muscular, stark naked man, curled into a ball. The man startles when he feels the robe move, and he sits up. His hair is white and his pupils are golden. And when he sees Jaskier, his body flushes pink, and, wait....are those? Scales? Red scales?

The man swiftly arranges his hair and Jaskier realizes something disappears when he does that.

"Do you have...horns?" Jaskier asks stupidly.

"No. I do not have horns. Not any longer."

"Are those scales?"

Jaskier reaches out a finger and gets his hand slapped.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

The man doesn't reach for his robe. So Jaskier picks one up and holds it out. The man takes it but doesn't put it on.

Jaskier clears his throat. "Your friends are all sleeping up there. They can probably find a better place to sleep than on some rocks."

The man tilts his nose up ever so slightly. "They are not my friends."

He stands up and Jaskier's throat goes dry as he just keeps....standing. The man is huge. Like. Not normal huge. Enormous.

Jaskier looks down as the man puts on the robe. "Then why did you come to their party?" Jaskier lifts the broom in his hand. "I'm getting paid to be here at least."

"They summoned me."

"Summoned?"

Jaskier stares at him for a moment in silence. The man just stares back.

"Are you a--"

"A demon, yes."

"Shit. That's. That's cool. I've never met a demon."

"You aren't afraid?"

Jaskier scratches his temple and considers. "Well. According to my parents, Satan is my father and I'm going to hell when I die. So. Seems like I sort of....maybe...belong to you."

"Hmmm." The man seems to be amused, but it is hard to tell.

Jaskier holds out his hand. "Jaskier. Nice to meet you."

"Really?"

"Why not?"

"Well. It's usually less nice to meet you and more here are my demands."

"They summoned you to demand something? What do people usually demand?"

"It's usually fuck or fight. I don't know what these guys wanted because they wandered off before I got here. They were pretty wasted."

"Fuck...or..."

"They want me to kill someone for them. Or they expect me to fall in love with them and fuck them. Or some combination of the three."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, you're very attractive, Mr..."

"Geralt. It's Geralt."

"You're insanely attractive, Geralt. I feel uniquely qualified to say that since I have seen you stark naked. But it does seem rather....presumptuous to expect that any demon that shows up is going to want to fuck you."

"I do not think they care what I want."

Jaskier shuddered. "Fucking creeps."

Geralt grunts listlessly. He arranges the robe around him. The black velvet is stunning against his skin. These douchebag frat boys might be pricks, but they do have an eye for fabric.

Jaskier stays silent for a moment again, listening for noises upstairs. "I think they're still asleep. Why don't you get out of here. Go home."

"I cannot. I am bound inside the circle. And even if I could get out of the circle, I am bound to this plane until they release me. There is a ritual where they release me back home. Back to hell."

Jaskier lays down the broom and rubs his chin in thought.

"Can I let you out?"

"Yes. Just scuff the circle."

Jaskier immediately scuffs the circle, and Geralt sighs in relief. He steps outside of the strip of black paint and stretches his arms, then his legs. Jaskier is thoroughly transfixed by the rippling muscles and thighs thick as tree trunks.

"I cannot leave this area though. I find that I can get about a mile away before I start to fade. I cannot leave. And if they realize their ritual worked, they will find me."

"But the only way they will do the closing ritual is if they realize it worked."

"Exactly."

"You are in a pickle, sir."

"Indeed."

Jaskier clears his throat and scuffs the floor with his foot, even though the paint is scuffed enough. "You can come stay with me. Hide out. I am staying in a hostel now, but it's a private room. We could sneak you in."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course. And I've already raided their pantry. I have bags of food under the window outside I can just swipe on the way out." Jaskier grinned. "We can eat like kings."

Geralt chuckles. "I do enjoy human food occasionally. I don't need to eat, but it is pleasurable. But Jaskier."

"Yes?"

The demon scrunches his face, affecting a ferocious threating expression. "His power over me does not extend to you. You cannot compel me to do anything. In fact, I can kill you with a thought. Just a mere notion. You'd be dead. Rotten. Bones clattering to the ground. All that before I even speak."

Jaskier sucks his cheeks in for a moment as he thinks. "Well, do you kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt shakes his head. "No."

Jaskier grins. "Then I'm safe."

They sneak upstairs together and slink through the halls. They hear voices in the living room and Geralt startles. The sight of a demon the size of a dragon trying to crouch back into corner is one Jaskier will not soon forget.

Two of the frat boys are awake and chatting. "Did you see fucking Julian come through here?"

"No. What's that dickswab doing here?"

"He's in the basement cleaning."

"He's the cleaning lady?"

"He's poor now. His parents disowned him."

"Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?"

The boys dissolve into laughter and Jaskier feels his neck flush hot. For some reason, it is extra humiliating to be laughed at in front of a large, powerful, gorgeous, actual demon.

"Come on, Geralt," he says. "There's another exit.

As they change direction down the other hall, there is a shriek and a gurgle from the direction of the living room. Even though they move fast and are outside in just a moment, Jaskier hears the screams through the open window.

"Percy's dead!"

He looks at Geralt in shock. Geralt shrugs. "Percy wasn't at the ritual. I'm not bound to him."

"I thought you didn't kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt fidgets. "He isn't dead. They're being dramatic. It's just a bit of...pain." He watches Jaskier, brow furrowed. "Do you--do you-- still want to help me?"

Jaskier doesn't need to think about that one. "I do. But you need to learn some manners. There are a lot of assholes in this place and even some living in the hostel. If we leave a trail of bodies, they'll find you very quickly."

Geralt nods.

"Good. Now. How do you feel about cappuccino?" He lifted a bag that jangled. "They have one of those fancy machines. I'm borrowing it."

Geralt grunts again. Jaskier has already figured that one out. It is agreement.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #demon au

[windvexer]

hi, im really new to witchcraft and I've been interested in delving into planetary Intelligences and ig basically the idea of calling spirits (if that's the right word) to help me out. but honestly everytime i think about actually doing it i feel really really afraid. do you have any advice on how to stop feeling so uncomfortable? i just kinda feel afraid that I'm gonna piss something off and everything is gonna go to shit

Hi anon! Welcome to the wonderful world of witchcraft and spirit work ^-^

I think this is one of those things that doesn't go away with an easy answer.

Depending on where you're from, many of us were raised with deep fear of spirits and witchcraft, or even just the occult in general.

It's not wrong to be afraid, and fear itself can have a complex and powerful role in witchcraft; but I believe that's aside the point of someone trying to get into witchcraft and going "oh no! What if these forces are actually malevolent assholes who can't wait to tear me to shreds the very second I flub a line?"

But fear is information, right? One solution is to start learning and internalizing new, more balanced information, to help temper this response.

Gaining information can include things like:

Reading books from authors who work with planetary intelligences, who are able to speak on the personalities and behaviors of these intelligences

Linking up with other practitioners in a group setting and learning about their experiences

And eventually:

Performing rituals you're comfortable with and gaining information through experience

As far as I'm concerned, planetary magic is pretty decent to start out with. The planets are good guys, they're forgiving, not really all that uptight, and the magic is effective and powerful.

Some people might say, just jump right in! Start with a developed system and use the rituals of people who have done this thing a lot and have specially prepared rituals for beginners to try out what they want to try. Get over your fear by plunging in.

Which, sure, definitely do so if you'd like to.

But on the other hand, if you'd prefer to explore your fear a little more and gain balancing information first, why not do that?

Ultimately, I really don't think anyone out here should be working with beings they think are going to cause major shit if they get a little bit pissed off.

Recently I was speaking to a friend who voiced some concerns about spirit work, especially the possibility of making spirits angry and therefore aggressive. My response was, yeah, that's fine if they do that; accidentally pissing someone off is a normal part of interpersonal connection.

For example, imagine you run into a mother and her baby at the grocery store. You strike up a brief conversation, and overtaken by how cute that little baby is, you say, "what a cute baby!" and you grab and wiggle it's little foot.

The mother, reasonably, says, "no. Stop touching my baby. You shouldn't touch my baby."

And based on her expression, she means it.

So you say, "oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. You're right, that was inappropriate."

And she chills out and then the two of you follow each other on TikTok and trade information on farmer's markets.

So it's kind of like this in spirit relationships, too. Anger and aggression aren't bad. When you go over the line, a shift in tone that encourages you to get back into your lane isn't bad.

It's information; it's telling you that you shouldn't be doing that. It's information that you choose how to act on.

The problem is if you choose to work with spirits who then decide to put you through shit if you do anything to ever dare piss them off, no matter how innocent or accidental your mistake was.

Which... don't work with spirits like that. And the planets aren't like that.

I dunno, I piss my spirits off. Not on purpose, but it happens. I pissed off my Initiator just last week and got lectured for a half-hour. I pissed off Mercury (planet) real bad once too. And he was just like, "ok, well... don't you do that again >:|"

If you're afraid of working with a category of spirits (like, planetary intelligences), ask yourself if there is any category of spirits you would feel comfortable with.

If your conclusion is that any spirit might start big shit with you if you make a mistake, then that information I suspect would reveal more about you than the spirit world.

Yeah. Work with the planets if you like; they're good guys. Take a step back and immerse yourself in things a little more if you feel the need to. Work with different spirits instead if you like. But I suspect that there is no single key that is going to resolve this for you. Big Fear Of Spirits is a big fear to transform.

#answered

[elysianavenue]

Cuts and Bruises

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: minor injuries, mentions of blood, y/n has hair long enough to cover your forehead, im sorry if that's not accurate!

Summary: you get hurt during a commission but you can't hide anything from master diluc

Word count: 1k

Tags: @duckymcdoorknob

Diluc Ragnvindr was a rather cold, upfront, aloof man. It seemed that a scowl was permanently etched onto his face, which usually intimidated the people of Mondstadt. However, there were few people who knew of Master Diluc's true nature. Turns out, he wasn't cold or upfront or aloof, even. He was protective, a softie at heart, and very much selfless.

You, of course, were one of the only ones to know about this side of Diluc that he didn't like showing off. In fact, you knew all too well as he seemed to love showing you this side of him.

So, when you received a commission to deal with a common hilichurl camp and happened to receive a couple cuts and bruises, you knew you were in for the side of Diluc that he liked to show only you if it could be helped.

In all honesty, you felt fine. Minor injuries were more than common when you were an adventurer in the Guild. But still, you knew what awaited you back in the City of Freedom.

As you walked through the gates of Mondstadt, you could feel the eyes of a few passerbys. Shaking it off, you put on a smile and walked up to the desk of the Adventurers Guild where a friendly face stood.

"Ad Astra Abyssosque," Katheryne recited the Guild motto as usual. Her smile dropped as soon as she noticed the bruises and cuts upon your face and arms.

Once again shaking off the concern look from someone, you smiled. "Hello, Katheryne. I finished those commissions," You spoke confidently.

The poor woman looked unsure of what to say, but smiled lightly nonetheless. "O-Of course. Here's your reward, Y/n," She spoke with hesitance in her voice but you ignored it.

Smiling gratefully, you took the commission rewards and stuffed them into your bag before bidding farewell to Katheryne.

Your next stop was your home. You didn't want a certain red head to see you like this.

The universe seemed to have other plans, however. You barely got ten steps away from the Guild front desk when you saw Diluc walking in your general direction.

"Son of a -," You were cut off by the sound of your name being called.

Quickly, you turned your head and moved your hair to cover the cut on your forehead. You'd deal with the blood sticking to your hair later.

"Y/n, didn't you hear me calling you?" Diluc appeared next to you before you could fully turn to face him.

You cautiously turned, making sure to keep the covered side of your face as inconspicuous as possible. Once again, you plastered on a smile. "Sorry! Lost in thought, I suppose!" You apologized, smiling brightly at the tall man.

His eyebrows furrowed in the slightest at your odd behavior. He read you like a book, afterall. He knew when something was up.

"No need to apologize. Say, are you hiding something from me?" He asked, trying to meet your eyes, but you avoided his. Gods, you were a terrible liar.

"No, why?" You asked, beginning to walk away. Of course he followed you.

"Well, for starters, you're hiding behind your hair," He pointed out the most obvious thing that you had the audacity to think wasn't noticeable.

Still, you continued on with the act. Scoffing and crossing your arms, even, to make it more believable. "Well, I did just get back from a commission, excuse me if my hair is a little unkempt!" You exclaimed, maybe a bit too dramatically.

Diluc shook his head and gave you a look that said he could see right through your terrible acting.

"Hmph, well I'm gonna go shower," You didn't get very far as he grabbed your arm and turned you to face him fully. You barely had time to blink as his eyes saw passed the hair.

The familiar look of concern replaced his scowl as he gently brushed your hair aside.

"Diluc..." You trailed off, your act completely faded away now.

"Not hiding anything, huh?" He sarcastically remarked.

Sighing as you shook your head, you let your eyes close to avoid his stern gaze. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. You get all worried," You mumbled.

"I'm sorry for worrying?" He asked, a bit of offense taken.

You sighed once more. "I didn't mean it like that. I just mean that you don't need to worry all the time. Look, I'm perfectly fine!" You tried to reassure him.

"Perfectly fine? You have blood dripping into your eye!" He raised his voice slightly.

"I- not a lot of blood!" You countered, but realized that it was useless.

It was Diluc's turn to sigh. "Does it hurt?" He asked, his hand holding your cheek.

If it were a less tense situation, you would've blushed at the gesture. Instead, you opted for grabbing his hand.

"No, I'm okay, Diluc. I promise. But, if it means that much to you, I'll let you patch me up. Okay?" You compromised with him, looking into his eyes. He nodded and the two of you set off towards your home.

There you sat in your tiny living room while Diluc worked on the cut on your forehead. He gently cleaned up the blood from your forehead and hair, cleaned the cut itself, then placed a bandaid on it. He insisted on tending to your other wounds, but you won the argument as they were only scratches and bruises.

"Feel better?" You asked him, a cheeky smile on your face. He scoffed. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" He inquired, leaning back on your couch. You shrugged and joined him, resting your head against his arm.

"For the millionth time, I'm okay. But thank you for taking care of me," You replied softly, feeling the events of the day weigh down on you, suddenly.

Diluc smiled ever so lightly and placed a small kiss to your hair. "Always," He uttered, watching as you fell asleep against his chest.

this was just a little drabble i thought was cute. also lemme know if you have a request for genshin characters and lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist:) - madi

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin imagines

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Golden hour

Final chapter

a/n welcome to the final chapter! I'm extremely sorry for the wait but I hope the ones who still enjoy this will have fun reading regardless. Thank you for joining me on this journey. 🤍

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Azriel was sitting in his office. The night was in full bloom as he flipped through yet another stack of papers. He never complained about it. Work has always been something he has enjoyed. A way to feel useful and needed. A way for him to feel himself, even if what Azriel did, didn't paint him as the best of males. A strange noise, coming from the other side of the door, made him lift his head, and when the sound echoed through the room again with a frown on his face, Azriel stood up.

His foot landed on the floor with a splash, and the shadow singer dropped his gaze. His guts twisted as the ever-so-familiar golden substance came into his sight. Then panic set in, and the room seemed to close in on itself. As he frantically crossed the room, following the golden track, his brain went numb. And there you were. Spread out on the floor. Covered in open bites. Drained and lifeless. No. No. No. Azriel wasn't sure if he said those words out loud as he fell to his knees in front of you. Your face was twisted in pain, and it took a lot of self-control to not vomit at the sight of it. Azriel tried to lift you, but the moment he touched you, he heard your bones crushing beneath his fingers, and then your screams filled his ears. Screams so loud and was filled with so much pain that he thought someone was skinning him alive.

Azriel shot up, breathing heavily as sweat dripped down his body. Ever since the events in Autumn, his nightmares had shifted. He no longer dreamed of his father's abuse or his hands being burned. No, he kept seeing you die now. Over and over in more than one way. If not from someone else's hand, then from his own. If he thought that his previous nightmare was rough, well, he sure had the Mother laughing at him now.

To the feeling of your hands running down his back, Azriel flinched. But the kisses you left on his shoulder slowly brought him back to reality, and he let the warmth of your shin slowly wash the crippling fear away. The first time it happened, you offered to take the dreams from him, but Azriel knew what that would mean for you, and he wasn't going to let you repeatedly see yourself dying over and over again.

"I'm fine," the shadow singer muttered, bringing your hand up to his lips before kissing it softly a couple of times. You let out a sigh. Fighting with him was pointless. Same as trying to make him talk about it. You knew what he dreamed of, but... Moving closer to your lover, you nestled yourself on his lap and said, "One night, please, let me give you one night of sleep." The last week or so had been insanely hectic. From you being kept under close watch to Rhys going out of his way to keep you under so many shields, at times it was hard for you to even feel Azriel. Then Madja didn't let you move for a good portion of that time. Your body was weak. You were weak. So weak that shifting out of your full fairy form wasn't an option. Yet that you cared about the least. Plus, it was quite interesting to watch Azriel inspect your wings. He'd spent more than one evening drawing shapes in the vibrant patterns on your wings. He had called them a masterpiece. But your heart was mostly heavy with all the people you had left behind in the Autumn. Their lives now depended on you and you alone. You'd been nothing more than a coward. You wanted to help solve it all, but Rhys had politely asked you to step aside while he handled everything. And with the problems, you had already brought them you didn't fight his choice.

"You're weak, love. This can cause more...", "Azriel, you babying me won't help me, please." You knew that his silence as you two laid down wasn't him agreeing to your proposal, but you waited till the spymaster drifted off anyways, before you slivered into his unconsciousness. When Azriel stirred late the next morning, he found you sitting with your legs up to your chin next to him as you started at the wall. In the same way, he had shivered at your touch in the night, his warm embrace sent you trembling as well. You smiled as you softly caressed his cheek, "Morning, handsome," but Azriel didn't return your smile, "You did it, didn't you?" Lying was pointless; even if you pretended that you only shifted the dream, it wouldn't help the case, so you nodded your head and said, "And I'll do it again if I have to."

Azriel pulled you closer to him by your hand. Even if the spymaster rarely left your side now, you two have hardly been spending quality time together. It felt wrong for you to feel sad about that, considering everything that was going on, but you couldn't help it. You tilted your head up so you could look up at him. Carefully nuzzling into his embrace. "You're thinking loudly," Azriel snickered, but you couldn't bring yourself to giggle alongside him, "Y/N?". Damn all of the shields you tried to put on yourself. With a sigh, you moved away from the shadow singer. His confused eyes watching you.

"Rhys sent a letter", Azriel's expression didn't change as if he couldn't pinpoint why that would be a bad thing, "He wants to talk to me alone", "Reason being?", you just shrugged your shoulders. When you had made somewhat of a recovery, Rhys had you questioned about working for Beron. It didn't seem like he had anything against you. But then again, you understood why he would be suspicious of you. His name was on the list of people Beron wanted you to watch. "Well, you're not going alone", "Azriel...", you whined. The shadows singer sat up quietly, "You and I", he gestured at the two of you, "We handle and do everything together now," he said. "Will you be joining me in the bathroom?", you cocked your head to the side and grinned. Azriel only rolled his eyes at you, "Whatever he wants, he can tell us both."

To say that you were worried would have been an understatement. And the fact that Rhysand's face was unreadable also didn't help the case. But you were thankful that at least he did not comment when Azriel stepped into the room after you. "There will be a trial. Most of the high lords agreed that camps and what was done to Y/N had violated quite a handful of rules", even the mention of it made a shiver run down your back, and Azriel instantly took a hold of your hand. "Beron is most likely to be executed, but Eris. Eris and Lucien they need to serve in Autumn", that part didn't surprise you. Eris always knew that no matter what dirty things of his father that he participated in, he would always have immunity. He wasn't afraid to show it off. Hence his behavior that involved you.

"That is bullshit", Azriel murmured through gritted teeth, "They will be punished but there's no final decision as to how". Rhys was calm, yet there was something beneath the surface. You felt another tingle run through you as you spoke, "That's not it; I can feel it." You instantly could tell that this was the part that the high lord wanted you two to discuss alone. This was the reason why no one, especially Azriel, wasn't supposed to be here. "The lords want to use your power to break down whatever Beron had going on and track down his allies," Rhys said after taking a deep breath.

Azriel tensed instantly at the sound of that, his eyes darkening as he gaped at Rhys, "Use? Use? You're not going to use my mate." You pulled at his arm, making sure that he wouldn't jump at Rhys. "This is mostly because Y/N had been tracking them", "She didn't do it for fun", the shadow singer barked, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward. "I know, Az," but the spymaster only shook his head and asked, "Do you? Because you're backing them, Rhys." You knew very well that the tension was going to rise once Beron's plan to take down all the high lords using their biggest fears against them came out. All in all, you knew you could be sentenced to death yourself. But you've been twisting the truth, telling Beron stuff that wouldn't be enough to break down courts. That had to mean something, right?

"No, the answer is no, Rhys, and if anyone has an issue with that, send them my way," Azriel roared, already pushing you behind him. "Az," you said in a worried way. Hands slowly ran up and down his back, hoping to calm him down. But they were all up in one another's faces, snarling at each other. "You don't give me orders, shadow singer," and you could tell that Azriel was going to launch forward, so you pushed yourself in front of him. Attempting to put as much distance between the two brothers as possible. Step in before both of them say things they regret.

"I would agree, but I can get stuck in Beron's mind; he knows how to trap me," you said quietly. Eyes glossing up as you thought about all the times he had toyed with you to his delight. Azriel's arms pulled you closer to him at the sound of that. "No, Rhys, please," the spymaster muttered. Now it wasn't anger; it was panic that flooded his eyes. Shear panic on having to go through the fright of losing you. He didn't want to step away. He didn't want to put you in harm's way. You've been through enough. Been used enough. Used and abused. Rhys knew this. Knew this very well himself. His shoulders sank, "I'm on your side. I'll do all I can so that she wouldn't have to be a part of any of this". 

The high lord reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze, "Maybe you'll share your memories with me, and I'll just show it to them as proof." You nodded your head slowly. Even if you didn't want to relive it all, you didn't want them to be able to get out of this with no consequences. After some time, Feyre emerged to steal you away for a final cup of tea before you two went back to your tiny home. A decision you both made a couple of days ago. You needed a bit of privacy and a chance to process everything together.

Before Azriel stood up to leave as well, Rhys caught his hand and said, "We will protect her, I promise." Azriel nodded his head before embracing his brother in a tight hug. The realization of how long it's been since they shared a moment like that hit him, hard. "She came to me that night because I was having a nightmare," Azriel said, his voice barely audible as the males separated. "I've been having them for a long time but... I was ashamed and said nothing", Rhys's eyes filled with sympathy, "Azriel, you should have...", "I know but it made me feel weak". 

Silence fell over the room for a minute, and then Rhys draped his hand over his brother's shoulders, "She changed your life, and I'm kind of glad that you two went against my plan to separate you for the time being." Azriel let out a low chuckle. "But know that we would never think you're weak. You have a worrier's heart," pressing his hand to Azriel's chest, Rhys clapped his hand on the leather a couple of times. "We support each other as a family and we fight as a family, brother", Azriel nodded his head at his high lord's words. Now, it was only Cassian that he had to tell all of this to. And then the weight would be off his shoulders.

The flight back to your house felt almost nostalgic, and as you both landed in front of the now infamous door, you couldn't contain a smile. It looked just like you had left it as if nothing had happened in the past couple of months. "After you, my lady," Azriel chirped as he unlocked the door, but your eyes drifted to your garden, which in its untended state had almost all died down. Azriel's eyes followed, "Hey, we'll regrow everything", "I know it's just sad," you said as you stepped through the door and into the house.

"We can go to the market to get you some seeds, and I bet we need things to make food for tonight," you hummed as you dusted off the table before placing your cloak on it. Eyes fell on the blanket bed that was still on the floor in the middle of the living room. "Would you go out into the city with me?",  "What kind of question is that?" Azriel looked at you all confused, "Well, you don't strike me as a male who would just walk hand in hand with me." Azriel rolled his eyes before coming closer to you, kissing the side of your head before he spun you around. "We could dance through the streets if you want," he said, and you let out a giggle as he shimmied his shoulders a couple of times. You two just stayed in each other's embrace for some time in complete silence. Silence until your stomach grumbled with hunger.

"Maybe you go out to buy some stuff and I and sprout can start on making food", Azriel's eyes wrinkled again, "Who's sprout?", had he missed some creature you grew here? Or was it a person? But you just pointed a finger behind him, making the spymaster turn that way. Not far from you two flouted the shadow that had been by your side at all times.

"You named my shadow?", you only nodded your head, and the little ball of darkness instantly edged closer to you. "Oh, no, no one else is getting named," Azriel shook his head as more of his shadows rushed to you. But the balls of darkness didn't seem to listen as you lifted your hands so they could dance all over you. "It's okay, we won't tell him," you whispered to them, knowing full well that Azriel could hear you. The truth was that Azriel loved it. Loved that something so deadly that was supposed to be scary was so loved by you. As if his most damaged side was being loved by you the most, "I'll pretend I didn't hear it." You giggled, moving into the kitchen to start working on the shopping list.

Humming under your breath, you mixed the stew that was cooking in one of the pots. Azriel had come back not long after you two separated, giving you just enough time to clean up the house and get the fire started. With him now sorting through your books, you were left to finish making dinner. It felt homely and safe. For the first time in a while, you both had no worries on your shoulders. Even if it was for just one evening. It seemed like the biggest gift.

"It smells so good that I need to control myself to not drool all over," Azriel said. His warm hands sneaked over your middle as he inched closer, careful not to hurt your wings. You leaned into his chest, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped through your much cooler skin. It was a delight to soak in his warmth. Noticing that Azriel ran his hands up and down your arms "Get the table ready; we'll be able to eat soon." With one last kiss to the top of your head, Azriel moved to pull out two bowls and some plates for the roasted rosemary-honey potatoes that - he was convinced without even trying - were going to be delightful. Noticing a couple of candles on the other side of the room, the spymaster was quick enough to place them in the middle of the table before lighting them.

You emerged from the kitchen carrying a still-sizzling tray. "Do I have to warn you not to touch them yet?" you teased the male as you turned to him. Azriel was already licking his lips. But he only shook his head, moving to walk with you back into the kitchen so he could pour himself some stew, but you snatched the bowl out of his hands. Azriel frowned slightly.

"Go sit down", your eyes met him for a moment, and you could tell without needing to place your hand on his chest that Azriel's heart had started beating rapidly, "Love..?", but you just smiled at him before pushing him out through the door. Those couple of minutes of waiting for you to come out with the food had been rather nerve wreaking. So many thoughts were running through his mind. Yet Azriel tried to hold himself together. Sprout flew through the doors first, nuzzling against Azriel's cheek before disappearing into nothingness.

And then you came out the door. You had the biggest smile on your face, carrying a much larger bowl than Azriel had brought out for you two to eat from. "If I'm not mistaken, I need to make and offer for your food, right?" Azriel's eyes went big. You two had decided to wait before accepting the bond. He wanted you to be sure. To be well and recovered. To give you enough time to heal. It didn't mean that Azriel wasn't craving to finally have it fully snap into place. But maybe this wasn't at all what he thought it was. "What are you doing?" he mumbled, his eyes searching yours as you placed the bowl in front of him.

 "I made you my favorite stew with lots of love, and I want us to finally accept the mating bond." Azriel's thoughts were all over the place as he kept on looking at you and the food in front of him. "I want you, Azriel; it's been you for so long. I want to finally make my heart your home", the spymaster reached for your hand pulling you closer so you could sit on his lap. Embracing you in his arms, "This feels like a dream, I'm so scared I'm going to wake up, and you'll be gone", he murmured, pressing himself closer to you. Those thoughts hunt him often, at times the feelings that flouted through him, simply felt too good to be true. Like in a blink of an eye, you'll disappear. Vanish, leaving only a memory.

"But I am here, and I'm yours", you said softly, combining your fingers through his, "Now, would you please take a bite, my mate?" Smiling from ear to ear, you watched as Azriel picked up a spoon with slightly trembling fingers. Right before he took the first bite, he turned to you, pressing his lips to yours in a rather messy kiss. It felt as if all of the world's sounds felt brighter. Like every sound and smell was sharper. The golden thread between you started to glow, and like a crashing wave on the shore, the feeling of Azriel's presence flourished inside you. Tears picked up the corners of your eyes as you pressed yourself closer to your lover's chest. It felt so overwhelming to feel him. Fully feel him. Azriel had to close his eyes for a moment, but even that didn't help as the tears rolled down his cheeks. You were here in his arms. So near, and only his to care for and love.

Looking down at you, he couldn't contain a giggle: "You're glowing again," and indeed you were sparkling like the brightest star during the Starfall. "Can you blame me? I'm officially mated to the most handsome male in the whole court," Azriel let out a deep belly laugh before leaning closer to you, "I love you so much. I'll love you till the end of time. Through all the golden hours and cloudy skies," Azriel muttered into the crown of your head, leaving kisses in between his words. Smiling at him, you gently wiped away the tears from his cheeks before leaning in to kiss him yet again. As mates now. As two hearts who, from now on, only beat for one another.

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All acotar writing: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468

This series: @moonfawnx @piceous21 @are-y0u-sirius @fall-myriad @hanasakr @j-brielmalfoy @harrylines

#azriel x reader #rhys x reader #cassian x reader #acotar imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader

[mrbexwrites]

OC in 15 or less

@sarahlizziewrites tagged me here- thank you <3

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Passing the tag onto @queen-tashie @at-thezenith @andromedaexists @cowboybrunch @emberlyric @duckingwriting and anyone else who'd like to join :)

Please enjoy some out of context Morgana Dodds. I've taken these out of the first three books of Memento Mori, and I hope they kind of show her character arc, even if just a little :

"I’ve done more than anyone else has,” I felt my hackles rise in defence of myself. “I’m not a police officer. This isn’t even my job!”

 “I just want to be left alone, and get on with my life. Like a normal person.” 

“I was hardly a superhero.”

“Sorry, I was held up with something,” I opened the door, and let her in. “Tea?” 

“How long was I gone?”

“I’m sorry,” who I was apologising to, I wasn’t sure.

“It’s my specialty,” I hugged my knees to my chest, self-conscious of the hole in my bloodied shirt. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“I’m fine. But I appreciate you checking in on me, and I might take you up on your offer.” 

“I step aside. Normally, I go to the Beyond and just hang out there until I need my body back, or you leave. But this time, I’m going to try to stay here.”

“You made one tactical error,” I spat blood from my mouth, revelling in the metallic taste on my tongue. [...]“You fucked with my family,” I wrapped my hand around his wrist, and gripped his soul.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice then, do I?”

“Go ahead,” I nodded to her. “Have some fun. I’ll clear up here, and have an early night. The last night out I had in Albuquerque didn’t end so well!”

“You know, in the olden days, like centuries ago, I think, going all the way back to the Egyptians maybe...but anyway, ancient peoples believed that a person’s essence was kept in their hair and nails. So to have someone’s essence, is to have power over them.” [...]“Maybe there were more like me, back in those times. So, people were careful with their hair and nails, and teeth too. They knew the power you could have over someone, if you held their essence. For example, you can summon the dead back from their graves. Make sure they never find peace.”

“When Gregarov screams and begs for forgiveness, it’s not the universe that he’s speaking to, or God. It’s the women that you’ve forgotten...the nameless, disposable ‘bitches’...that have an entire afterlife to spend repaying the torment he gave to them in life.”[...]“I can’t do anything to you in the world of the living, but no one lives forever, Antoli. You’ll have to enter my realm at some point. And I’ll be waiting, along with all the faceless, nameless, disposable ‘cunts’ that you threw in the canal, in the garbage, just used up and discarded when you didn’t want them anymore.”

“I’d love to.”

#morgana dodds #tag games

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

I'm so so so sorry to make a request, I just can't bring myself to write this to calm myself down

How would Eddie respond to an ftm reader that's experiencing something similar to Arthur Havisham's "Why did your father stop loving you?" Scene? The heartbreak when Arthur says "You beat me"

Maybe Jason asks the reader that and he breaks down because he has a terrible relationship with his abusive father

Again I'm so sorry

Sorry for taking so long to get to this! I hope it suffices. I felt bad for how long this took me and I managed to watch snippets of the scene so I feel like there's something I might be missing. Please let me know if this isn't what you were looking for.

Requests have resumed. You can submit yours here!

Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, readers of color too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

Eddie Munson x Trans!Male!Reader

CW: Mentions of abuse (not actually detailed out); references to binding

_____________________

It's been building--that much you do know.

You don't know when the seal first cracked. You hadn't been paying that close attention to things. But when it all exploded, when the dust settled and you watched from outside yourself, you know that everything, with enough pressure, does have a limit. You are not a superhero, not superhuman, and thus, you too have a limit.

And Jason Carver is that limit.

He's not the exact catalyst. You had your father to blame for that. But Carver is the match in a pile of dynamite. He is the spark--the hammer to come down on the cracked cover.

Only in retrospect does it become clear that maybe when Eddie asked you if you wanted to take Friday night after a game of Dungeons and Dragons just to 'hang out, blow off some steam' that he really was asking you if you were okay.

And you weren't. But you weren't going to burden Eddie with it. Considering he already had enough on his plate. You'd caught in whispers the conversation he had with Wayne when you were over about an extra expense because of the leaky faucet. They weren't in any position to let it continue to be a problem, but it was proving harder for either Wayne or Eddie to fix themselves. "Think he'd fix it cheap?" Eddie had asked. Wayne's reply came evenly, "No, but he'll fix it right."

So no--you were not in a mind to burden Eddie. But the shouting, the searing palms were still pressing down on you. They'd never stopped if you're honest. And you think they never will stop. Nothing is going to give in your favor.

After tucking yourself away in your bedroom, praying that the door you're pressed against doesn't rattle with a pounding fist or foot, you prayed into a seemingly never answering void that you'd survive the week. Jason had decided since Tuesday that you were the object of his displeasure.

It started with jabs at your clothes. Then it's your voice. It feels like anything can be wrong is wrong and Carver's making it a personal mission to point it all out. It wasn't easy to brush it aside. It wasn't fun to have decide if you're going to start a fight or leave it alone. And those your natural inclination may to leave ignorance alone, you lose the choice when you're hiding out at Lover's Lake, trying to let the stars wash over you.

There's a ruckus for a few feet from you. You're going to ignore it. Most people come out here if they're trying to drink. You're not going to bother them. You stay tucked away and hug your knees up to your chest. The group is a little rowdy at first, but they settle down, voices falling from boisterous laughter into broken chuckles and the occasional shout.

It's fine for a little bit. And you're not sure how long you're out there, but the voice get louder again. There's metal cans you can hear now clinking together. Loud groups and alcohol, a recipe for disaster.

"Hey!"

You turn to the voice, only just a little to see part of a body who's calling out to you. You think it's Carver, given the slightly tinniness to his voice. But you don't give it too much thought before you finish brushing the gravel off your butt from where you were sitting.

There's a crunch, the distinct sound of someone running on the rocky shoreline. "Hey, I'm fuck-fucking talking to you!" The words don't fall clearly; they slur, bumping into each other like the syllables don't know their place in the sentence and cadence.

This is only supposed to be a moment to escape, feel at peace for the first fucking time all week. You continue on. No need to give into the drunkenness.

"The fuck, bro. Just slow down!"

You remain silent, pushing onward and the crunch of gravel under the shoes is louder and louder until a hand catches your elbow. "What the fuck? You can't hear?"

The hand comes up to hoodie you've pushed over your head like trying to swat away flies and you realize Jason--clearer closer up--must think you've got headphones on. You push back at his swatting head. "I can choose not to respond," you huff, pushing away from him.

He holds tighter. "I-I want to ask you something."

"Carver, not today," you warn, pulling firm to get your wrist free from his hold.

"I-just listen, please," he begs. And when you look at his face, highlighted by moonlight, you something that looks like it might be an ounce of concern. It doesn't last long because you tug again.

When Carver lets you go, you take a step back your balance off for a moment but you catch yourself. You don't want to cry. But the heat of Carver's touch is still searing into your skin, into the some tender spot you'd been nursing this particular week.

"What does it feel like?"

You shake out your wrist a little, face pinching up into confusion. "What does what feel like?"

Carver only gestures over you. "This--what does it feel like? Like, we all know."

And you're not sure what he's referring too--what it is that everyone knows. There's too many things for the town to know and too many things that the rumor mill always churns. It could almost be anything at this point that he's trying to hint at.

"I--whatever," you retort, but something catches in your chest. You're really not sure what he's referring to.

Carver takes your wrist again and yanks the sleeve up. His hand with the can still in the grasps waves over you again, like he's trying to gesture to something without really giving it away. There's a pause at your torso and you think you know what really is being given away. "Tell me--When do your father stop loving you?"

It cracks--everything you'd been swallowing down. Everything you'd been trying to throw more and more dirt onto to bury comes vomiting back up when you slam your first into Jason's chest. The thud of his chest vibrates up your arm. "Leave it alone!"

"Fuck you. Fuck you for asking that," you huff. "You don't--" but the truth cracks with your voice. "I don't know."

You're not sure when it started or why it started. But you were here now--hiding from everyone. Perhaps even from yourself. You don't know how long you stand their wailing at the boy's body. But you don't feel like it's been long enough. "Fuck you!" you shout. "Fuck you!"

Arms wrap around your waist. Your weight falls into them--not that you have a choice. You're being pulled away. And when the arms don't release you at the tug of your fingers into their forearms, you start thrashing against them. "Hey, hey, it's me! It's Eddie!"

It's only the sound of his name that makes you freeze long enough to blink through the tears. Carver's keeping the rest of the team pushed back away from you, like he maybe he's defending you. But when he turns, his eyes are downturned. Like he hadn't really meant to cause so much a scene. But the damage is done now.

You think you see something that might turn into a bruise on his face--a red spot on his cheek. You're not sure if you did that. But the thought that maybe you did freezes your blood.

"No, no, no, no, no," you whimper.

"It's me, Eddie. Please stop fighting me," Eddie tries again. He'd only come to the Lake when he climbed into your window and noticed your room was empty. You'd left the window unlocked and cracked so it was easier for you to sneak in and out of it.

Eddie used it to his advantage when he wanted to hang out with you, but couldn't through on the phone to ensure you were home. Sometimes, he didn't even feel like dealing with your dad so he'd drive over and just poke his head up into the window.

When he didn't see you in your room and you hadn't mentioned to him going anywhere he had an inclination that you might be here at the lake. Your body is limp now in his arms. Your broken sobs are loud in the night. They echo and echo.

"Talk to me. What happened? What did Carver do?"

"I-it's me," you heave out.

Eddie settles, releasing his arms slowly from around you. "You? What do you mean it's you?"

The words don't come up anymore, just an ugly sob. Eddie does what he can, encasing you now in a hug, face buried into his chest. "It's okay. You're okay now," he returns.

You don't have enough breath. You're heaving and you know it. You'd cried up everything on the walk back to Eddie's van, but now you're heaving. Your chest is on fire. The world is starting to get just a little blurry on the edges. It's not the tears. You know what it is, the pinches at your chest and ribs prominent more now with the excessive physical movement and possibly from Eddie's earlier grasps on you too.

The bandages sting at your skin. Your face is hot with embarrassment and tears.

There lies the wreckage. There it lies.

In the back of the van, Eddie notices your subtle tugs. "How long have you been wearing them?"

"All-all day," you heave.

"You know you can't do that," he reprimands. It's gentle, hand resting on your knee. He's dug out napkins to give to you to wipe the tears and snot from your face.

You only give a half a shrug.

"I'll guard the door, but you have to promise you'll have take the binding off if I do. I won't risk my ass to Carver for nothing."

You can only nod. Everything feels uneasy, shakes in your hands but you can get it undone at least. Eddie takes the affirmative sign and slips back out the backdoors. With a deep breathe, trying to steady your nerves just enough. When your eyes close you see that stupid drop of sincerity on Jason's face and nearly lose it all again.

Why the fuck would he care? Why did it matter to him the shitty life you were living?

The pop of the bandage brings a small bit of relief. You get it loose, not properly off, but you drop your head into the wall of the van and take the good deep inhale. You're not far from the door and when you can get the end of the into a solid grasp from the bottom of your sweatshirt, you tap your foot against the door.

Eddie is quick to crawl back inside. "Took you long enough."

"Can you help?"

There's only a pause, long enough for it to be noticable but not long enough for it feel awkward. "Yeah, of course."

You push up, unwinding a bit more and feed it Eddie. It's not awkward, as the two fo you work the bandage around, more and more bit of relief settling for you. The end of the sweatshirt rides up just a little bit nothing revealing.

"What did you mean by it's you? What the hell happene?"

"Shitty week," you return. "I know Jason's probably drunk but--it's just what he asked me."

Eddie's brow quirks in the silent question. You drop your head back into the wall of the van, the bandage all now completely unraveled. You work it slowly back up around itself into a ball. "He asked when my father stopped loving me. And said 'we all know'. And I don't-" your voice cracks, lifting the ace bandage. "I don't know what he's talking about but is it really that obvious? I don't--I'll die if the wrong people ask. Hell, I might die in my own fucking house."

"You're not. You're not going to die, because I swear to God I'm getting us out of this shitty ass town. Where you can be you've always been. Away from your dad. But you're not dying. Not here."

There's so much conviction in Eddie's tone that you want to believe him.

"But he beats me," you choke out.

Eddie had always suspected but when he asked, you always had an excuse. The thing Eddie wouldn't do is beat a dead horse. Perhaps now, the horse has never been more alive. "You're spending the night with me," Eddie declares, "nothing's going to happen tonight."

Because if you're with him nothing will. If you're with Eddie you're not with your dad, and if your dad comes looking there was more in the Munson trailer and though Eddie never likes resorting to violence, the hunting rifle Wayne used to take hunting was something Eddie had gotten used to shooting.

"Only use it when you absolutely need to, son. Humans aren't deer. But if it's you or someone else and I'm not there, you need to come back to me alive."

Perhaps Wayne would allow Eddie the grace to extend the sentiments to you. Because if it's you or someone else, Eddie needs you alive.

"I'm going to keep you alive," Eddie states. "Even if it means forcing you out of your binder kicking and screaming or hauling you off people when you snap, I'm keeping your ass alive."

-H

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson angst #h writes #stranger things

[moa-broke-me]

Survivor's Guilt: a very long percico drabble

Percy graduates from college, after four years of hard work. He celebrates with his friends, his mom, his stepdad and baby sister, his girlfriend... Then he goes home and cries.

And cries,

and cries,

and cries until he runs out of tears. Then he downs a bottle of water and starts crying again.

How could he do this to them? Live a normal life, a happy life, accomplish things and go to parties and eat cake, when some of his closest friends would never be able to do any of those things?

There's a landline in his dorm, which he was allowed one last night's stay in to pack before he was off to the races. They installed landlines in CHB too, but who could he possibly call?

...

A phone rings in cabin thirteen. Thanks to the time difference, it's nearly midnight in New York, and this is one of the precious few nights that he's able to get himself to sleep.

But whoever's calling him... He gets the feeling, down in his gut, that it's important.

So he, begrudgingly, answers. "Hey..." He croaks out, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye. "... Are you good?" Whoever it was on the other side sounded... Distressed. Like they'd been crying.

"Hey, Neeks." Percy? "Um... I don't know why I'm calling you, I just... I don't know. I feel like shit right now, and you've got a lot of experience with feeling like shit. So I thought... I'm sorry, I'll just hang up-"

"No, no, don't... Don't hang up." He didn't want Percy to feel guilty or ashamed for reaching out for help. Even if it was midnight, he still wanted to be there for his friend. Because that's what he was to him now, a friend. A very dear friend, who he used to have feelings for, but that's all in the past now. Obviously, he's got Will now. "What's wrong?"

"I... I don't know. I guess I just... You know the whole graduation ceremony, right?"

"Yeah. I wish I could've been there, but Will was sick, and he needed taking care of. And since he's too proud to get officially checked out by his siblings... Sorry, this isn't supposed to be about me. But is that what you're upset about?"

"No... No, it... It isn't that. It's just... I just couldn't stop thinking about... About everyone. About Silena, and Charlie, and Zoe, and..." ... And Bianca.

He pushed aside the clench in his own heart. "... Survivor's guilt?"

"What?"

"Y'know, when you... Feel bad for... For making it out alive, when other people didn't."

...

He was silent for a moment as something clicked in his head. "Is... Is that what it's called?"

"Yeah..."

He sniffled, he must've sounded pathetic. "... Yeah. Gods, I feel so whiny..."

"Hey, hey, don't do that. Don't start feeling bad for feeling bad. It's ok." His voice was gentle and soothing, and made his heart rate go down immediately. "It's ok, you don't need to feel guilty. You're only human, after all. Well... Figuratively speaking, anyway."

He let out a laugh. "Yeah, I know." Gods, all he wanted was to hear his voice go all soft like that again, to tell him everything was ok, that he was safe, and he didn't need to feel guilty. To feel his bony fingers carding through his hair, his arms cradling his torso. He wanted to be held. By him specifically. He didn't understand why, but something about him was... Special. "... I wish you were here."

...

Something fluttered in his chest. No, no, he's just a friend. "Yeah... Me too. Maybe... Maybe I could shadow-travel?"

"No, I-I don't want you to get all tired." He almost wanted to coo at how concerned he was.

He settled for a silent smile, and a pink blush that would be undetectable under the phone. "I'll be fine, I'm sure of it. I've gone a lot farther, with a lot more to carry. Besides, you..." You sound like you need to be held. Of course, he couldn't say that, it would sound too romantic. "... You seem upset. And I know a phone call isn't the same as being there in person. So... See you there." And with that, he dissolved into the shadows.

...

Seeing Nico appear, sitting cross-legged on his bed, he almost wanted to laugh. He was wearing very expensive-looking satin pajamas, black with white pinstripes and a patch of an anatomically correct heart overlayed right on top of where his actual heart would be. But that wasn't the funny part, the funny part was that the pajamas were about two sizes too big for him, and that his hair was sticking up every which way, almost looking like devil horns.

But his warm, sincere smile was nothing short of angelic. "Hey." He took Percy's hand. "Is there... Anything you need? Anything to eat or drink?"

"Um, I'm good on that thanks. I just... I just need you." He stopped. "Sorry, sorry, that sounded clingy."

"No, it's... Fine." He hesitated. "What do you need me to do?"

He chewed his lip. "Um... Just... Stay with me, please?"

"Ok... Do you... Wanna cuddle?"

"How could you tell?"

He shrugged. "You were holding yourself." He hadn't even noticed that. "Come here." He held his arms out.

Percy hesitated for just a moment. Normally, Nico hates physical contact. Why is he offering it so freely now?

But shortly, that moment disappeared, and he gladly welcomed Nico's embrace. It was a bit awkward with the height difference, but Percy eventually laid down and let Nico lay on top of him. Very suggestive position, he noted detachedly, but they didn't like each other that way, so what did it matter?

He stroked his back and hummed a little. "It's ok. You're ok. You haven't done anything wrong. You... You deserve to move on, to live your life and... And be happy."

Percy could feel his throat getting knotted up again. "They deserved that too."

"I know. And it's not fair that they didn't get to. But they're ok, y'know? They're in elysium, or the stars, or they've been reincarnated and they're somewhere out there as a totally new person, making the best of whatever life they're born into. They're gonna be ok."

"It's not... Just... That they're dead. It's that they died, in so much pain and anguish, some of them hadn't even had their first kiss yet. Some of them died unclaimed. Some of them... Some of them didn't even get a proper funeral."

"They did. Well... Not a proper one, but they got headstones at least. I made sure to that." Nico sighed. "I know, it's still... Bittersweet. But that's the best I can offer. And... And Percy?"

"Yeah?" He croaked out.

"... Look, life might be painful sometimes, but... It can be beautiful too." His fingers ran through his hair as he sat up, tenderly cradling Percy's head in his lap. "You need to treasure it, ok? I know you're going down a bit of a spiral right now, and that's ok. It's ok to feel like shit. But once you're done feeling like shit, you've gotta go back out there and live." He leaned down, cupping his face in his cold, cold hands. "There, now have I made you feel any better? Even just by a tiny bit?"

"Mhm." His face broke into a smile as his arms slung around Nico's waist. "Thank you, I..." I love you. Where was that about to come from? "... Thank you so much, for being such a good friend."

"Anything for you, Jackson." The phrase made blood rush to his face. What was that supposed to mean? Could it be that he... No. No, absolutely not. Not his type, remember? "Is there anything you need? Anything at all. I... I want you to be ok. And I know I won't be able to magically make that happen, but... If there's anything I can do that could help you along with that, I wanna do it."

He sighed in contentment, looking up admiringly at Nico, so sweet, so loving. "Like I said, just... Stay with me. Actually... Do you wanna spend the night?"

...

"I... I don't know. Will may have been fully recovered, or at least insisted he was, earlier today, but I still don't wanna leave him alone in case anything bad happens to him. He... He still needs me."

Percy pouted. He was so cute when he pouted. Wait, what? "I need you too."

"I know... But he wouldn't see it that way. He... Tends to be the jealous type. And although Happy Will is a dream come true, Jealous Will is a nightmare to deal with."

He sat up next to him now. "... Really?"

"Yeah. Even talking with another guy a little too long was enough to set him off. If he found out that I'd gone so far as to shadow-travel all the way here to hang out with you, when he knows I used to have feelings for you, and that I spent the night in your dorm room, all because you called me late at night... He'd be livid."

Percy looked at him skeptically, almost seeming... Concerned. "What does he do when he's set off?"

He shrugs. "He just gets childish and snarky, gives me the cold shoulder. The worst part is that I can't talk him out of it, and if I try, he just doubles down. But... I can't blame him. He's been cheated on before."

"He has?"

He nodded. "Well, maybe cheated is the wrong word. Nothing actually came of it, but she tried to make it happen. You know about Drew, right?"

"Yeah, she uh... Jason told me about her."

He chewed his lip. "... That was his girlfriend."

Percy's jaw dropped. "What? No. I thought he was gay!"

"Bisexual, actually."

"Huh..."

"... Yeah. Anyway... So I get why he has trust issues. I do too. Maybe not the same kind, but trust issues nonetheless. And he's working on them. He's been getting better... And this is gonna really set him back if he finds out about it. So I need to go, right now." He stood up, but his knees were like jelly, and he almost immediately ended up with a mouthful of dirty college dorm carpet. "... Ow..." How did he not realize how weak he was? Maybe because he'd been sitting the entire time.

He heard Percy's deep chuckle behind him. "Ok, that settles it. You're staying with me." He picked him up off the floor, carrying me bridal style. "Hey, maybe we can go get breakfast with Hazel tomorrow morning before we leave for New York."

"Wait... You're driving back to New York for me?"

He shrugged. "I'm already going back. Why not drive you home too? You could definitely use a break from shadow-travel."

He laid Nico in the bed, and he smiled up at him. "Thank you... Why are you going back?"

"Eh, I wanna be with my mom."

"... Huh. I guess I always just assumed that you and Annabeth would get an apartment here right after college."

"Me too." He laid next to him. "But y'know... You're not the only on having relationship issues."

"Oh?"

"Yeah... It's fine. She's fine. She's great, actually. It's just... I don't know. The spark is just... Gone, somehow. And it sucks, and it scares me, because I... I wanna keep loving her. I've got a good thing going, I know I do. I know I'm lucky to have a girl like her. But... Here lately, I just don't really... Feel anything. I'm hoping a little distance will make my heart grow fonder." He sighed and pulled him closer. "... Goodnight, Nico."

And just like that, Nico was out like a light.

#percico #pernico #nicercy #pjo hoo #pjo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #writing #fanfiction

[chaotic-archaeologist]

I'll be on my first dig this coming August (whoop whoop). Aside from the general tips (sun cream, good shoes, clothes for the weather), what are some suggestions you have? (Anything from how to deal with 20+ random people from my uni course who I don't know, being a trans man in the UK heat and figuring out how to dress and deciding whether I should actually try to care about hiding my chest/sports bra straps (if I wear tank tops), what to pack for lunch, etc.) Our dig organiser has literally told us nothing except the dates and times we'll be working, so I am going a little bit insane with trying to plan logistics for myself. (Also having a fun time trying to find steel-toed boots and a new rain jacket....) Sorry for the long ask, I hope you have a lovely day!

Hey there, dirtling! Congratulations on going on your first dig! The good news is that I think I've answered all of your questions before, and you can find those posts on my advice master list. But I'll also take the time to go into more detail about some precautions for trans archaeologists.

Passing: listen, I'm a firm believer that passing is not the end all/be all of trans experience. Some people really really want to pass. Some people don't. That's totally fine. However, in certain settings, passing can be a safety issue—particularly if you're going to a country/area which is less LGBTQ+ friendly. The choice on whether to conceal your methods of binding is entirely yours.

In general, I've found archaeologists to be very accepting, but I would consider keeping things on the DL for a week or so while you get a read on the group and then proceed from there. Is it shitty that you have to worry about that? Yes. Is it a precaution that could help keep you safe/minimize uncomfortable interactions? Also yes. Do what feels best to you.

Binding on a dig: binding is going to put you at higher risk for heat exhaustion and heatstroke. This is a serious concern, and you should do everything you can to minimize the danger. You don't have to tell your supervisor why, but I would recommend letting them know you're sensitive to heat and may need to take breaks to cool off. Heatstroke is one of the biggest occupational hazards for archaeologists, and it shouldn't be taken lightly.

You can also set yourself up for success by getting clothes that will help keep you cool (provided you can afford to do so). I have two pairs of REI's Trailmade Pants, which are expensive but totally worth it. They're incredibly comfortable and breathable, and they've held up to repeated wear and tear. (They also come in a lot of different waist/inseam measurements which is handy for trans guys.) But you cal also totally go to a local sporting/outdoor store and find something similar. Do this for shirts too. Find things that are breathable and that won't trap heat.

Figure out how you're going to wash whatever it is you're using to bind. You are going to sweat. You are going to get gross. You do not want the skin irritation that will come from wearing a dirty binder all the time. Again, if you can afford it, look into getting multiples of your preferred binder so you don't have to worry about doing laundry all the time.

Be aware of the physical limitations that come with binding. This is applicable to any kind of physical exertion, excavation included. Make sure you're taking breaks to breathe properly.

Medications: if you're on HRT, make sure that 1) you have the supply you will need, and 2) have a safe place to administer those medications. Depending on the field school, you could be camping or living in some sort of nearby accommodation. If your HRT requires an injection, scope out a sanitary place to do so. If you need your supervisor's help in ensuring privacy while you do your injection, you don't need to tell them what the injection is for (if you don't want to).

Group dynamics: (this has nothing to do with being trans) being tossed into a group of people that you don't know is always intimidating. But remember, everyone is probably feeling the same way, to varying degrees. Go into things with an open mind and find the people you gravitate towards. There's always going to be someone you don't like on a field crew, and there's nothing you can do about it. Just try to keep contact with that person to a minimum.

Keep your trowel sharp and your heart hopeful, -Reid

#he speaks #archaeology #archaeology advice #trans archaeologist

[alchemania]

"So what are we making ..?"

Wanderer turned to his acquaintance briefly, pulling utensils and bowls and ingredients out of the cabinets. "You like desserts, so I figured we could make a cake." He passed her a bowl then, and a few measuring cups and spoons. "You work on the dry ingredients, and I'll do the wet ones."

"Very well," Furina nodded, beginning her job with gusto- she'd been a little nervous about working together with this guy, having heard from a plethora of folks he had an attitude twice as big as he, but he seemed pretty reasonable as of right now, expression fixed in concentration as he cracked eggs and poured milk into his bowl. "S- so, um, when did you start cooking?"

Wanderer cracked an egg a bit too hard then, stiffening. After a moment, he sighed, picking out a piece of shell that'd fallen in, and tossed it aside. "...a very long time ago. It's been a part of my life almost as long as I can remember. Let's leave it at that."

"Alright...sorry, I didn't mean to hit any sore spots-"

"You couldn't have known," he interrupted, but not unkindly. "It's fine." He gestured with his head to her bowl, eyes firm. "Keep mixing. We need everything to be well blended."

"Okay," she replied, giving a little salute and a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. As she went back to work, Wanderer did as well.

"When did YOU start?"

"Ah, well, mostly after everything was over in Fontaine - I moved out of the opera house you see, and since I was living on my own, I figured I should be more independent. I mostly just cooked macaroni, though.. but it's quite versatile! There's so many different sauces and things you can put in it, so it's fun to um, experiment. But I want to learn more recipes! I've just, been very tired -"

"Of course you have," he butt in again. "...I overheard from Kusanali about some things that went on. Anyone would be tired after that. You don't have to sound apologetic over it. There's nothing to be sorry for. Here, you can put your mixture in now."

But there was plenty to be sorry for, she thought as she began to carefully add her ingredients in. She hadn't been able to save those people in Poisson, her act had been exposed in the 11th hour and everyone had nearly died for it- things did thankfully work out, but what if they hadn't? What if everyone HAD died and everything had all been for nothing and all those tears and silence and isolation had been in vain and -

"Hey, be careful!!"

"Ah-"

Furina's hands were already shaky, and Wanderer's voice startled her out of her trance so badly she flailed a bit, sending everything crashing in a heap to the floor. He fell silent, and the girl's chest heaved. "Sorry," she almost whispered, already welling up. "Here, I'll, help clean it up and then I'll just - go-"

"What for?"

"Well, I ruined the cake....now we have to start all over..it probably would've been really good too, but now we'll never know -" Just like she'd never be able to bring back all those people who died. There wasn't anything she could do. "I can't do anything right," Furina sobbed, scrubbing at her face.

"Woah, hey," Wanderer startled, looking at a loss. "Just - hold on, there's no need to cry."

"Sorry, sorry..."

"Stop apologizing. Come here."

He took her hand then, and guided her around the mess to sit her down in a chair, pulling out a hanky from his pocket and handing it to her. "Wipe your face, and take a breath," he instructed, and she nodded, dabbing at her eyes. "Look. Take it from me. There's a lot of things that looking back, most people wish they could redo, or change. But life isn't like that. You have to go with what you're given, and keep it moving."

A pause.

"..the nice thing about cooking though, is that when you mess up, you can start over," he went on, moving his hands as he talked. "You can try again. And you won't know what you lost tasted like, sure, but you can make something new that's just as good, or even better. It's not the end of the world if you make a mistake. I'm not mad at you, okay? So after you calm down, we can clean everything up, and we can try again. Alright?"

"Okay," Furina sobbed, wiping at her face. "Thank you..."

After a little while, she got up, and with a few more tears and sniffles, everything was cleaned. And they began again, and the cake was carefully placed in the oven. While it baked, Furina carefully sliced fruit into pieces and peeked over Wanderer's shoulder as he made frosting, trying to sneak a taste- he glared at her in answer, and she shrank back, sheepishly giggling. "You can test it when I'm done. Be patient," he huffed, though a little smile flickered on his face.

After the cake was done baking, he handed her the oven mitts, and Furina carefully took the cake out of the oven, eyes glittering at the dessert. "It smells delightful!!"

"You perked up awful quick," he chuckled.

The cake was frosted a little haphazardly, but Furina insisted it gave character - after all, imperfections were a sign of care. After decorating the top with fruit, Wanderer cut the dessert into pieces and Furina took a slice, popping a bite into her mouth. Her eyes lit up immediately, and she danced a little in place, seeming to glow. "That's so good!"

"You can take it home, then."

"You don't want any..?"

"I've never really liked sweets. I helped with this because it's something you wanted to do."

Furina stared for a moment, and then a toothy smile almost split her face.

"What?" Wanderer questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"You're really nice, you know."

The young man froze for a moment, expression soft, and then it fled as quickly as it came, replaced by an rolling of the eyes. "..if you think that, you must not know a lot of people."

"Well, you're very nice to me. And that means a lot." Furina took Wanderer's hand and gently squeezed it, and he stared at it as if it was sentient, bewilderment marring his features. "Could we do this again sometime?? Maybe make something you like?"

"You don't have to -"

"I want to," she assured, expression earnest, and he blinked twice, at a loss.

".. I'll think about it."

"Yaaaaaay! Oh thank you thank you thank you!!!"

"Uh huh," Wanderer replied, trying to keep an air of nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed his joy. "Eat your cake."

After everything was put away and as Furina began to leave, he handed her a slip of paper, and she tilted her head.

"What's this?"

"...it's a recipe for eel chazuke. For next time."

He swore then, the stars were dim in comparison to how her eyes shined.

#furina #wanderer #hello yes i love these two i think they should be friends and heal together #come yell with me #i think wanderer is gentler than he likes to admit and he'd see a lot of himself in furina..yea.. #genshin impact

[sitp-recs]

I just want to pick up a fic where harry isn't needlessly cruel to draco in an attempt to make him worthy of any love because of past canonical events. Especially when draco is painstakingly written to have worked so, so hard to change?I am so tired. And ridiculously triggered because you CAN'T filter these out 😔🙏... How do i refine my reading experience? There are no tags for this. The scenes just lie buried in fics. And i have spent so much TIME getting through long fics only for draco to be treated so poorly. It's such a common occurence! Or harry doing something really fucked up without consequence and draco being so accepting because he feels guilt. Like a casual use of veritaserum and then asking really invasive questions outside of what they agreed to be asking each other in what was supposed to be a safe space for the both of them. Or harry just sometimes casually being violent or angry in a way not necessarily part of the narrative... it's just something he does?

I'm not averse to harry with anger and trauma, this is why Balance, Imperfect, Heal Thyself, and A Sword Laid Aside are such treasured reads to me. It's just that they make sense...

So much of the fandom's fics will have something like this... like a really crude violation of draco's boundaries in popularly "wholesome" fics as a stepping stone for the romance. As them getting to know each other? But it really isn't that though... is it.I'm sorry, it's just NOT my thing. I don't know how to filter such things out. How do i keep a respectful distance away from such fics?

I respect the catharsis people find and seek with such scenes and pieces!! They're perfectly valid. I used to be just fine with such a relationship dynamic because they are undeniably good reads. And again, cathartic to see draco on the other end of the stick. But life just happens and somethings i can't enjoy anymore. I just don't know how I'm supposed to navigate my way around them.

Do you have authors that write these two with a more balanced perspective? Or maybe fics that deal with their hurt and pain and trauma with consideration but doesn't end up feeling like either harry or draco have to hurt the other more?

Also, l think you're one hell of an archivist and librarian when it comes to fics. Do you have any tips on how i can find the stories for me and peacefully navigate the ocean of fiction within the drarry tag?

Hi anon! I think I’ve received a shorter version of this ask a while ago but can’t for the life of me find my response so I’m not sure if I’ve already done a specific rec list for you. I love those long fics you mentioned, they all have excellent character arcs.

I totally understand where you’re coming from because I share the sentiment - and I’m pretty sure I know which fic you’re referring to re: the invasive Veritaserum scene. I’m sorry you’re having a rough time trying to filter those scenes out. As you said, they’re buried deep within the fics and to be honest I don’t think there’s an easy way to tag them, because characterization is very subjective and creators might see this topic differently. I might not come off as someone picky because I read and rec lots of stuff but I’m particularly sensitive when it comes to emotional imbalance in fic - I don’t enjoy characters being mean for the sake of it or taking advantage of another character written as meek/pitiful, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth so I try to avoid those if I can. Now I think about it, this might be one of the reasons why I’ve shifted away from long “redemption arc” fics and have been reading more “friends to lovers” and shorts recently, as I find them more emotionally satisfying. Hmm 🤔

Unfortunately I can’t offer any tips in terms of tag filtering - I think that would be extremely difficult and frustrating, especially if you find it triggering. If I were in your shoes I’d solely rely on rec lists made by people in whom I trust and crated within those parameters. Or just avoid the redemption arc altogether and focus on fics where they’re already in friendly terms? I wish I could help more because even a rec list would eventually end and chances are you’ve already read all the ones I have in mind. Let’s see if my followers have any interesting tips that might be helpful in this situation!

PS: some author suggestions I can think off the top of my head are firethesound, tackytiger, blamebrampton, Writcraft, thestarryknight, bixgirl, astolat, Omi_Ohmy, aibidil, shiftylinguini

#asks #anon #drarry