#what i hope their expressions communicate:

[kinardscoffee]

Sorry in advance for the length—

It’s not lost on me that a lot of those complaining about Buck & Tommy’s relationship, their dynamic, and the way they communicate— like Buck flirting about daddy issues instead of having a serious conversation about Tommy’s poor relationship with his father or Tommy returning that energy in kind— are not queer men or men-aligned or adjacent. And many of them are— I dunno— projecting, I guess, what they would want from a man in a relationship, if they were in this relationship.

This is why so many of their analyses include comments about what’d be a dealbreaker for them or what they’d rather see in a partner for them or how they, as a non-man, are turned off by X-Y-Z things men do or say, but in a relationship with a non-man. It all completely ignores that 1.) neither man is a self-insert, and 2.) these complainers would never be a party in this relationship because they aren’t men or men-aligned or adjacent. They aren’t just forgetting that Buck isn’t a self-insert, but that he is a man, Tommy is also a man, and they are into each other because they’re both men. Their dynamic and their relationship is different than the dynamic and relationship between a man and a non-man.

Not being queer men (or men aligned or adjacent) is coloring their interpretation of Buck & Tommy’s relationship, leading to critical— and homophobic— misinterpretations of their dynamic. For example, I bet NONE of them understand that, anymore, “daddy” is so wide spread, it isn’t inherently a sexual term or inherently related to kink. Among a lot of queer men today, a “daddy” generally or usually just refers to an attractive older gay man. Yes, it commonly is used to refer to an older gay man who might support, mentor and/or sleep with younger or newer men entering the community, but, anymore, that is not inherently or always so. The term “daddy” and the use of “daddy” is also not inherently used to refer to kink as they’ve all assumed (not to mention kink is not inherently or always sexual). Yes, it may be used to refer to one half of a BDSM daddy/boy dynamic, but— again— that is not inherently or always so. Fuck— there are guys who use it as a term of endearment and that alone. Like… the term as it’s used in popular vernacular today made the jump over from leather subculture, but its use also no longer inherently refers to leather daddies. Before its use in leather subculture, the word and similar words as a term for a man in a romantic partnership was a feature of AAVE. It then made the jump into queer vernacular through black queer men, and was used to challenge prominent ideas of masculinity by appropriating symbols of masculinity as aspects of gay sexuality.

“Daddy” does not mean the same thing to queer men as it does to them, but they are interpreting the word as if it does.

Tommy’s line did not inherently mean he hopes Buck wants to call him “daddy” during sex. It absolutely did not mean that he hopes Buck’s trauma gave him a daddy kink. There are so many interpretations of this scene, but none of the complainer’s interpretations are queer-competent interpretations because they aren’t queer men (or man aligned or adjacent). 1.) Tommy is an “older” gay man. That’s it. 2.) Buck wants to call Tommy daddy— maybe sexually (related to kink or not) or maybe just for shits and gigs or maybe as a form of endearment— and Tommy expressed he is on board. 3.) Buck has a daddy kink (sexual or not), was expressing this to his boyfriend, and his boyfriend expressed that he’d be into it. 4.) Tommy is continuing to deflect from discussing his own daddy issues. 5.) Tommy was expressing that he hopes that Buck, a man new(er) to the community, wants to romantically and sexually be with a man who is older than him. 6.) Tommy was turning Buck’s banter about daddy issues into one about age. 7.) The conversation was simply setting up Buck & Tommy’s season 8 arc. 8.) All of the above.

“I don’t like it—” “I think it’s gross—” Well, congrats! It’s not for y’all! Now stop judging a romantic and sexual relationship between two fictional men by what y’all personally would want irl and how y’all personally would feel as a non man in a irl relationship with one of these fictional men. This isn’t y’all’s fave fanfiction trope or AU or self-insert; it’s not gonna cater to y’all’s tastes and preferences. If y’all don’t like the characters and y’all don’t like the character-driven plot because y’all are not seeing two men kiss in the way y’all prefer, then stop watching. Please. Stick to AO3 and fanfiction and your non-canon ship if y’all are so miserable.

Like, yeah, I bet y’all wouldn’t interact with a man that way, y’all wouldn’t converse with a man that way, y’all wouldn’t want a man to talk to y’all that way, y’all wouldn’t banter with a man that way, y’all wouldn’t be attracted to a man that way, y’all wouldn’t want a man to like y’all that way, y’all wouldn’t flirt with a man that way, y’all wouldn’t want a man to flirt with y’all that way, y’all wouldn’t date a man that way, y’all wouldn’t have dinner with a man that way, y’all wouldn’t want a man that way, and y’all wouldn’t fuck a man that way because y’all aren’t queer men (or man aligned or adjacent), y’all aren’t Evan Buckley, and— whether y’all want to believe it or not— an mlm relationship ain’t about y’all.

—sincerely, a queer man who saw a post where the OP said they’d STONE (“pelt him with rocks until he dies”) Tommy if he ever made a daddy issues joke on a date with them because they don’t like when men view women’s trauma as something they can exploit for sex…

I’m also convinced none of these individuals have ever been in an adult relationship, because how is that a proportional response? And the homophobia of stoning a gay man? You cannot separate this from the character’s context: he’s a gay man. Like hello??? Also, what a terrible way to bring up a very real and serious issue for women just to try and invalidate two fictional men’s attraction to each other. Plus… neither Buck or Tommy were exploiting one another; you are inadvertently suggesting queer men prey on men.

Uhm... don't ever fucking apologize for this!

I'm honored that you shared this with me, and now everyone can read this and hopefully take something away from it 💙

#911 abc #bucktommy #911 fandom #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #911 fandom discourse #anon 🩵

[lifeonmarz-blog]

“IT GIRL” natal alignments

an attractive young woman who is perceived to have both sex appeal and a personality that is especially engaging.

Moon/Venus The emotional world is expressed in a pleasing way. You understand what a person needs without them having to communicate it with you. Very expressive with love nature your ok with expressing it to the world.

Mercury/Venus *Major Indicator* This is the most common aspect with popular attractive women. People relate to you through the way you communicate. They love to hear you talk even if it’s about basic things. Watching your social media just to see what your up too. This placement gives you a sexy rememberable voice.

Sun 10th Your personality is easier to read your view points may be more agreeable to the mass so it’s easier to create relationships. You enjoy being likable and agreeable. You know how to present yourself in a way that will get the best desired results. It may also be very easy for you to get jobs people may feel like they know you even if they don’t.

Sun/Asc loves being the center of attention and people enjoy giving you the attention. This aspect makes a person come across as very interesting with a busy life. People enjoy being around you because of your childlike bubblyness that just expresses whatever you want when you want. Others feel more confident being around you because of the confidence you exude.

Sun/pluto polarizing, magnetic and alluring is how I would describe this. Others have a curiosity about you. You may keep a lot of your thoughts and personal life to yourself and people pay attention to your life closing because they want to learn things about you. Everyone listens when you speak because you probably stay to yourself and don’t contribute in group conversations as much as others. The real appeal here comes from people not being able to have access to you.

Sun/neptune giving hope to the hopeless. You see the bright side to anything and make for a great person to share with. You listen and give the best advice you can. Your mind is very creative and others love when you share your visions with them. You can provide many creative solutions to problems.

Asc in libra you enjoy a simple life living the lap of luxury you prefer to keep a light hearted nature. You’re like a spa in human form.

Asc in Sagittarius you make the plans for your friend group because you know how to create the fun. Others love your spontaneity and ability to make friends with anyone. You have the gift of gab and it’s very charming.

Asc in Aquarius you’re really funny in a random who thinks of that kind of way. You don’t mind bluntly telling the truth and you shock others by doing that. People view you as someone that doesn’t mind sharing the information you know. You’re willing to try anything once and it’s inspiring.

Asc in Pisces you can adapt to any environment. You know how to connect with many types of people so you attract a lot of opportunities to you. The way you express your emotions has an addictive quality about it. Attracting people with your rawness in emotion or expressing emotions in a creative way. You know what to say to soften anger in others.

Moon in cancer your caring nature is easily felt. People feel at home around you. You know how to make others feel welcomed. You don’t put much pressure on others on how to behave and that allows them to drop their guard with you and just be.

Moon in Virgo reliability is a virtue you have. Reliability builds the foundation to long lasting relationships because trust is so important. You hold support to a high regard and that allows you to build sturdy relationships and that’s make people want to offer you the same support in return.

Moon in Capricorn being blunt and bout your business is what wins people over. Its refreshing to hear someone speak their mind so freely. You accomplish goals you never speak on and people are amazed when they see what you've been creating behind closed doors. This placement also gives clean girl aesthetic. Also you probably love black clothing.

Moon in Pisces Dreamy ofc, with a quirky sense of humor. You don't mind laughing at yourself so its easy for people to let their guard down around you. You look approachable and usually are. There is so many ideas in your head and people love to hear them. Your very self motivated and it rubs off on the people around you. Because you don't have ulterior motives and its easy to see in you, its very easy for you to make friends quickly.

Venus in 9th Redefining what love looks like, you may be unconventional in expressing the way you love but it cant be denied that you do love. People admire the way you can blend in with many different groups. When you travel people can wonder how you got to have certain experiences in a country you just got to.

Venus 10th You meet traditional beauty standards. Being conventionally attractive brings in attention from a mass amount of people. People love the way you dress and copy your outfits. This is the girl that is saved in a lot of Pinterest boards.

Venus in 11th Popularity comes to you easily. People see you and want to be your friend. Venus hear gives you the gift of gab. Your voice is disincentive and draws people in. You come across friendly and bubbly full of energy and fun.

Venus in 12th Mystery is how you captivate. People unconsciously try to get your love and attention. Your personal life is private and people feel like you live a interesting secret life, rather that's true or not its assumed and they want to get close to you because they see not a lot of people can. They want to know what happens in your world.

How many did you have?

#astrology #12th house #astrology101 #astrologyfacts #8th house #astrologychart #astrologyzone #astro notes #pluto astrology #pluto aspects #venus astrology #capricorn moon #libra moon #pisces moon #virgo moon

[grind-pantera]

koba x reader pls pls he doesn't get enough love compared to caesar

We love 1 ( One ) Bonobo on this Blog. I really hope this is good, I'm the worst with trying to pick apart new characters to write for AAAA.

Title: End Of Day. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: ( Slightly, just a tease haha. ) Implied Koba x Reader. Words: 3K+ ( How? I don't know don't ASK ME. ) Rating: T ( Mentions of aggression, animal abuse. ) Summary: Your favorite thing to do? Annoy Koba. ( I am bread crumbing here. Someone eat my bread crumbs and ask for MORE. )

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Koba was sure to make sure you knew your place. From the moment you stepped into the Colony, with every move you gave, every word you either said or signed, every breath you took was accounted for, almost painstakingly so. It wasn’t your fault you were found by Caesar’s army, half dead and dragged back, nursed to health by some lovely Chimps wearing intricate face masks, that in your heated haze of injury, looked remarkably like medical masks.

It wasn’t your fault that Caesar offered you refuge after you explained the circumstances that left you almost dead; you were turned on by your fellow group of Humans for expressing the opinion that maybe… The Apes were not so bad, maybe they were just trying to survive much like you all were. Bad choice of opinion to have in a group of people who were terrified of the sun. Rather than just letting you out with you opinions, they ended up beating you to a bloody pulp, taking all the things you had scavenged for, and left you in the woods. Fear made Humanity turn against itself, and that was your clear cut example. 

So, that’s how you found yourself where you sat. Perched rather comfortably in front of the fire of the Colony, taking in grace the way that the flames roared in front of you. You could see Caesar and Maurice from your position, signing away without any caution. What were they talking about? You had no idea, the heat from the fire resulted in the warping of the air around you and the signing looked blurred. You had just wrapped dinner up, enjoying the regular assortment of Fall dishes.

Some fish, an Elk caught by Caesar’s hunting party earlier in the day, more nuts than there were berries; just a circumstance of the weather. All things you enjoyed, but not as much as you enjoyed antagonizing your favorite Bonobo. Tilting your head at that thought, you took a moment to glance around the Colony. Speaking of the devil, Koba was nowhere in sight. He usually sat himself along with Caesar and company for meals, taking in some refuge to talk about strategies about the human camps that were too close to the Colony. Koba always suggested just attacking. Caesar always shot him down.

Koba would then look at you like Caesar’s reasoning was solely your fault. You’d stare back at him, unnerved and knowing that if he were to do anything to suggest harm to you, Caesar’s fist would come down on him again. Metaphorically, of course. Apes together are strong, apes do not kill apes. 

If you could record the interactions between Caesar, Koba and yourself, it would make for some good Reality TV. You laughed at that to yourself, knowing that no one else around you was going to understand unless you explained in detail what you were talking about. You had patience for many things, but explaining brain-rotting TV to the Colony was not on your bingo-card, at least this evening.

Shifting your body just a bit, you pulled the sleeves of your shirt down to encase your forearms and let your eyes trail back around so you were looking at Caesar and Maurice again. The Orangutan must have noticed your stare, giving you a slight gesture with the move of his head. Smiling at him, you fell pensively into the flames in front of you and how they moved. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to do when you were by yourself, when Koba wasn’t around. He was seated drama for you, and at least you got the pleasure of communicating verbally when with him, even if it was all aggression and arguments. You recalled in almost vivid detail your first spark of aggression from him. It wasn’t the absolute mad-dog stares he gave you when you finally emerged from the medic portion of the Colony. Or when you sat for the first communal dinner, not sure of the etiquettes. You imagined he complained to Caesar the entire dinner about your mere presence. Oh, no no. He avoided you deviously then, and tried his best to do that going forward. Out of sight, out of mind for Koba though he admittedly found himself a bit obsessed with the hatred he had for you. It was all humans, but now it was streamlined to just you for the time being. 

You were placed in a delicate situation of circumstances. The streamline had to have started when you accidentally mistook him for a Chimpanzee. The absolute animosity as he went off the rails, telling Caesar things like how stupid you were to not know the difference, how you didn't belong there, how you were too human for any of them and needed to know your place and that Caesar needed to do something about you before you tore down the Colony with ignorance. 

It was an honest mistake, you tried to explain in the moment. It wasn’t your fault once again that… Chimpanzees and Bonobos looked remarkably similar. The only times you had seen either were in Zoos when your were a child! Koba did not look too kindly on either and absolutely tore into you in broken English and a few signs at the mention of a Zoo falling from your lips. A place, to him in his resolute mind, that meant nothing but torture and was just a means to keep them in cages, away from actually experiencing life, only getting glimpse from the hands of humans. He hated it, he hated how loosely you had talked about it. He hated you. You were tentative to leave the conversation, more offended than anything at the fact that he got angry at your ignorance and didn't even offer the chance for you to explain yourself or apologize. 

You apologized to Caesar later that night after dinner, who took the apology as sincere and who gave you a bit of insight about Koba as a piece of mind; sensing that maybe you needed the information to make your own judgment about his friend and not just ones based on pretenses. The years he spent in facilities after what happened with his mother and caretaker from the TV stunt he did. He was literally being tortured again and again at the expense of Humanity's gross negligence and sadistic curiosities. Caesar explained his scars - all of them against his arms, legs, his face and his eye. 

With each word the Ape King told you, your heart sank a bit more in empathy. No creature, as nefarious as Koba acted or not, deserved such things and it opened a door for you to be a bit more accepting and understanding that his bias towards Humans, towards you, were rooted in deep fear and alienation. Caesar told you to never take what Koba said to heart, Koba was bred to fear, bred to run from any notion that Humans could be good and nothing you were going to do or say would save him from that. You nodded in quite understanding to Caesar. 

And that’s how you fell into your enjoyment of annoying him. You had tried to be kind to him multiple times with no avail, each time mentally beating yourself up at the fact that Caesar had warned you that goodwill was not going to be reciprocated or appreciated. So, you began to give it back to him just as hard as he gave to you. It was a fun game, most of the time. Koba usually got caught by your bitter remarks towards him and he’d stand down before aggression really bubbled to the surface and he’d do something to garner the wrath of Caesar. Instead, you opted into the enjoyment of staring at each other during breakfast, mid-day meals when they happened, and dinner. You found it mildly endearing the way that he complained to Caesar that things around the Colony were starting to smell like humans. Starting to smell like you. 

You chuffed at that and smelled your sleeve. It smelt like the creek you washed it in. You had no idea what that comment was about. You were just as smelly as the rest of them, actually more than you really cared to admit, for your own tastes but that was down to the Simian Flu taking the advantages of showers and soap from you. If he was going to say something mean, he needed to do it about something you had no control over and that’s how you ultimately kept yourself rather level headed in the game you had going with Koba. He took offense to your personal issues without really knowing the deeper meaning, if there even was one.

Every step you took was full of intent to Koba. Every blink you had was full of malice to Koba. Every breath you made was just the worst to Koba. It meant you were still alive. All everyday activities were scrutinized, and you just had to laugh at that. How much he despised you to the point of obsession. You’d joke around with him and imply that maybe he didn't hate you, that maybe he actually really liked you, but that was taking it a bit too far and you wondered if that was going to be the straw to break the camel's back, to get him to actually lurch at you out of defense. The sun had set at least half an hour ago, your back now feeling the chill as the brisk air of the ocean came rolling over the land. Always at the same time of day during the Fall, always right at bed time and you found yourself wrapped in many pelts just to cope. Maybe he got busy, you thought to yourself and began willing your body to get enough energy tohead back to the nest that Caesar was so gracious to offer you for as long as you wanted to stay. A voice absolutely tore you from whatever state of consciousness you were floating around in, reminiscing about when you arrived, thinking longingly about the things you left behind from the Flu… Whatever they said, you made the assumption that they were not talking to you. Why would they? You were just minding your own little--- Ah, the voice spoke again, you noticed the gruff nature, the harshness inflicted into each of the words. Koba. And he was asking you what you were still doing out, sitting by the fire. You really had no excuse and looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow at wonderment at where he had been for dinner. You had no entertainment.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear what you’re asking me over your loud breathing sounds.” You were referencing the huffing he often had around you, the anger palpable from his body at the release of your comment. He sauntered towards you, your internal primal instinct being that of fear but you just peered up at him when he was right next to you, arms apart in defense, legs holding himself to look larger, more intimidating. It surely worked, the gait he used coming towards you put your heart into a skip and it felt like it was sitting in your throat with realization.

You’d never been alone with Koba- you always had your buffer. Caesar, usually, had the easiest time taking his friend down from the ledge, but Maurice has taken his due diligence, as well as Blue Eyes when Koba said something about you he didn't agree with, who very much like his father, told you not to take anything Koba said about you seriously. “Caesar…” You narrowed your eyes as he began to speak, already aware that his one good eye was more than good enough to see you in impeccable detail despite the only light source being from the bonfire that was slowly dying. “Has you waiting for Koba?” “I’m honored you think I’m waiting for you.” Rolling your eyes at the audacity of his statement, you stood up. He was only an inch or so taller than you when he was bi-pedal, but the fact that he was pure muscle as compared to your very slinky form of human was enough to give you a slight pause as you considered sizing him up teasingly. He’d probably think it was a real threat from you and tear your face off. Quickly, you decided against it and muttered to him, “Move. I want to go to sleep.” He didn't. You sighed, rolling your eyes again and tried to move past him but with every step you took to the side, he followed suit. You didn't have any excuse to wait for him by the fire--- IF!! That was what you were doing, which it definitely was not. You simply lost track of time and didn't move. Good justification, you patted yourself on the back and looked at the Bonobo in front of you.  A part of your heart shifted. You had been close to him plenty of times, usually when he charged at you before Caesar had to tell him to back off. But, now, this close and without any movements, you really got a good look at his face and how… How almost sad he looked. 

The scarring on his face against his natural skin was jarring, so bleak and faded from years, his bad eye was ghosted with white but you swore it was looking right into yours with the intensity of his gaze. The fragment of empathy you always had towards him surfaced. You felt a tiny urge to reach up and lightly trace th--- Oh my GOD what were you thinking? You blinked that thought right out of your mind and stared at him again, focusing on the expression of his face rather than the minute details. It was perpetually as grumpy as ever, his expression. But it was often capsized by a look of anger or annoyance, depending on how he felt that. Anger when you said or did something stupid, annoyance when you were just hanging around for no reason. In this case? A little bit of both, but more annoyance. Swallowing softly, you felt your fingers twitch as Koba’s gaze pierced you like a thousand knives.. “Why are you so late?” You muttered finally, your breath expanding onto his face from the mere proximity. Koba scoffed at you, now returning you the absolute pleasure of having his breath in your face before dropping to all fours and heading to the left to pick some food before bed. Your eyes followed his movements, always mean and hard, but maybe that’s just how he felt he needed to hold himself after what he had been through. “Not… Human business.” That was a fair and valid point, and in most instances, you would leave it alone but you decided to push, having not gotten enough stimulation from him during the day. “Well, we really missed your cheery attitude. I had to eat all by myself, no Koba staring longingly at me.” There was sarcasm leaking through every pore of your being. Koba bit into an apple; his canines shone in the light of the flames of his action. The bite he took was large, chewing just as roughly as he had bitten into the fruit. “Had... things to do.” “Like what? Bring me with you next time so I can start to annoy you on your outings. I get bored here.” Koba growled ever so slightly. He didn't like being questioned by anyone, especially by you. It felt oddly like an interrogation. And the suggestion? He’d rather gouge out his other eye than take you with him, anywhere. Well, not that… He’d take you with him. If it meant he could beat you to an inch of your life, his fists taking relished silence in how they’d crush your ribs, how they’d beat you to submit to him, how he’d bring your face closer by holding your hair and make you admit all your ignorant human mistakes. Submit, submit! That idea lingered in his brain before he forced it back out. No, no. He did not want you to submit like you had submitted to Caesar, a topic of conversation that Koba did not enjoy. A topic of conversation that Caesar denied, being in any sort of advancements with you, being intimate with you. Koba was just making accusations to get you to go away. 

“No.” You tilted your head at his answer, the fact that he didn't give you anything snappy in return like he so often did before he turned, picking a few more pieces of fruit up and trailed away. You watched him in shattered silence. He had to be up to something, you figured as his figure disappeared into the darkness, towards the nest he had made for himself so many years ago. You wanted to follow out of loneliness, now left to your own devices for the rest of the night but you stopped yourself. He’d probably bark at you for following… Tell you to back off, maybe even snarl at you in the typical Koba fashion. But, he wouldn’t do anything, Caesar would make sure of it. He’d sit in petulant aggravation as you bothered him about the details of your day. You thought about that and weighed your options. A few seconds later, your feet were pattering on the ground as you followed him, talking once Koba was in range of your hearing. You could see his shoulder tense, figuring he was out of the woods with your relentless chattering. He never understood that about humans, how absolutely grating the small talk was. In fact, Koba sometimes took solace in the mere idea of ripping your lips off. Then you couldn’t talk back, couldn’t ask him things, couldn’t address him. He liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot. He didn't bother to turn towards you as you trailed next to him, Koba’s feet taking him a few steps ahead of you. He’d refuse to walk side by side with you as he took to leading.

 “Seriously though--- Where were you today?” Koba growled in frustration at the sound of your voice. Yes. Very, very annoying the concept of small talk with humans. With you.

#koba #koba x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kopota #planet of the apes x reader

[meazalykov]

water won't hurt you

lena oberdorf x curlyheaded!reader

summary: lena will get her girlfriend to go into the water, one way or another

warnings: none

in ibiza, you are lounging on a comfortable sunbed. the summer gave you the chance to relax from the hard-work that came from being a footballer. 

soaking in the rays in your favorite swimsuit, you wore a wide-brimmed hat shielding your face from the intense sun. it was a random navy blue yankees hat from back home. 

the ocean wasn’t too far away from you, in fact it was just twenty feet ahead. however, you would go in the water if the water stayed at waist-height. 

your thoughts drifted to your hair every time you had to surround yourself in a beach or pool setting. in the soccer/football community, you're known for your perfectly straightened hair, a far cry from its natural 3b curly state. 

you spent hours last night with the straightener, making sure that it looked good for the beautiful day out in ibiza, and the last thing you want is for it to get wet and revert to its original form.

beside you, your girlfriend lena is a picture of carefree joy. her laughter rings out as she has her hands directly above her eyes trying to watch a tiktok on the phone. she is lying beside you, so you can see the tiktok of a random baby waving their hand in the air. 

in the epitome of summer relaxation, you smiled at your girlfriend’s laughter as you ran your fingers through her soft brown colored hair. over two years ago, you fell in love with lena when she was playing at wolfsburg and you were at bayern. your love has only grown since then. you fell for her first, she fell for you harder. its obvious since she is leaving wolfsburg to be closer to you. 

after turning her phone off– lena glances at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief through the sun rays. “baby, we should go over there,” she says, pointing at an area where a bunch of adults layed. you didn’t have a chance to speak before she stands up and brushes off the sand from her legs.

you stood up, slipping on your sandals and following her along the winding path by the shore. you guys didn’t grab your stuff on the sand because you guys are coming right back according to lena. 

the salty breeze feels refreshing on your soft skin, but you’re constantly aware of how close the water is. you hoped that last-night's hair routine wouldn’t go down the drain. 

as you turn a corner, following your girlfriend, a breathtaking sight greets you. there was a small cliff that juts out into the turquoise water. it wasn’t a huge area but it's a perfect spot for a dive, and you can see a few people already enjoying the thrill of jumping into the clear inviting sea by diving in themselves.

lena’s eyes light up as she stops just five feet before the edge.  “i’m going to jump in, come in with me” she exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes as she holds her hand out for you to grab.

you feel a twinge of anxiety. “um– i don’t think so, lena. i don’t want to get my hair wet,” you reply, glancing nervously at the water. 

lena narrows her eyes, giving you a look you know all too well. “oh, come on! just this once? water will not hurt you or your beautiful hair.” she pleads, stepping closer to the edge of the cliff as she gave you her signature smirk.

you shake your head, backing away. “no way! you know how long it takes to straighten my hair sweetheart, I don’t want to go through that again.”

lena sighs, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “you shouldn't be worried about your hair love. you should to live a little.”

you cross your arms, standing firm. “i don’t know lena. I don’t want to do this.”

lena takes a step closer, her playful expression turning into that suspicious look you know all too well. “are you sure about that?” she asks, her voice lowering conspiratorially.

your eyes widen as you see her take another step. your eyes widen and you step back as you realize what she’s planning. “lena, no!” you shout, taking another step back.

before you can make a run for it, lena is already moving. you take off, sprinting down the rocky path, but she’s too quick. as a footballer, you’re faster in speed but her strength is no match to you. in a few swift strides, she catches up, scooping you up effortlessly in her arms.

“baby, no, please! don’t!” you squeal, struggling half-heartedly to get out of her arms as she laughs.

“too late!” she exclaims, holding you tightly as she approaches the edge of the cliff. after a few steps– she leaps off the cliff, holding you tightly. the world seems to pause for a moment as you’re suspended in mid-air, and then you’re plunging into the cool, blue water. 

when you surface, gasping for breath– thanking god that you know how to swim– you look down at your hair that stops right by your chest. your hair is soaked, the carefully straightened strands already starting to curl. 

you glare at lena, who’s grinning from ear to ear, her laughter infectious as she swims towards you.

“you’re mean,” you say, splashing her playfully. she holds you by your waist in the water as you wrap your legs around her torso. pretending to be mad, you pouted as she laughed.

“you still love me though.” she replies, her voice softening. you smile, knowing she is correct. 

you can’t help but smile, the warmth of her embrace and the beauty of the moment making you forget about your hair, at least for now. “i do love you,” you say, leaning in to kiss her.

lena smiles against your lips, her eyes twinkling as she pulls away. “I love you too and i’m sorry– but this was the only way i’d get you in here with me– come on, let’s swim a bit. ” she says, pulling your body along with hers as she starts swimming around.

you laugh, understanding that you couldn’t be mad at your love for this. “alright, alright, you’re forgiven. but you have to redo my hair later!”

“you should leave it curly baby--- its beautiful-- however ill do it tonight if you want.” lena smirks, you nodded your head and blushed in response. 

lena’s grin widens at your blush before she lets your body go. she splashes water playfully in your direction and you gasp in shock, “oh it's on!” you say as you swim to chase your fleeing girlfriend. 

<3

#lena oberdorf #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #bayern frauen #vfl wolfsburg women #vfl wolfsburg frauen #gerwnt #dfb frauen

[grimm-writings]

YIPPEE YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN can i get a scenario where chilchuck slowly falls in love with a gender fluid reader? maybe he’s confused about their presentation at first, but then finds himself attracted to their masc and fem sides :0

two sides of the same coin

…ft! chilchuck x genderfluid! reader

…tags! fluff, end of manga spoilers, implied bisexual chilchuck, the mortifying ordeal of having to explain your identity to someone not in the know

…wc! 935

…notes! this request makes me so happy, because i’m also genderfluid!!! i’ll be using primarily my own experiences with my gender here, so i hope it’s to your liking! happy pride month!!! <3 

“So, you’re… everything.”

“Yes! I guess you can say that.  Although it’s more like it varies.”  Your hands move in the air to communicate your point.  “Sometimes I’m a girl, sometimes a boy.  But I’m also sometimes both, or sometimes neither!  Or maybe I’m partially a girl and partially neither, or I’m partially a boy and partially neither.  And then, on the rare occasion, I am everything!”

You can only watch in real time as Chilchuck slowly loses brain cells.  You’d fear that he may not be able to readily accept you, same as the rest of your party.  The reaction was positive enough (though Marcille and Senshi particularly need time to adapt properly) but there’s still lingering confusion.

Chilchuck slowly nods, though you can tell he isn’t exactly grasping it yet.  “So… What am I meant to call you?”

He’s trying to keep his language respectful.  That’s more than you can say for others you came out to.  You can tell Chilchuck is trying, even if this is unfamiliar ground for him.  He might know enough about different romantic and sexual preferences, and maybe more simple means of gender transition.  Your identity is… hard to explain to someone not in the know, though.

“Just ask,” you reply.  “I might have some indicators in clothing that could help.  Like…”  You gesture towards your current outfit.  “I’m presenting pretty masculine at the moment, yeah?”

“Yeah…” You don’t miss how Chilchuck eyes you up and down.  “So I should keep an eye out for how you dress?”

“Precisely!”  You snap your fingers into a point at Chilchuck’s face.

“Don’t do that.”

You drop your hand.  “Sorry.”

Chilchuck leans back on his seat, folding his arms over his chest.  If he was being honest, this only makes his heart confused.  He was already more used to you presenting masculine throughout your dungeon crawl.  You did express occasional disdain for your current dress, but can’t do much about it.  That in of itself made him wonder if he liked guys.  Now you’re saying you’re a girl sometimes?  Or neither?  Or everything?  He can’t even imagine you in a dress without his mind screaming at him in embarrassment.

You take in Chilchuck’s expression.  Brow furrowed, clearly trying to process your explanation.  He’s definitely accepting of it, just confused.  If there was a way you can explain it better to him…

An idea flashes through your mind with an “ah!”

Chilchuck perks up at your sudden yelp, blinking.  “Something the matter?  Wh– Hey, what are you doing?!”

You had practically scampered on all fours to where your travel bags were, digging around for something.  A few seconds pass before… “GOT ONE!”

Returning to Chilchuck’s side, you hold up one of the gold coins in… someone’s possession.  The half-foot cocks an eyebrow at it.  “What’re you getting at here?”

“This coin is still the same coin when it’s flat in my hand like this,” you begin, before flipping it over.  “Or when it lands on tails.”

Chilchuck watches as you place the coin on your thumb, and flip it up into the air only to let it land randomly, 50/50 chance each time.

“I can’t control whether it lands on heads or tails.  Sometimes it does something really peculiar and stands on its side, or it’s on a slant in some way.”

You watch as the gears turn in Chilchuck’s mind.  “So you can’t really control how your gender works, sometimes you just… feel a certain way?”

“Exactly!  My dysphoria – that’s the term for feeling uncomfortable – can fluctuate, but it’s still the same coin.  It’s still…”

“It’s still you,” Chilchuck finishes, turning his head to look up at you with understanding finally brightening in his eyes.  You can’t help but fluster a little.

It’d be a while since then until you’d make it back to the surface.  Everyone is as accommodating as ever to use the right pronouns when you tell them what for.  It soon comes naturally to just let you live as you are.  It’s welcoming and warm with everyone.

A nice spring breeze blows through your skirt as you make your way down to the entrance of the forest where the feast takes place.  You can spot your party from a mile away, your boots hitting the dirt path as you run over.

“Leave some for me!”  You exclaim in greeting, causing your friends to turn their heads.  Marcille gasps in wonder as she takes in your appearance, meanwhile Izutsumi makes a small noise in surprise.

Chilchuck is stunned into silence, and you can just tell the tips of his ears are going red before he keels over and spits out his drink onto the grass.  “W-What are you wearing?!”

“A dress, Chilchuck,” you quip back, sitting in between him and Marcille.  “Laios still being harassed by Yaad and the rest?”

“Hang on, we’re not moving on from this so fast!  Let me look at you!”  Marcille adjusts herself so she can inspect your look.  “I didn’t think you’d suit a dress so well!  Where’d you get that petticoat?”

You are about to answer when Izutsumi interrupts; “you look so… different,” she relays.

A sheepish chuckle escapes you, as you turn to Chilchuck, who has since been staring at you.  He blinks once you perceive him and glances away.  “You’re still you.  It…  You look very… you. It's nice.”

You can’t help but laugh at his flustered attitude, leaning down to kiss the top of his head as he gives out to you.

You are accepted, and you are loved.  What place could possibly be better than here?

#✮ grimm's fics! #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines

[look-at-the-soul]

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

Author’s notes: This story is for you, in no particular order @zablife @runnning-outof-time @red-riding-wood @teenwolf-theoriginals @justrainandcoffee @brummiereader I’ve had the main idea in my mind for weeks after driving past a luxury restaurant daily, I think it’d still haunt me if I didn’t write this one down lol… anyways I decided to a few names of lovely mutuals. This is a small nod to you all for the amazing work you do and in an attempt to cheer you up or anyone who might need it at the moment. If for whatever reason you feel down, without inspiration, worried, or anything else, know that it will pass. This particular moment that feels like too much won’t last forever ✨I just hope/wish you get what you are looking for. And to anyone else going through anything hard right now, this is for you too!

Ps. Don’t panic the fandom isn’t falling down, I just felt the need to dedicate this story to lovely mutuals to spoil and cheer them up a bit 🤗

Last but not least, extra 🌟 to @blondie-22 for creating this gorgeous moodboard!! 💖

Word count: 3,245

Friday night had been quiet compared to today, it seems like everyone decided to go out on Saturday and go to that club, as if there wasn’t enough options in the city.

Y/N swallowed hard feeling worried, this was her second weekend working at the club and she wanted to give a good first impression and save as much money as possible.

Her other job as secretary paid for the rent and services, but she needed to have this second one on the weekends to support her grandmother and her medicines.

As the hostess, she was requested to wear a total black outfit, so she thought her little black dress was the right choice, it was fitting for her shape, it wasn’t too revealing or short and one of the girls, Red had suggested spraying some lidocaine on her feet to be able to stand all night in those heels. She quickly adapted well to the group of girls that worked there, they were all so nice to her and welcoming.

“Ready? I’ve an amazing list prepared.” Lee, one of the girls walked past her, ready to take her place at the DJ booth.

“Last week was hectic, I’ve a feeling this will be crazier.” Y/N expressed fiddling with the guest list for the night.

“Here, drink this.” Brummie, another of the girls came closer placing a glass next to Y/N. After a week, Y/N learned the reason for that nickname was her strong Brummie accent even after all the years she left the place.

“Go easy on the drinks, she makes them strong.” K chuckled. She was the first one to welcome Y/N into their little girls-gang as they called themselves. The only ladies working in a place owned by men.

“Doors opening in ten.” The manager advised, taking one more look at the place, waiters were ready. “Make tonight a good night everybody.”

Lee started playing the music then, experimenting with some new beats, she mixed a couple of the new hits. Lights down, Y/N took a deep breath, approaching the door.

“They better leave good tips tonight.” Red raised her eyebrows. She was in charge of promos, she was great at convincing people to order another round of shots, or if it was ladies night and they got 2x1 on special drinks.

“We’re in your hands Red.”

“I’ll do my best ladies.” She replied through the device they shared to communicate.

“Alright, it’s about time.” Y/N rolled her neck. “Lee, we’ve a party of six tonight, celebrating a bachelorette, could you include some anthems?”

“Absolutely darl.” Lee then turned up the volume of the music.

“If someone sees that baker, let me know?” Rose appeared then at the bar, she had been hiding in the office, she was in charge of detecting any potential trouble from the monitors.

“Sweetheart, everyone knows he’s not a baker.” Lee informed her, talking about Alfie.

“I haven’t seen him, so I wouldn’t know.” Y/N called from her place.

“Oh he’s just the most handsome man ever.” Rose swooned.

Y/N chuckled, the club would be the last place where she’d find love, she just knew that. Walking towards the door, the guard opened it for her.

She started searching for the name she was given in the guest list. A group of girls wearing exaggerated make up and deep cleavage plus the shortest skirts or dresses where the firsts ones to make it in. She was totally against it, but it was an unwritten rule to let people in, the more skin, the better.

But she wasn’t there to judge anyone, let the girls dress as they preferred, in the end she wasn’t the one getting wasted and dragged in the end of the night to throw up outside. She was there just for the money. Another table was filled by three men, they were older and dressed in button shirts with ripped jeans, as if it was an uniform for them.

Y/N thought how it was funny to try to guess their backgrounds, where they came from and with whom they might leave the club. She was just trying to make the time pass faster.

In no time, the club was packed, but outside there was still a bunch of people trying to make it.

People tried to give Y/N money to get in, some were even rude to her but the guards took charge into the matter and invited them to leave.

“I made a reservation, could you check again?” The young guy requested politely.

Y/N started reading the names again, but by the corner of her eye, she caught someone skipping the line. “Ah, excuse me? Sir?”

The man who was already by the door, turned around slowly, opening the zipper of his jacket. His death stare made Y/N feel a shiver running down her back.

“There’s a line you’ve to make and wait.” Three more men arrived and stared at her with amused expressions. “Name?”

The man blinked and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “Shelby. But you won’t find my name there, love.” Y/N saw him stopping the three other men with his hand.

“Then you’ll have to wait in the queue.”

For an instant, his expression was so transparent and Y/N knew he was offended.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just following orders.” She apologized and shuddered under his intense blue irises.

“Oi!” One of them, the one with a mustache tried to step closer.

“Arthur, leave it, we’re going to follow this lovely lady’s order and wait.” He then turned to face her again. “Accept a sincere apology for trying to get in.” He then winked.

The well dressed men followed his instructions and stepped back. Then she focused on the next people on the guest list, guiding them inside.

Barely a minute went by when Lucas, the manager grabbed her by the arm, dragging her inside in a blunt movement that made her go alert.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lucas snapped, spit flying from his mouth. “You left the Shelby brothers outside! The fucking owners of this place.”

Just as Lucas was explaining Y/N her mistake , Tommy walked behind her, with his brothers following his steps.

“That was a first Tommy.” John grinned. “The first woman who doesn’t let you walk in as the owner of the place, and you did nothing.”

John was definitely having fun at Tommy’s expense. Arthur couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, but he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Yeah, yeah she was only doing her job.” Tommy tried to excuse the hostess.

There was something that took him by surprise and startled him.

“And you walked back to the queue like a dog with the tail between the legs.” John went off again.

Tommy dragged his eyes across the club, he needed to know more about her. So he walked towards the bar.

“The usual Mr. Shelby?” Brummie asked her boss from behind the bar, he always waited to be served at his table.

Slowly, he posed his eyes on her, considering his options. “Please.” He replied then, clearing his throat.

“Here you go, I’ll take the other drinks up in a second.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he turned his back at her and slowly strolled across the club. Although he had security, he always checked his surroundings.

After a while, he found the manager. “Lucas, come here.” Patting him on the back, Tommy asked him about the hostess, she was just passing by in that very moment, but Tommy noticed the quick glance she threw at him.

“Again, I’m sorry it happened Mr. Shelby, she’s new but it won’t repeat.”

“No problem.” He added calmly. “What do you know about her?”

Lucas shook his head, he didn’t care about the staff personal life. “Not much, but I’ll investigate her.”

In that moment, Tommy’s eyes found her, arms linked with the girl in charge of the checking the credit cards records.

“Damn it, I made a huge mistake, I’m so so done.” Y/N cried in a low voice. Worry written all over her face.

“What did you do?” Rose squeezed her shoulder.

“I didn’t know it was him.” She babbled. “I asked Mr. Shelby and his brothers to wait in line for their turn to get a fucking table.” Y/N explained over the music.

Rose stared at her for a split second and then bursted into an incontrolable laugh. “No you didn’t!”

“I did Rose! I did… and now he’s going to fire me.”

But she kept laughing. Trying to take a deep breath she sent their chat group a message urging the other girls to meet in the back.

You’re not gonna believe what Y/N did, she’s a hero! - she announced proudly.

“I can’t imagine the face he put on, must’ve gone like a stone.” Rose pinched her arm playfully.

Lee programmed a couple of songs to play automatically, Brummie left the bartender in charge while she claimed a quick bathroom trip. Red rushed the guys on the table to pay her for their drinks and tip.

As the group gathered in the back, they we waiting eager to hear what had happened.

“Our newest friend here, made the boss wait in line to get a table.” Rose announced ceremonially, pointing at Y/N.

She wasn’t trying to make fun of her, just trying to have a moment to relax.

Y/N groaned mortified, she kept shaking her head. Overthinking of what would happen.

“Nice way to get the Shelby’s attention.” Red pointed at Y/N with a smile, enjoying the teasing.

“Can we ask for the CCTV footage?” K asked. “I want to see him in the line.”

“I was looking for you,” Isiah one of the blinders appeared suddenly, “ladies how are you doing? Y/N… Mr. Shelby wants to see you.”

A chorus of ohhh’s from the girls filled the space.

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Lee looked around the group.

“Well it depends…” Red crossed her arms. “Hopefully he’s in a good mood.”

“I doubt it to be honest.” Rose raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But maybe she knows how to tame the beast.”

“Oh oh, if there’s group meeting it means something happened?” Mia joined the girls, she asked permission to arrive later that day. She had some personal affair to attend.

K placed her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “You just missed the fun, but I’ll make a short version while we prepare some drinks.” They were both in charge of the bar.

“Last time we had an urgent meeting, Michael got arrested.” Mia remembered with a chuckle.

“Oh, this is better than that.” Red assured before going back to the crowded tables.

As Y/N followed Isiah, her heart was pounding, grabbing her phone she texted her friend, Heidi.

I think I messed up, BIG.

A quick answer appeared on her screen, in the background a themed photo illuminated the phone, beautiful shades of green reminded her of nature and hope, it was made by a really talented friend.

What happened?! Are you OK?

Yeah. No… I confused the owner of the club and asked him to wait outside and make the line!

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

If I don’t reply back he probably let me blind. Carries a peaky cap with a razor blade.

Y/N took a deep breath and checked her phone again.

Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Her friend encouraged back.

She just prayed to not mess it up again and start babbling, arriving at the private area where the Shelby’s were she quickly tried to fix her short hair and bangs.

“Good evening,” her voice was shaking, her legs and her heart, everything! “I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier, I’m new and didn’t know any of you.”

Her eyes landed one more time on who seemed to be the leader, those icy eyes boring into the deepest part of her. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Yeah, now me brother wants to find a way to speed the line up.” One of them explained, blowing his smoke towards the ceiling.

“John.” The man with the blue eyes warned. “Nevertheless, I’ve to thank you for keeping the line in check.”

His deep accent and the way he dragged each word gave her chills.

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

“Here drink this.” Another of them, the one with a mustache offered her a glass. “To a very good job!”

The two youngest were whispering something and staring back at the leader.

“It’s alright, really.” Tommy assured her after seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The one he called John a moment ago suggested.

“Again I’m really sorry.”

“Y/N is it?” He rolled his tongue over his lips after saying her name. “It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, I’m John, so you don’t mistake me again.” He had a huge grin on his face. “This is Finn, Michael and Arthur.” He started pointing out at everybody. “And that’s Tommy.”

“I won’t forget your names.” She repeated them mentally. “Enjoy your night, I’ll bring you another round.”

Y/N excused herself and went back to work. He was wearing a simple white shirt with a jacket and black jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. She was trying to focus on the people in the guest list instead of those eyes that reminded her of the most beautiful sky.

She smiled at a couple that walked past her dancing to the beat of the music.

A table next to her exploded in shouts and claps as K and Mia arrived with their shots and sparklers.

From the second floor, Tommy was watching her every move, eyes following her everywhere, studying her moves and the way she approached clients.

Arthur waved his hand in front of Tommy’s eyes after he didn’t listened to what he said.

“Tom? What do you think?”

Finn nudged John’s arm, tilting his head towards Tommy.

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, pretending to be part of their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Earth calling Tommy.” John teased. “He’s still waiting outside in the queue.”

Shooting John a death stare, he asked Arthur to repeat himself.

“Shall we call some women up?”

“Whatever.” He cleared his throat and stood up making his way through the club.

Talking to security, they informed him they kicked out a customer that got noisy and aggressive, but other than that, it was a quiet night. Everything seemed to be under control, the place was packed, everyone wanted to get in, live the experience and have the status only Delux could offer. He knew it was the best club in town, many club owners tried to copy his place, but they all failed, they tried to copy the details that made his club unique, it screamed luxury and good taste.

Eyeing Y/N across the club, Tommy decided to walk towards her, she was focused on the list before her eyes, swaying her hips to the beat of the music, pouting her lips murmuring the words… he could only imagine how would them feel against his, while his fingers tangled in her short hair.

Before he could reach her, she then turned her back at him to walk in the opposite direction, but abruptly, she changed her mind and turned around again, bumping into Tommy’s chest in the process.

“Mr. Shelby! I’m really sorry.” He could tell she was mortified, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Tommy reluctantly took a step back.

Y/N hoped her voice wouldn’t crack. “Do you need something?” Battling her lashes slowly at him. “Can I take you your drinks upstairs?”

He was startled by her overwhelming beauty, under some kind of spell by her voice and smile. It had been so long since he felt so captivated by someone… Shaking his head slowly to clear his mind, but she thought he was saying no to her.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Y/N started walking away. “Well if you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually I do.” Tommy managed to say, making Y/N turn to face him once more.

Everything happened in a blink, he grabbed her by her face and kissed Y/N, not able to resist the desire any longer. But when she answered the kiss with the same eagerness and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull Tommy closer he lost it.

Guiding Y/N towards the wall, he trapped her between it and his body.

Kissing her hard, he tilted his head to the opposite side, relieved to feel her matching his desire. Feeling one of his hands, brushing down from her waist to her hip and then down her leg, she added some pressure on his shoulders.

“Someone can come.” Y/N warned him breathlessly, his lips barely away from hers, just what was really necessary for her to speak.

“I don’t fucking care, I own this place.” Tommy told her right before kissing her again with passion.

Squeezing the flesh of her thigh and he felt as if he had whiskey injected in his veins.

Y/N moved her head back slightly, that left Tommy with his mouth hanging open in an almost sensual kiss that had just slipped away from him. Opening his eyes after the failed mission, he found her bitting her lower lip playfully.

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

“I really need get back to work or my boss might fire me.” Y/N explained before stealing one more quick peck on his lips and bending down to free herself from him, left Tommy leaning against the wall with his heart pumping so fast that it felt like he was having a heart attack.

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

Going back up, he stood looking down at the people at the club, his eyes scanning the place until he found that pretty little thing that with just one kiss, made him feel more than anyone else.

Feeling som eking of pressure on 5e back of her head, Y/N turned around and lifting her eyes, she found Tommy staring at her from the second floor. Raising his glass at her, he added a wink.

Y/N felt her cheeks blushing and smile quickly spread on her lips. Checking the clock, she walked towards the door it was about time to not let anyone else in.

“Your lipstick is smeared dear.” Mia pointed out.

“Damn it, really?” Worryingly she went back to the bar, to check her reflection on the mirror behind all the booze bottles.

As the girls started to ask her what had happened, she got another message on her phone.

Think you can send me back to the line twice and get away with it twice? Meet me in my office once you’re done. -Your boss.

She gasped. He oozed trouble from every angle, the one that won’t let you get up from bed after several rounds.

He was practically the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.

✨ thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little spiced story 🔥

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife

@elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

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@ironpen @holacia3 @narlytude

#that’s what Cill said #modern tommy shelby imagine #modern!tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fan fic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fan fiction #modern peaky blinders #arthur shelby imagine #john shelby imagine

[nerdygaymormon]

My 10 year Tumblr anniversary

June 2024 marks 10 years since I started this blog!

I originally began this blog as a way for me to follow discussions taking place on Tumblr about important topics in the LDS community, like racism or Ordain Women, which couldn't be discussed in mainstream LDS spaces. 

I soon found the LGBTQ+ LDS community which called themselves queerstake. I would message them and make comments on their posts, and they gently encouraged me to write my own blog posts to share my thoughts with others. I resisted, thinking I had nothing of value to add to the conversation and no one would be interested in what I had to say. I finally wrote my first blog post in June 2016 and it was about meeting the Sistas in Zion and sharing that I'm gay and the kindness of their reaction. That post got exactly zero likes or comments, reaffirming my belief that I didn't have anything of interest to share. I didn't write another post until August and it got a few likes and that was enough, I wrote several more posts that month and haven't stopped.

I used to go to blogging sites to find blogs by queer Latter-day Saints. Their stories resonated with me and felt important. Usually they began with someone coming home from their mission, which they hoped would be rewarded by God removing their gayness, and being disappointed or surprised this didn't happen. They expressed a commitment to staying in the church, but as the months went by they more and more wrote about the hurt they experienced, the pain of church policies aimed at them, insensitive encounters with church members and leaders, and anger at things said in General Conference. Typically there would be entries for a few months and then the blog goes silent, no more entries. 

I would think of not just how important these blogs were to me, but in some distant future they would be of interest to historians wanting to better understand what it was like to be a queer Mormon at a time of big changes in society and the LDS Church. 

Most of those blogs were written by folks in their 20's and lasted just a few months to maybe up to 2 years. I thought perhaps writing as someone in their 40's would add to these voices, and for it to matter I needed to be authentic in sharing my thoughts, feelings and experiences, showing the good, bad, and ugly. I honestly was surprised and thrilled if I had a post reach 40 or 50 likes, and was unprepared for having a post in 2017 get clicked on more than a half-million times.

Since my viral post, I had a number of younger queer people following me, I still wanted to be honest and authentic and vulnerable, but I also wanted it to be a queer-positive space. I reblogged things from others, I posted lots of rainbow-themed posts so that visually it's clear this is a blog of a queer person. 

I started getting many messages with questions, often anonymously which meant the only way I could respond was by posting my answer to my blog. I soon felt like I was the Dear Ann Landers of Queerstake and have posted about 2000 responses since 2017, which averages to about 150 such responses per year. 

Because queer people usually don't grow up being taught about queer history and culture, I will occasionally make posts about such things, including about LDS queer history because as a queer Mormon, I can be proud of the LDS pioneer and pioqueer legacies. 

The person who started this blog 10 years ago could never have imagined I would be out to everyone in my life, and once I was out that I would still be a member of the LDS Church and get to meet General Authorities, that I would have my words published in books, be a guest on podcasts, or serve in the leadership of an organization (Affirmation) for queer people. It's been a wild ride.

#david gets personal

[richonnesbitch]

Hey everyone! Here's chapter 1 of a fanfic I wrote about what would have went down had we gotten a bridge wedding in season 9. It's been wracking my brain forever so I just had to write it. If everyone likes it, I'll post chapter 2!

Rick marveled at the ring in his hand. Not only was the ring itself perfect, but the timing itself was. There was about a week's time before the bridge was completed and Rick was hoping to marry her on that exact day. His dream was about to come true.

He placed a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, giving it squeeze. "Thank you, Gabriel."

Gabriel smiled. "Congratulations, Rick. When are you going to propose?"

"Soon. Tonight. As soon as possible."

"Well, good luck.", Gabriel replied earnestly.

Rick smiled and nodded. "I want us to have the wedding the day the bridge is completed."

"You're gonna plan a wedding in only a week?"

Rick let out a chuckle. "I've been planning this for months."

Gabriel chuckled with him. "Okay, Rick. Good luck."

Rick pocketed the ring as he walked home, plotting the entire way on how he should make his move. He'd been so focused on the wedding itself he didn't even think on how he'd propose. And now he only had a week to do it. Heat took over his body as the jitters started to kick in.

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

As Michonne walked into her home the smell of candles, spaghetti, and garlic bread overtook the room. Surprise grew on her face as she looked around the room. "Rick?"

"Hey." He was standing at the kitchen table pouring two glasses of red wine. He had a huge smile on his face and his eyes were as bright as the sun.

She begin to smile as well. "What's all this about?"

"Just supper. Hope you're hungry."

"I am. Where's Judith?"

"Rosita offered her to stay the night. I thought me and you could have some time to ourselves." He pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She knew he was up to something and she had a good idea of what it was but felt excited to see how this played out. She happily took her seat with Rick taking the chair next to her.

"This looks amazing.", she complimented the food, taking a bite of it. She nodded her head. "It is."

Rick was staring, still smiling at her. "Glad you like it." He grabbed her hand, using his thumb to rub her fingers. "How was your day?"

The two continued to talk as they ate. "Good. The garden is thriving, even more than last month. No one's sick in the infirmary right now. Alexandria's doing good."

Rick nodded his head. "Yeaaah. I knew you'd take good care of this place."

"We are taking care of place.", she firmly corrected him.

"Mmm... It's mostly you. I just wanted to say... you're doing an amazing job. And I really appreciate it. Thank you for everything that you do.", Rick complimented her sincerely. And he truly meant every word. He was so beyond grateful for this woman he felt like he couldn't find the words to express it. There were not words strong enough to show his appreciation for her. But he sure tried.

Every word hit her hard, sending tingles throughout her body. His voice did things to her when he spoke softly with his rough, southern drawl.

She decided to take the compliment. She had been working very hard lately and it was nice to feel appreciated. He always knew how to make her feel seen. "Thank you, Rick.", she responded with a hand squeeze. "What about you? How was your day?"

He still had that smile on his face, while also looking kind of sweaty. "Great. Really great. The bridge should be completed in about a week."

"Rick, that's amazing. We should do something to celebrate! Us, the rest of the communities."

Rick shook his head in agreement. "Yeah, I was thinking the same." That was the end of his sentence but it seemed like there was something else he wanted to say. Instead he said, "you don't like the wine?"

"Oh, sorry. I just... don't like the taste of wine and spaghetti."

"Let me get you some water then." He let go of her hand to get up but she tightened her grip.

"I can get it."

Rick laughed. "Let me.", he softly demanded. Michonne released his hand and he swiftly moved to fetch her a glass. "You want ice?"

"Sure."

She watched lovingly as he opened the freezer and grabbed a few cubes out the tray, dropping them into her water. He could feel her eyes on him. "So, this celebration thing... Kingdom will come, Hilltop will come. We can all bring some food. Maybe Eugene can be a DJ, you know since he's handy with that stuff. I'm sure he has all types of CD's, tapes, and whatnot. " He walked back to the table, setting her glass next to her plate and taking his seat again.

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I guess."

"So when are we doing all this?"

"The night the bridge is complete."

"Have you talked to everyone else about this yet?"

"Well, a little bit. Not in detail. But I don't see why they wouldn't. This would be good for all of us."

"Well, you should talk to them as soon as possible since it's only a few days away."

"Yeah, I'll do that. But..." His voice became slightly shaky.

"But what?"

"I wanted to go over it with you first." He looked down, seemingly unable to meet her eyes. "Michonne... I've had this on my mind a while now. This bridge is the start of something new. It really feels like everything is finally coming together. All the communities coming together like this... this world was broken. And here you are putting the pieces back together. If anyone could do it, it's you." Suddenly he rose out of his chair and bent down on one knee pulling a ring out of the breast pocket of the plaid shirt he was wearing. "You are the love of my life. I love you so, so much. I'm yours till the day I die. Will you marry me?" Michonne could see his chest puffing up and down.

Her eyes begin to well up with tears. Slowly she joined him on his knees, taking both of his hands in hers. "If you would have told me all that time ago that we ended up here, I would have never believed you. I still can't believe it. I love you so much, Rick. You're my one true love. Of course I'll marry you."

Michonne felt Rick's cold wet tears trickle down his face as she pulled him in for a deep kiss. As they pulled away, the pair begin to laugh.

Quietly Rick stood up, taking Michonne's hand again. "Come on.", he whispered, guiding her upstairs to their bedroom. She continued to giggle.

The couple ravished one another as the night went on, just completely enjoying themselves together without a care in the world. They fought so long, so hard for simple moments like these and now their time had finally came. Nothing was gonna keep this from them ever again. Nothing and no one. To them, this was everything. They had the rest of their lives to spend together and not a single moment would go by unappreciated... least of all this one.

After a very long, very pleasureful night exhaustion started to consume them. As daylight slowly crept up on them, they decided it was time to finally get some rest.

"So. You're taking my last name, right?"

Michonne chuckled. "Yes, baby. I'm taking your last name."

Rick softly smiled, placing a tiny kiss on her shoulder as they laid cuddling in their bed. "Good."

#michonne grimes #rick grimes #richonne #the walking dead #twd #the ones who live #towl

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Immortalized

Summary:

During a museum visit, Dream tells Hob the story of two star-crossed lovers in a painting and what it means to him.

Word Count: 3,055

Notes:

For Dreamling Week Day 3: Painting

[Read on AO3]

---

“Would you recognize everything in here?” Hob asked as they leisurely walked around the gallery. “Do you somehow sense every artwork before they’re made?”

“Not always,” Dream replied, looking at the paintings they passed by. “If I do not make a conscious effort to see into a daydream, I do not perceive them unless they are particularly vivid.”

Hob had chosen a museum this week for their meeting, remembering what Dream said last time about wanting to see more of the city as a human would. Not much in museums could surprise Hob, and he was curious to know how Dream would feel about the place.

“Oh good, I was afraid you’d find it boring here,” Hob said playfully. He didn’t really think Dream would get bored in a museum; he knew that his friend was more interested in learning about humans now than back then. Still, it was always a little intimidating when it was his turn to choose a meeting place. He had seen the Dreaming, and it was hard to think of what could match up to the things that Dream created regularly.

“Museums are never a bore; humans are unceasingly interesting. You have taught me that.” Dream said the words with such casual sincerity, and Hob couldn't help but smile at how comfortable his friend was now at expressing sentiments.

“In addition, it is fascinating to see works of art gathered in one place. One creation can inspire another, which can transcend mediums. This painting, for example.” Dream stopped in front of a painting that depicted a man stabbed through with a sword lying under a tree. A woman was standing above him and appeared to fall on the sword herself.

“This is only one version of the many paintings that are derived from the original written tale. Apart from the visual works, plays and other stories have also been adapted from it.”

Hob read the caption beside it, indicating that the title of the piece was Pyramus and Thisbe and it was made by an Italian artist named Pietro Bianchi in the 18th century.

“What’s the original story about? I don’t think I’d been paying attention to art much during that time.” Hob kept his tone casual, but he never liked remembering what he was like in that century, and Dream must have sensed his discomfort somehow.

“You are not that man anymore, Hob Gadling,” Dream said gently.

Hob nodded and gave a small smile. He wanted to kick himself for potentially bringing the mood down during what was supposed to be a fun day, but Dream didn’t seem to mind as he turned to look at the painting again.

Dream began the story in his even baritone.

“Pyramus and Thisbe were lovers, but their families had a bitter rivalry. Despite their circumstances, they found a way to communicate through a crack in the wall. One day, they decided to elope, and arranged to meet at the base of a mulberry tree. Thisbe arrived first. While she waited, a lioness approached to get a drink from the nearby source of water. The beast looked fearsome, as it still had blood on its jaws from a fresh hunt, and Thisbe ran away to hide in a cave, dropping her veil in her haste.

The lioness came across the veil, and chewed on it for a time before leaving it mangled and bloody. Then Pyramus arrived. He recognized the veil as belonging to his lover, and fell into despair as he mistook the sight to mean that Thisbe had been killed. He cursed himself for not arriving sooner to protect her. He kissed the veil, before drawing his sword and plunging it into his body and drawing it back out. Thisbe returned from her hiding place, hoping to warn her lover of the lioness. She saw his dying form and called out his name. Pyramus opened his eyes and saw his beloved just before the last of his breath left him.

Thisbe tore at her hair and cried and embraced the body, but there was nothing to be done. She saw the bloody veil and sword, and understood what had happened. She spoke a vehement wish to the gods and their feuding parents to have them lie in the same tomb, for not even death could part them. She kissed her lover’s cold lips, and felled herself on the same sword that took his life, still warm with his blood.

The gods felt moved by her prayers, and honoured their memory by permanently making the fruits of the mulberry tree a shade of crimson, which had been previously white but had been coloured by the spray of their blood. Thisbe’s wish of their remains being together was granted, and their ashes were laid to rest in the same urn.”

Hob kept staring at Dream for several seconds before realising that the story was over. Dream’s voice was calm for the entire retelling, and held an engaging timber that kept Hob entranced even when he was done speaking.

Hob blinked a few times and turned to look at the painting again. “Bloody hell. I mean, I know the classics are chock-full of tragedies but… Wait, were they real?” he asked Dream. “Pyramus and Thisbe. Because you’ve told me that some people in the myths actually existed back then.”

Dream shook his head. “They are entirely fictional, though their circumstances are far from unheard of. Humans have had rivalries countless times throughout the ages, and have experienced love and its complications even more often. That is why such stories are timeless. From what I gather, such tragic misunderstandings are a prevalent theme in the most well-known stories in this century.”

“Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet,” Hob said without thinking. “Hang on, Shakespeare’s play is derived from this story?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, no wonder you picked this painting to explain. Your favourite playwright adapted it.” Hob narrowed his eyes in mock distaste.

Dream frowned. “I have never said that he is my favourite playwright.”

“Oh, so you personally visit and talk to every artist you like and Shaxberd wasn't an exception?” Hob wasn't really upset about the whole thing anymore, but it had become a sort of inside joke for them and it was always endearing to see Dream’s reactions whenever he brought it up.

Dream gave him a look that was probably meant to look unimpressed but Hob recognized as fond. “I do not understand why you are still—how would today's children say it—salty about him.”

Hob loved it whenever Dream deliberately used modern slang in their banters—hearing his velvet voice was impossibly endearing—but he suppressed a smile. “Maybe if you didn’t ditch me to go hang out with that guy, I wouldn’t be,”

Dream glanced at the ceiling in his version of an eyeroll, matching Hob’s playfulness. “You are the guy I am hanging out with now, are you not?”

Hob grinned. “Damn right, I am. Every week for the past three months. Are you saying I’m your favourite, after all?” he teased.

Dream stared at him for several seconds before answering. “Yes.”

Hob’s grin slowly melted off his face. He had expected a vague response or maybe a proper eyeroll, not Dream looking at him with a gaze that pinned him to place and made something flutter in his chest.

“It is because of you, Hob Gadling, that you and I avoided a tragedy similar to that of Pyramus and Thisbe. Unlike Pyramus, you did not assume the worst of my absence. You waited for me. Even when my own subjects did not.” Dream’s voice grew quieter. “Even after I had been cruel to you.”

“Hey, none of that,” Hob quickly said. “You’ve already apologised about 1889 and more than made up for it. You’re not that man anymore, Dream,” he said pointedly, repeating his friend’s words from earlier.

The soft smile that lifted the corners of Dream’s lips outshone everything else in that gallery, and Hob felt himself smiling back.

“You are a good friend, Hob Gadling. I can only hope to deserve such loyalty.”

“You already deserve it, Dream. And you’ll always have it.”

“As you shall have mine.” Dream stepped closer, his voice a soft rumble that sent goosebumps across Hob’s skin. He glanced at the painting again. “They had arranged to meet at the base of the mulberry tree, and when one of them arrived later, it spelled the end for them.” He returned his gaze to Hob. “But you, Hob Gadling…”

Hob swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity of Dream’s eyes.

“Nothing would deter you. Our place of meeting had closed down, and you simply built another. Even without knowing whether I would still come back.”

“I always knew you would come back,” Hob said softly. “And I wanted to be there when you did.”

Dream took another step closer, and Hob could feel his heart race in anticipation. “There have been countless stories of people torn apart by time and misunderstandings. But because of you, such a fate did not befall us. I needed you to know how important that is to me. How important you are. To me.”

“Dream…” Hob breathed. He felt like he could topple over at any moment. When Dream first showed up at the Inn, it felt like the sun coming out after a harsh winter. When Dream kept showing up, week after week, Hob felt much more alive than he ever did before, and he didn’t dare ask for anything else.

And now Dream was just saying all these things to him, on a random Saturday afternoon, reaching into his most secret hopes and lighting him up from the inside.

“That is why I chose this painting to talk about. Why I am choosing you. Now. If you will have me.”

“If— Wh— Dream—” Hob stuttered, six centuries of emotions rising up within him all at once.

“My heart is yours, Hob Gadling. To do with as you wish.” Dream spoke quietly, his expression soft and open and with an adoration that Hob never thought would be directed at him.

“You…” Hob grabbed the front of Dream’s coat with both hands and leaned his forehead against Dream’s shoulder, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “How could you do this to me right now…”

He had been so careful, keeping a hold on his self-control every week after the next. But now everything came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. Everything he had ever wanted with Dream, what he wanted to do with Dream—

“Hob. I am afraid I cannot hold you here as you wish for me to do.”

Hob's eyes widened and he jumped back, letting go of Dreams' coat. “Shit, I forgot you can see daydreams. Sorry, I…” he trailed off when he saw Dream’s playful smile.

Dream leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “I am not allowed to touch you. The sign at the door clearly prohibits touching the masterpieces.”

Hob's face burned. Thoughts raced through his head faster than he could track. “Take me somewhere else, then,” he managed to choke out.

The mirth on Dream's face disappeared, replaced by an expression of want so palpable that Hob wanted to dive in and taste it.

Dream’s eyes turned into galaxies. He grabbed Hob's wrist and in the next instant Hob felt himself pressed back against a tree, Dream’s mouth descending on his.

Hob could only arch into the touch, his hands finding their way into Dream’s hair, pulling him closer.

Their kisses burned with centuries of longing, the yearning to be even closer with every passing second, chasing after the heat of finally being together, and Hob was all too happy to let it consume him.

Dream’s tongue slid against his and he groaned, gripping the back of Dream’s neck to keep him in place, not intending to let him go for as long as humanly possible.

Time stopped making sense. Hob didn't know or care how long he'd been pressed against Dream, and when he broke the kiss it was only because words began rushing out of him beyond his control.

“I'm yours, Dream,” he panted. “My heart. Everything. Anything you want.”

Dream pressed his forehead against Hob’s, catching his breath. And it nearly drove Hob mad to realise that he was the reason for it, that he affected Dream enough to the point of breathing.  “You are…. everything I want.”

They held each other like that, in the warm quiet moment when words were no longer needed.

Then Hob noticed that the leaves of the tree that shaded them were gold, and the clouds passing by were a glimmering silver against a backdrop of a pale indigo sky.

“Are we in the Dreaming?” Hob asked in surprise, only now recognizing the familiar feeling of being in Dream’s realm.

“Indeed. I did not want to be interrupted.”

“Wait, then where's my body? I'm not passed out in the museum, am I?” Though Hob wouldn't really mind either way. It'd be well worth it.

“Your body is safe in your own bedroom. We took a short detour before coming here.”

Hob blinked. “I'd say you move fast, but I'd been waiting for this for a long time.” He smiled and caressed Dream’s face, running his thumb over a pale cheekbone.

“Then wait no longer, my beloved. You have me now.”

Those words seemed to spark something inside Hob, and heat pooled low in his gut. His hands held firm on Dream's shoulders.

“You know, I have no rules in my bedroom against touching me.”

There was a rumble in Dream’s chest that only stoked the fires threatening to consume Hob, and he could practically feel his own pupils dilating.

“Hob Gadling.” Dream said the words like a promise.

Hob felt himself return to his body, and he only had time to register the feel of his mattress against his back before Dream was upon him again.

***

“How're the crêpes?” Hob asked after taking a bite of his waffle.

“The flavour of the fruit mixed with the chocolate syrup is a good combination; I can understand the appeal. Though I still prefer the food at The New Inn.”

Hob chuckled. “I think you might be biased, love.”

The corner of Dream’s mouth lifted. “Perhaps.”

Hob grinned and allowed himself to feel smug about that. “But seriously, though, this is a good place,” he looked around.

Dream had chosen a café this week. Nothing fancy, but it had a very homey feel, and there was currently an art exhibit going on as part of their marketing. Paintings hung on the walls, and small sculptures lined the tables on one side.

“Since we looked at well-known classics last time, I thought it would be fitting to view works by today's artists. These are the new stories.”

Hob smiled. There was such high regard in Dream's voice, and he hoped those artists could somehow sense how proud the Prince of Stories was of them.

Hob paid more attention to the artworks, which was easier now that there were fewer people than when they first came in. A particular piece on the wall across from their table caught his attention; it was an oil painting of a sunny park where people were lounging in, but the trees had gold leaves, and the sky was a pale indigo with silver clouds.

Hob frowned and went over to the painting, his eyes landing on two people on the left. They were painted from the side, one was leaning against a tree and the other stood pressed against him, wearing a long black coat. They were definitely snogging.

“Dream—” Hob turned around to see Dream standing right behind him with a knowing smile. “Did you transport us to some poor bloke's dream last week?” he asked incredulously, keeping his voice down.

“Not exactly. At the time, I did not have a specific area of the Dreaming in mind. I simply wanted us to be somewhere private. But dreamers roam around my realm with a certain degree of freedom, and a handful of them were in the same place as we were. Most of them forget the details of their dreams upon waking up, but this particular artist had been hoping for inspiration, an idea to paint for this event. And I believed it would be a kindness to help him remember the details of his particular dream a little more vividly than the others.”

“A kindness, really?” Hob raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile from the ridiculous stunt that his deity of a boyfriend just pulled.

“Yes.” Dream spoke evenly, but there was a gleam in his eye that Hob knew all too well.

Hob looked back at the painting and made a face at how his figure was drawn from such an awkward angle.

“I look terrible,” he complained.

“I look worse.”

Hob turned to him and was about to say that Dream didn't look bad in the painting at all, but something about the tone of Dream’s voice and his playful smirk sparked a memory.

“Is that meant to be me?” Hob looked down at the drawing that Lady Constantine placed at their table. “I look terrible.” He glanced at Dream. “You look worse.”

Hob chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “Finally realised I was flirting then? Took you long enough.”

“Hm.” Dream hummed and stepped closer. “Shall we make up for lost time? I would be more than happy to provide you with two centuries’ worth of… experience,” he looked at Hob from under his eyelashes. “And then some.”

Hob swallowed as he felt a familiar heat roil in his gut. “That's not fair. Why do you always try to seduce me in public?”

“Because I know I can always take you somewhere private.”

Hob narrowed his eyes, but he wasn’t nearly prideful enough to decline a proposition from Dream. “Just to my flat this time. I don't wanna be appearing in any more paintings.”

Dream’s lips turned up in a smile. “As you wish. I am not opposed to keeping you all to myself.”

Dream pressed a soft kiss to Hob's lips, and Hob leaned into the touch as he felt the familiar sensation of being transported away.

---

Notes:

The premise of this fic is inspired by this Tumblr post. I saw it years ago and my brain conjured it up again for this fic~

Big thanks to @patchyegg87 for her idea of Hob and Dream teleporting to an artist's dream and being painted <3

And to my brother as well for being an art geek and telling me various stories of lovers in classic paintings and such~

---

(Dreamling Week Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

#dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #mr sadman #the sandman #the sandman netflix #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #hob x dream #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #morpheus x hob #the sandman fanfic #dreamling fic #the sandman fanfiction #centennial husbands #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #dreamling fanfic #writing #writeblr #fanfic writing #fic writing #my fic

[chaithetics]

frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation. 

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant. 

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections. 

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy. 

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood? 

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical. 

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them. 

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you. 

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying. 

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors. 

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes? 

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would. 

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile. 

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing. 

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle. 

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap. 

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him. 

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer. 

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know. 

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground. 

“Something will stick eventually.” You say. 

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject. 

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him. 

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you. 

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you. 

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal. 

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile. 

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is. 

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination. 

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now. 

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.” 

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink. 

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off. 

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces. 

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt. 

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did. 

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats. 

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile. 

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm. 

It’s intentional. 

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body. 

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him. 

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things. 

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is. 

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that. 

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain. 

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time. 

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second. 

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe. 

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway. 

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other. 

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would. 

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting. 

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out. 

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.  

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well. 

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you. 

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.” 

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming. 

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks. 

“Or something.” You whisper back. 

“I’ll read that.” He says. 

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory.  Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

#norm maclean x reader #norm maclean #norm maclean x f reader #norm maclean fallout #fallout series #fall out amazon #fallout fanfic #fallout tv series #fallout #fallout fanfiction #norman maclean #norman maclean x reader #norm maclean fluff #fallout x reader #fallout imagine #norm maclean imagine #moisés arias #moisés arias characters #did you get the mitski references? #could you tell i was depressed while writing half of this? #mitski inspired #fallout prime #fallout show

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 51)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

With the wedding coming up, Cillian and you made even more of an effort to remain on good terms than you ever did before. While he was away, filming the Peaky Blinders Movie, you video called him so that Mara could see her daddy every day.

Every day, before she went to bed, you allowed Cillian to read her a story over the webcam, whenever he was able to.

It was a small gesture that meant a lot to Mara, and it helped her and Cillian to maintain a connection despite the distance.

Your therapist welcomed the positive communication and reminded you that you were doing an implacable job by keeping him involved even despite his busy schedule. 

During that time, you also noticed a slight change in Cillian's behavior. He seemed more relaxed, more at ease with himself, and with you. 

"So, what's the plan for Mara's birthday next week?" he asked one evening when he skyped in from London.

"I was thinking a party actually. She has been at daycare twice a week and made some friends. I was going to invite them and their parents. My mum, Siobhan and Emma are coming too, and I think even your mum is driving down from Cork. I also invited two friends from my mother's group," you said, filled with enthusiasm for Mara's big day.

Cillian chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth. "Sounds like you got everything planned out," he said, sounding genuinely pleased. 

"You know it would be nice for Mara if you could come,"  you added, hoping that he might be able to make the trip.

"I would love to," he said, "but you know I can't leave the set, Y/N. I have a busy schedule filming and I'm just hoping that things will ease up a bit in the next couple of weeks," Cillian said with sadness in his voice. 

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but you knew that filming was important for Cillian's career.

"I know, but what I am saying is that you are more than welcome to come if you wanted to," you repeated, looking him straight in the eyes through the camera.

"And I appreciate that, really," he nodded, taking a deep breath. "But I still need to wrap up this movie." 

"I understand," you said softly, biting your bottom lip. "And, you know, you can always celebrate with her when you come back by taking her to the zoo or something. She probably won't remember the party anyway, but she will also remember the zoo," you chuckled, seeing how it was Mara's favorite place to go these days. 

"You are probably right you know," Cillian conceded, his expression softening even further. "Now, did you call the carpenter to fix up the shelving in the living room? I told him that you would call and to invoice for it. You might need that done before the party," he continued, seeing how one of the built in shelves had collapsed after you tried to carry out some DYI work on it. 

"No, he can't do it until the week after next, but Sean offered to fix it for me before the party which is nice,"  you informed him, noticing how Cillian's expression changed for a second.

"Sean, huh?" Cillian chuckled; his expression unreadable but you could hear a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Don't start, Cillian! Don't fucking start!" you shot back with irk, already feeling the familiar burn in the pit of your stomach.

"I didn't even say anything," Cillian smirked, his eyes glimmering as he studied your reaction.

"Then why are you acting the way you are when I bring up his name?" you asked, rolling your shoulders back, trying to release some tension in your body.

"I'm not. It's none of my business who you spend your time with so long as you keep Mara out of it," Cillian growled, scratching the back of his neck impatiently.

"You know what, I was actually thinking about inviting him to the party, as a friend of course and only if you would allow it. Because he has been a big help those last few days, running errands for me for her party while I was sitting my exams and he asked me whether he could come," you told Cillian nonchalantly, secretly enjoying his reaction.

"Oh, did he now?" Cillian said with a sigh as he adjusted the display setting. "So, you two are getting more serious then?" he enquired  without looking at you.

You could tell he was slightly irritated, he clearly didn't want to give you the satisfaction of seeing it on his face.

"Well, we are still taking things slow and we not being too serious about it. We agreed on no labels, but I still only consider him as a friend, with benefits,"  you replied, being brutally honest while watching Cillian's reactions closely.

"So poor Sean is still in the friend zone then, eh?"  Cillian quipped, the corner of his mouth curling into a slight smirk before he quickly hid it.

You noticed it, and it stung a little, but you tried not to let it get to you.

"Yes," you confirmed, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression. "He has been very supportive and helpful lately and I like having him around, but there is no pressure between us. We are both free to see other people. That's the way it is for now."

Cillian nodded, turning his gaze back to the camera. "Fair enough and thank you for clarifying your relationship status for me. I just hope he knows that too, because I am not the one who needs convincing Y/N," Cillian said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Whatever Cillian. Can you just give me an answer?"  you asked, your patience wearing thin.

Cillian's smirk faded, to be replaced by a look of annoyance. "What do you want me to say, Y/N? I don't want Sean around my daughter," he said firmly.

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Why not? He is a decent person and Mara won't even know who he is. There are other people there who are no more than friends either and there most certainly won't be any public display of affection," you argued , trying to reason with him.

Cillian sighed deeply, knowing that he couldn't win this argument. "Fine. He can come, but only if you make sure that nothing happens between the two of you that Mara might see, at least not until you are serious about him which, it clearly seems, will never happen," he relented , eliminating any obvious doubts in your mind.

***

Your mind began working overtime to decide a strategic approach to the situation. On one hand, you were glad that Cillian was allowing Sean to attend the party, but on the other hand, the caveat gave you a sense of unease. 

You explained the situation to Sean on your next date when your mother was looking after Mara and, much to your surprise, he was very understanding about it.

"My parents separated when I was twelve Y/N. I get it, so don't worry, okay? I don't even have to come. I can help you set up and then leave before Mara and your mum arrive," Sean suggested, trying to make things as easy as possible for both of you.

"I really appreciate that Sean, but I don't want you to feel like you have to leave on my account, especially since you have been helping me so much those last few days," you  told him sincerely.

"And I like helping you Y/N, because I know that being a single mum can be hard. Your ex hasn't really been making an effort to be here for Mara lately, so if I can do anything to help, I will," Sean replied with conviction.

"Cillian is away filming. That's his job Sean," you explained wearily, wondering if he had brought this up to upset you or validate his actions. 

"I know, but he should really make an effort to be there for his daughter's first birthday, don't you think?"  Sean queried, a hint of frustration coloring his voice.

"Maybe, but it's not my place to say or judge what he does, because he is still looking after us both," you responded, attempting to defuse the tension that had suddenly risen between you. "So, lets change the topic shall we?" you suggested, trying to keep the mood light and pleasant. 

"I am sorry Y/N. You are right," Sean sighed, taking a deep breath before giving you a gentle kiss.

***

Later that day, after you picked up Mara and Sean went his separate way to catch up with some of his friends, he couldn't help but feel slightly let down by the conversation he had with you about the upcoming birthday party and confided in a friend about it.

"Dude, you're acting like you are in some kind of relationship with this chick," his friend Mark joked, taking a swig of his beer. "You told me that you two agreed to be friends with benefits. You don't owe her anything other than your time while you are hooking up and she doesn't owe you anything either! So why do you even want to go to that kid's birthday party?"

Sean sighed, shaking his head as he stared out the bar window at the busy cobblestone street outside.

"Because I want to make an effort for her daughter and make her see that I could actually be right for her, you know?" Sean replied, finally giving voice to his true feelings. "It's just that she is so damn stubborn most of the time, and I know that she still has feelings for her ex, which I can't really compete with."

Mark chuckled, slapping Sean on the back. "Well, he is Thomas Fucking Shelby, man," he laughed, burying the rest of his beer in one swift gulp. 

"You are not helping Mark!" Sean rolled his eyes at his friend's remark. "I am trying here, you know?"  Sean said, sighing again, exasperated.

"I know, and Y/N is a lucky woman to have you," Mark smiled, clinking his empty bottle against Sean's before signaling for another round. "But dude, you need to just relax and stop worrying about her ex. If she wants to be with you, she will. It's that simple."

"She said she just wants to be friends and I don't even want her to meet you guys because I am worried that I will look like a fool when she decides to go back to  her ex," Sean sighed, sitting down on the couch in his apartment, feeling frustrated. "I mean, how am I seriously going to compete with someone like him, a famous fucking Hollywood actor?" Sean mumbled to himself as he paced around his apartment. 

"You may not be able to, but she may also just play hard to get, which is what a lot of women seem to do these days," Mark reminded him thoughtfully as he watched Sean struggle with his thoughts. "Maybe you should focus on being the best version of yourself for your sake and not for hers, and then she will soon see if you are right for her or not," Mark added with a raised eyebrow. "Or you could find something that makes her ex look really bad. He is famous enough, so surely, with the right help, you can dig up some dirt," Mark suggested with a sly grin and Sean's brow furrowed as he contemplated Mark's words, his mind racing with ideas of how he could ruin Cillian for you, once and for all. 

"Maybe I should try, yeah, but I don't want to fight dirty. Despite, I don't even know him or anyone who hangs out with him other than Y/N herself," he said, his morals preventing him from considering such a devious course of action.

"Well, let me help you then," Mark offered, pulling out his phone and conducting a quick online search. "I work for the Irish Times after all," his friend smirked,  focusing on the task at hand. 

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#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you please do Slashers (Norman Bates, Patrick Bateman, Micheal, Jason, Brahms, Billy and Stu. You get the idea) with a, hear me out, a s/o who is just as if more out of pocket and crazy as they are, but here’s the catch their s/o aka you 🫵, don’t even realize how they are acting. (This was a 3 am woke up in the middle of the night with sweats kind of concept) But, do with that what you will.

💙💜🩵

Slashers x male reader

Headcanons

I don’t really know Norman, since I’ve never watched Psycho, and Patrick. I know Patrick somewhat at least a little cuz I’ve seen clips, so this is all based off wikis, so I hope it’s still good.

Norman Bates

Norman typically seems to have a more subdued and submissive personality, so for you two to be dating, his mom has to be out of the picture somehow. Maybe you guys still run the motel though.

Norman is possessive of you, not wanting to lose you. So you being just as possessive, if not more, in return, would probably tickle him pink even if he doesn’t want to express it. his second personality would enjoy it if you were just as violent too.

It doesn’t seem like Norman registers that hes got some issues himself, so he probably wouldn’t even notice that you had them too, or that you didn’t realize it either. You two are just two guys who are less than stable, but boy are you happy together in your little murder motel.

Patrick Bateman

You two would be like a house on fire, I think. Having someone just like himself if not worse, would only make Patrick more set in stone about his life and decisions. You two would end up clashing heads pretty regularly, since you both have such eccentric personalities, but then it goes back to being a loving relationship again.

You two are unhealthily co-dependent, and you just push each other to be your worst selves. Your worst, well dressed, manicured and intelligent selves. You guys are probably seen as kinda snobby or full of yourselves to everyone else, but you and Patrick have a great time.

You not realizing that you act this way would excite Patrick I think, since that’s the one up he has on you where you are more than him in every other way. It also excites him in other ways, since you are just like this, and this is who you are without all the debating on if this is right or not.

Michael Myers

You guys met at the asylum, that’s the only place I could imagine you two met. How you two got together I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t take long. You are both quiet and terrifying to be around, but it draws you together.

Neither of you talk much, which just results in you guys being able to communicate in silence. When you guys get out, it’s like a date for you two, going on another Halloween killing spree. If walking slowly around, knives in one hand, and holding the others hand in the other, counts as a date. Its romantic to you two, that’s all that matters.

I don’t think Michael himself really thinks about the way hes acting, so he wouldn’t think about it with you either. That’s just how he is, and how you are, and you go together like two misshapen bloody puzzle pieces.

Jason Voorhees

Jason is a serial killer, yes, but he’s also a nice guy if you look past all of that. So, if you are just chill like him most of the time, and partner up with him to get rid of the people who go where they shouldn’t go, then it would be a pretty nice relationship.

If you were even worse than him, then I could see him silently admiring you as you put together traps even, he didn’t think about. You not looking like Jason also means you can leave the forest to go into town and get different equipment, which just ups your game.

Jason doesn’t have much of an opinion on the fact that you don’t realize that you are worse than him, since this is also just the way he is and has been for who knows how many years. He likes that you are like him and that you aren’t scared of him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a huge fan that you are as bad as him or worse. Hes a little creep, so he would start salivating knowing you are watching him back, or seeing how you get rid of your ex on your own when they show up at the mansion.

You two are like gasoline on a fire for the other, since you just fuel the worst parts of each other in the best way, in your shared opinion. This means there’s no reason for Brahms to hide in the walls. He still likes doing it though, just so he can watch you, or you can come after him.

Like a good chunk of the others, Brahms doesn’t really register that he’s pretty messed up himself. Living in isolation for so long will do that to ya. So, it doesn’t really mean anything to him that you don’t realize how you’re acting. He just likes that you watch each other’s freak.

Billy Loomis

It excites Billy in multiple ways that you match his crazy. And by multiple ways, I mean it. It gets his blood pumping and gets him flustered to see you match his plans, or even push them further than he could have ever thought of.

You two are both horror movie obsessed bloodthirsty idiots, who both get way too excited about planning and committing the slashing. You just push each other to be worse, and to push the limits more and more. It makes you more likely to be caught, since you guys fuel each other.

To Billy its so hot that this is just how you are and that you don’t even really realize how you are acting, it’s like you are something walking right out of his deepest fantasies. But he’s has to be the voice of reason, and has to make sure you don’t let anything slip in public, just in case.

Stu Macher

Stu doesn’t seem to be the brightest guy out of the ghostface duo, so he’s probably just hyped that you match him, or go even further than him. If you go further than him, then I can imagine Stu also doing even more. Its kind of a cycle, you do something, and he follows.

It’s also what almost gets you guys caught multiple times, since you don’t really think your plans all the way through, since you both are just too excited and into what’s happening. Stu really likes the thrill of it all though, which leads to a lot of make out sessions.

Stu doesn’t really think about it much himself, that what he does is messed up and wrong, so I can’t imagine him thinking about how you act either. You two are kind of two halves of a whole idiot, and if Billy is around that he has to keep you guys on the right track so you don’t out yourselves or do something dumb.

#male reader #slasher #norman bates #patrick bateman #michael myers #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #billy loomis #stu macher #slasher imagine #slasher headcanon #slasher x male reader #slasher reader #norman bates imagine #norman bates headcanon #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman headcanon #michael myers imagine #michael myers headcanon #jason voorhees imagine #jason voorhees headcanon #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire headcanon #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis headcanon #stu macher imagine #stu macher headcanon #norman bates x reader #patrick bateman x reader #michael myers x reader

[reverieblondie]

So, Astarion is not the best at expressing himself in a healthy manner when he's upset about something and tends to lash out as a result (understandable given everything he has gone through, but understandable is not the same as excusable—it's something he would need to work on in order to have healthy relationships of any kind in the future). One thing I wish the game let us do is point this out to him or confront him about it (both in good and less good ways, because choice is this game's bread and bloody butter); it would have been very interesting to see how he'd react. With all of that said, how do you think he'd react to lashing out at Tav (platonic relationship and/or romantic relationship, but not on bad terms either way) over something that isn't really their fault or because they politely disagreed or something like that, but the instant the words leave his mouth he just sees the hurt fill Tav's expression before they try to end the conversation by just walking away from him (at which point they become rather distant and reserved towards him, though they still make sure he eats). If he immediately tries to backpedal or ends up approaching Tav to apologize after they've been reserved around him for a while, Tav tells him, "Your words didn't hurt me, but you said them with the intention for them to. You wanted to cause me pain. That is what hurt me. That's why I'm upset." then their stoicism begins to crack, and he can see them trying to hold back tears, "What did I do, Astarion? Why did you want to hurt me? What did I do to deserve it?"

I have been sitting on this ask for awhile because Astarion isn’t a character I know much about. I do think he has a great story and his characterization is great but he’s just not one of the companions I have romanticed but I have heard his is one well worth it. Honestly Astarion intimates me to write about because the Astarion girlies LOVE him and I don’t want to mess him up or anger anyone.

But with that said I love this ask because I can see this happening! And I think that this is something Astarion would do I think without fully realizing it, Astarion knows how to manipulate people and it’s his defense mechanism to hurt someone else first before they hurt him. And from everything in his past can you blame him for it? He doesn’t want to hurt anymore so he deflects.

I don’t see Astarion as the backpedaling type he’s the type to walk away and stew on it, I can see him even trying to pull the whole “your still mad darling? Look I’m sorry” But that’s when Tav tells him how much it did hurt how he was so quick to try and hurt them after everything they been through. It’s when Tav asks what they did to deserve that, that causes Astarion to drop his shields.

I’m my mind that’s when Astarion will sigh and open up, he doesn’t reach out for Tav for a hug or a hand hold, but he just lays it all out there. He’s not a good person, he hasn’t been for a very long time but for Tav he wants to learn, he wants to be the person who doesn’t hurt the ones he loves…he doesn’t want to break Tavs trust…just because he has been hurt doesn’t justify for him to hurt others. Tav means so much to him and he understands that Tav doesn’t have to forgive him or anything but he wants them to know that he is going to be someone worthy of Tavs kindness and understanding. He will show it through not only his words but through his actions.

Then it will hopefully led to them reconnecting and being honest, Astarion needs to be with a Tav who is a grade A communicator so when Astarion is feeling hurt they can talk about it in a healthy manner so they can both divulge their thoughts and feelings. Just have patience with him.

Sorry this took so long for me to answer hope this makes sense!

#reverieblondie rambles #bg3 #askreverie #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 asks #bg3 thoughts #astarion x tav #astarion #baldurs gate astarion

[thedamselzelda]

Italian Dreams Ripped At The Seams

Author Chat: The first "chapter" of whatever I'm going to name this series. I'm not entirely sure yet, haven't settled on a name. BUT I have been DYING to post and get the ball rolling. I am in nursing school and I am writing almost everyday when I get home. the ideas are within my notes app, it's just the struggle of sitting down to do it.

Featuring: DarkEra! Dazai Osamu

Summary: Silence, it's something to fear in an already unstable world. In yours, it could mean anything. Your thoughts race as you think to yourself what the silence, the lack of communication, could actually mean, especially when that silence is caused by Dazai.

word count: 3k, fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw (light cursing), reader is occasionally called "Izanami" a nickname given to her bc of her ability (I'll let you try to figure that one out, until then stay tuned), reader is described as having violet eyes bc of her father (mentioned within this chapter) warnings: mentioned of self-harm, suicide attempt

The ceiling of the Italian Villa’s on-suite bathroom was one that could rival the Sistine Chapel ceiling, or at least, you think so. You’d never actually been or had even thought about it while living your life in Yokohama. Perhaps, now with your excruciatingly long stay in Italy, you would find yourself wandering into the building to admire another country’s history and artwork. 

But that is not why you were staring at the ceiling, instead you were mulling through your thoughts of the past week or so. The shortened phone calls, now completely devoid of them, between you and… well he wasn’t exactly your boyfriend. Or was he? You two had openly expressed your feelings, you two fucked around without a care, but was he even exclusively yours?

You scrunched your nose at the thought. That wasn’t exactly the part that irked you. What bothered you was that he had abruptly stopped calling and sending his sweet letters to you six months into your “study abroad” trip that Mori had all but shoved you out for. He was always honest with you, and you with him, so what would change his perception of you now? Was he tired of you? Was he simply that bothered by your leave that distance does not, in fact, make the heart grow fonder?

You splashed more water onto your chest, resting in the warm bath, hoping it would alleviate the migraine that had accumulated while working today. Your last phone call with him wasn’t long enough. It was so short you could remember every syllable that fell from his lips.

“Mori gave him the Silver Oracle, but of course I told him I’d help him even without it.”

“Well, you’re his friend. Did he not believe you?” You brushed your hair, hoping the smell of formaldehyde had been washed away with your evening shower.

“You know he did, but I could still hear some reservations when I spoke to him. Also, you really gotta talk to him about his ‘no killing’ policy.”

You breathe out a laugh, “Look, he’s been wanting me to read those books for the longest. His mantra is his. I’m just gonna let him do him.”

Dazai sighed, knowing far too well that even if your friendship with Oda rivaled that of his, not even you could persuade him. “Oh, I also had to work with your fath- I mean, Hirotsu. I tossed him my game and he totally fucked up my win streak.”

Your eyebrow twitched at hearing the intentional mess up. “Osamu, just commit to the bit next time. Also, why would you even toss your game to him.”

 Dazai chucked on the other side of the receiver, “I had work to do.”

“Oh yes, big mister executive had to go clean up my father’s mess. I see.”

You didn’t hear anything from him for a moment. You knew he was smiling, but it was a solemn one. He knew how much you wanted to be executive. You were born into the mafia, he wasn’t. While it wasn’t technically a birthright, the two of you felt like it was meant to be yours. Pushing back to the previous topic, you spoke again.

“Tell Oda that I’m looking forward to getting a letter from him. He didn’t pick up the phone the last time I called, but it sounds like he’s quite busy with whatever Mori has tasked him with.”

Dazai hummed to you in response, picking his next words carefully. Slipping into rough Italian, as if he couldn’t let anyone know, and spoke, “I’m worried about him.”

Your mouth curled into a frown, placing the brush down on the vanity. You picked your phone up, taking it off speaker, and placing it to your ear.

“How so?” you reply back, your Italian just as rough.

“He’s…” You could tell Dazai hadn’t had as much experience in the language, having only learned it to speak with you while you were in Italy. It was much more help than he could realize, as you were barely able to converse with your mentor, with your native tongue being Japanese and only knowing basic English. Dazai attempted to keep speaking, “He’s up against a skill rival to his. I just don’t foresee any outcome with this group going well.”

You hum back to him this time, unsure of what to say. You had heard through your contacts about this rival group, Mimic. Now, they had taken Ango, one of Dazai’s friends, your acquaintance. You knew dealing with any foreign group such as this always resulted in death, something you were intimately familiar with, so the thought didn’t plague you too much. Rather, the tone of Dazai’s voice and his words meant that it was Oda who could be the one at the center.

You cease speaking Italian, “I’m sure, whatever the outcome, the four of us will end up at Bar Lupin, clinking our drinks together and laughing about all of this in…” You think to yourself how much longer this sentence is, “three and a half years?”

Dazai puffs into the receiver, whining, “That’s too far from now. I’m gonna have to tell Mori I require a much-needed vacation to Italy real soon.”

You laugh, flopping down onto your down bed with satin sheets, “I would like that very much.”

The two of you fall silent, your eyes growing heavier and heavier. The silence was common toward the end of your phone calls. Sometimes, you could swear he would stay on just to hear the sound of your soft breathing. You would have, if that insomniac would ever fall asleep. 

“Bella, you can go to sleep. You’ll get my letter tomorrow. Just imagine I’m reading it to you.”

“It’s not the saammme.” You groan, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I get why Mori would send me here but fuck for four years?! I would serve the organization better if I was there!”

Dazai was silent, almost as if he didn’t want to agree or disagree with your statement.

“He said it was to hone your ability now that he couldn’t focus on you anymore, so I suppose it’s for the Mafia’s benefit more so than yours. You know where I stand regardless.”

“I know.” You voice was light, emphasizing your feelings.

“I’ll be the one that picks you up from the airport, though. I’ll even sweep you up and spin you around if it gives you something to look forward to.”

You roll over, smiling into your pillow.

“You’re definitely going to be dreaming about that now.” He laughs, possibly daydreaming about it already himself.

You chuckle, smothering your flushed face.

“Get some rest, cara mia. I’ll talk to you again in a few days.” His voice was soothing and low in tone, as if he knew his voice was lulling you to sleep.

“Talk to you soon, mon cher.” You sleepily say, waiting for him to end the call-but he doesn’t. You knew he was waiting for you to fall asleep, your eyes closing until you found yourself opening them again in the morning.

You open your eyes once more gazing upon the painted ceiling above you. It had been a week since then, placing you back into your thoughts on why he hadn’t called, written, or at least attempted to contact you in some other form. Even Oda and Mori hadn’t spoken to you. Which placed you in even more confusing thoughts. Surely, you thought to yourself, surely Mori wasn’t eliminating you from the Mafia. If that were the case, you would have already been killed and disposed of, and the mistress of the Villa, nor your mentor were acting anything out of the normal.

You gaze down, pinching the bridge of your nose. Any more thinking on this topic and surely your head would explode, which would be an invited reprieve at this particular moment. Your eyes dance down to the water, noticing your scar, which was deformed by the refracting water. One on your arm, you reached over to touch, remembering how you and Dazai had taken a knife across your arms hoping for it to be a beautiful double suicide, but alas, Mori found the two of you. He stitched up Dazai, forcing you to stitch up your own wound. You could feel a tear breech and slide down your cheek.

The great Izanami does not cry.

You grab onto the porcelain tub, pressing yourself deeper into the water, forcing your neck, then your face into the water. You open your eyes underneath the water, holding yourself there. Perhaps, if Dazai is done with you-if Oda is done with you-then maybe this is how you should go. You release some air from your lungs, allowing you to sink further under the water. You release your hands from the sides, submerging them, too.

Your lungs begin to burn, screaming for you to go up for air, but you refuse. You blink as you hear a garbled voice within the bathroom. If it is the mistress, there was nothing she could do to stop you. One touch and she would be gone. She knew the rule when it came to you. You blink again, seeing a dark outlined figure standing above the tub. You think to yourself, maybe it is him. However, if it is, he would have already pulled you up. So, it couldn’t be.

You find yourself gasping at fresh air as someone pulls you up from behind, their small hands snaking under your arms.

“Honestly, could you please not kill yourself? I’ve invested too much into you.”

You blink as your eyes burned slightly from the water falling from your lashes. A hand towel is handed to you, and you wipe your face roughly before looking behind you.

“Thank you, Elise.” Mori says sweetly to the girl. She rolls her eyes at you, annoyed that she had to soak her dress to retrieve you.

“What are you doing here?” You say in a harsh tone, irritated that he has interrupted yet another attempt.

“I can come and go as I please, since I am the one funding this education of yours.” His voice returns to the irritated, tired tone that he always uses with you. He’s taken a seat at the chair beside the tub, placing a medium navy-blue box tied in gold ribbon on the side table along with a tan file folder.

“I haven’t heard from you in a week. So, I ask again, what are you doing here?” You become irritated by his intrusion, and deviation from your original question.

You sit up within the tub, not caring for his gaze upon you. He was your technical guardian after all, and you knew his interest in young girls. However, you were unbothered by his now as you neared adulthood, his interest had wavered in you increasingly. The only thing that bound the two of you now was his ownership of you and your ability.

“I suppose you were going about your days here in the villa, wondering what the outcome was with Mimic, since I suppose he told you a bit about the issue.”

Mori was visibly irritated, testing to see how much Dazai told you via your late-night calls. The two of you knew it was very risky to converse about such delicate matters, regardless of what form they were put into. However, you longed to be home, so Dazai had frequently indulged you.

“I just know Oda was involved. That’s all.” You tone was steady, you had lied to Mori countless times before, this time was evidently no different.

He arched his eyebrow, studying your face. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s resolved anyway. We got the permit.”

He closed his eyes in thought. You in turn began to study him, curious as to why he would come to the villa just to inform you of the Port Mafia’s success.

“That can’t be the only reason you’re here.” You turn in the tub, your legs folding into your chest as you cock your head. “To what to I truly owe this intrusion, Mori?”

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes darted between your violet ones, formulating his next words. “Sakunosuke Oda unfortunately passed during the fight against Mimic.”

Your eyes widen as you lean forward. You breathe out the only word that can formulate against your thoughts. A broken, “No,” escaping your lips.

Mori closes his eyes once more, leaning his head forward slightly, “And Dazai has disappeared. We do not know his whereabouts.”

“What?!” You spring up from the tub, water splashing about the floor and onto Elise and Mori. Elise groans, reaching for a bigger towel and tossing it to you. You wrap it around your body, attempting to create your next sentence against your pounding headache. “No, he… he would have said something. He would have contacted me. He wouldn’t…”

Your words trailed off as if they couldn’t follow your thoughts.

“Therefore, I came here because you needed to be informed of your new position. Or rather, the one you will take on once you finish here in Italy.”

You could barely hear him over your last conversation with Dazai playing out once more in your head.

"I’ll talk to you again in a few days… You’ll get my letter tomorrow.”

You hadn’t actually received the letter, which is what triggered your incessant thoughts. You had gone up to the mistress, day after day, asking if the letter had arrived, yet nothing came.

“While I am completely optimistic that Dazai will return.” Your eyes narrowed, anger seething from your gritted teeth. “I am leaving his executive position open for his return. In the meantime, you will assume a specially made executive position, and I have the documents to a club and a casino I would like for you to have control over to start with.”

He tapped to the file next to the navy-blue box.

“What’s the box for then?” Your eyes glance to the beautifully decorated box, curious to what could be contained within it.

“Dazai passed it to me a few days before he left, wanted me to send it to you. Instead, I thought it would soften the blow of the pervious news.” His hand fanned over the box in a presenting motion. “It’s been screened of course. Couldn’t have a defected member sending you something that would cause my newest executive to defect too.”

He gave a sly smile. He knew of your relationship with Dazai, but he also knew you feared a life without the Mafia more.

You sneered at him, “Why would I want that from a defected member?”

Your words were merely show, something to appease Mori since you had just been given your prize, however, it wasn’t for all your hard work of the past years. Rather, it was desperation on Mori’s part to hold you closer within his clutches.

“My, my… I didn’t expect you to be so cold when it comes to Dazai.” Mori stood chuckling but leaving the box behind anyway.

He began to walk toward the closed bathroom door, Elise opening it to escape the humid air within the room. He turned on his heel, however, before breeching back into your private room.

“I expect greatness from you, Izanami. Do not fail me.” It echoed within your head as more of an order, rather than a statement.

You emit a low growl at the name, hating to hear it from him of all Mafia members.

He smiled, pleased by your response, and closed the door behind him.

You wait for a moment, listening for the next click of the door being closed. Once you heard the faint noise of Mori’s departure, you scrambled, nearly slipping, from the tub. You grabbed the plush robe from the chair, donning it instead of the towel you had been holding up. Once you had tied the robe, you tear the gold ribbon from the box, haphazardly letting it flutter to the floor. Your hands hesitate with the lid. What if he knew he was leaving? What if…?

You sit down in the chair, placing the heavy midnight box within your lap. You take a deep breath, lifting the lid and placing it upon the file. Your fingers gingerly graze the gray tissue covering the contents, trembling. You notice a splash of darkness appearing on the gray paper. You harshly rub the remaining tears from your cheeks.

Why are you so afraid to look? To see the last thing he’s left you? Because it’s the last. There is no more Dazai. He’s dead as far as the, now, executive you are concerned, but the young girl in you? The one who’s lost the one person on this God-forsaken earth that could touch you without consequence? She was afraid.

You began to peel back the tissue paper, first noticing the maroon color peeking out within the box. Your finger grazed upon the soft material as you remove the right covering paper. Your fingers go to touch your lips, a small choking gasp escaping through them as your tears now forcefully fall from your eyes. It was a scarf he had bought because you had remarked how it complemented his eyes, yet he could never bring himself to wear it, stating it reminded him too much of Mori. You attempted to pick it up from within the box, but you discovered the additional contents that had been wrapped within. Three books, all too familiar to you shifted underneath the scarf. You could hear yourself begin to sob as you picked up the last remaining things of Oda’s clutching the items to your chest. You pressed your face into the scarf, hoping to find some comfort, smelling burnt gunpowder and a faint woody scent, reminiscent of him. 

You could barely see through your tears, almost missing the final present that graced you.

In Italian, evident that he attempted way too many times to write the note, Happy Birthday, Bella. All my love. ~O <3

If I forgot to tag anything, or forgot to mention anything in the warnings, please let me know! I'm still just trying to figure all this out after using Wattpad for so long.

Thank you to everyone who reads this though! Hope you enjoy and look forward to what's to come!

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd x you #darkera Dazai

[guiltygearconfessions]

ive never felt a stronger urge to say good riddance in my life. this blog has caused months upon months of discourse, made the tag for my favorite character near unsearchable as a result of it, and i could not be happier to see it go. i am over the fucking moon. no longer will i have to see these mile long thinkpieces about why someone is a terrible person for their opinion on the writing on a video game when i just want to look at art or content made by the community. Good Fucking Riddance, may you never return, and may we be free of what this blog has caused forever on top of that. i wish i could say this hasnt stained my view of you as a person too but it has. im happy youve realized that this wasnt a good idea now, but if only you did that months earlier, things wouldnt be so terrible!

Hmm. So while I've gotten (and ignored) plenty of messages of this sort over the course of running this blog, I think I'd like to post this one just to give a sort of sense as to why this blog hasn't been particularly good for me mentally.

I have nothing against you, anon, but I do hope you don't speak to people like this in real life. You're more than welcome to have blocked this blog to avoid its content, by all means! I understand the constant flow of posts can be a little annoying. There have been plenty of posts on this blog that I myself have vehemently disagreed with, but the point of being a confessions blog is that I'm not only open to posts that back my own opinions. If it were, I would just...post my own opinions.

And, admittedly, while I understand the frustration towards discourse 'mile long thinkpieces,' I'm not sure if sending me five multiparagraph submissions on how terrible I am and why I should kill myself for running a tumblr blog about fighting games is the best way to express that. Nonetheless, I still wish you the best.

#not a confession #tw suicide

[different-pridemonthera]

Hello, I'm not a native English speaker, but as a part of the queer community, I'd love to write a lengthy post to express my thoughts on why I find it absurd for people to criticize an actual canon queer ship for a queerbaiting ship, especially during Pride Month.

Originally thought that since the season finale was coming, I wouldn't make sharp comments anymore. Just wait for Season 8. The ship war that has been bubbling with noise previously is actually quite boring, especially those who can't tell what status virtual characters really are, and insist on picking out character issues, hoping that the character will die as soon as possible. The even lower-intelligence ones are those who can't tell the difference between characters and reality, and rush to attack the actors, trying to drive the actors away. It only leaves people speechless, feeling like I am facing a group of stereotypical teenagers across the network.

Then, as soon as Pride Month rolled around again, the 911 twt community's largest fan news account stirred up controversy by including a photo of Buddie among a group of canon queer characters to celebrate Pride Month. Personally, I don't have strong feelings about it. Firstly, Pride Month is all about inclusivity and acceptance. Secondly, it's a fan account and they can post what they want. Thirdly, Buddie, being one of the hottest queerbaiting ships in the 9-1-1 fandom, would undoubtedly be featured during Pride Month. While this might have happened in previous years too, but this year was different due to a major development in season 7, Buck's bisexual awakening, along with a new canon queer ship bucktommy/tevan that's currently in development.

Firstly, I don't think that just because Buck and Tommy became canon, it means you can't still ship Buddie. Ship culture is basically about shipping anything you want.

However, I also understand why some people might have issues with celebrating Pride Month with Buddie after the Buck and Tommy canon. The reality is many people forget that Buddie is a classic example of queerbaiting (it even made it to Wikipedia's queerbaiting page as a typical case). Or, more accurately, many people don't realize that queerbaiting, as a marketing strategy, is actually harmful to the real LGBTQ+ community. From a queer perspective, queerbaiting is simply a way to attract viewers by consuming the LGBTQ+ community, and the characters involved are essentially detached from reality. In a sense, any interactions they have that seem chemically charged are meaningless. A more specific example would be in Season 7 when Buck comes out, and Oliver, the actor, immediately receives private messages from closeted firefighters thanking him. This kind of thanks would not have happened during any scene between Buck and Eddie in seasons 2-6, especially when both characters had girlfriends. There is almost no real LGBTQ+ person could truly relate to such scenes. However, the possibility implied by queerbaiting exactly hits their desire for resonance. This is why I believe canon is important, only through canon can characters connect most closely with the real LGBTQ+ community. How much can a queerbaiting ship (where Eddie doesn't even have a canon LGBTQ+ character identity) contribute to the real LGBTQ+ community? Especially when fans of this queerbaiting ship hope that a canon queer ship with a clear positive impact will bone? Now it's even starting to reject TV shows that show two men flirting with daddy issue jokes. I ship buddie for Almost 5 years, My personal reason for wanting Buddie to become canon besides the chemistry was largely because I didn't want them to continue queerbaiting: they should officially get together or clearly not be together. Now that Buck has become bi, Buddie has slowly shifted into a ship baiting nature, but it cannot be denied that Buddie was queerbaiting before.

And I've been thinking that Eddie is gay for a long time, even though some so-called "insiders" have recently revealed that the ana breakup line is a precursor to his being gay, I still don't understand the so-called queer code, can you call it a queer code when every heterosexual relationship doesn't end well? Then it seems that every scumbag is a queer code, not to mention the fact that Ryan himself explicitly mentioned the word heterosexual in his interview describing buck's coming out scene to Eddie. Do the people who think Eddie is gay really know what sexual orientation means? The point is to be sexually attracted to men and only men. Eddie has been shown enjoying heterosexual sex on more than one occasion so far, and even Michael (Athena's ex-husband) came out at the beginning of the show and then made it clear that he would never have sex with Athena again. is it okay for a gay man to have heterosexual sex? Maybe it is. But do gay people enjoy heterosexual sex? You've got to be kidding me! Eddie being a bisexual or pansexual makes a lot more sense to me than being gay. Secondly the speculation about Eddie being Demisexual, Honestly, I didn't understand the concept of Demisexual very well, but I really don't think he's very Demisexual, he and shannon got back together only by having sex when they had relationship problems, and now he and marisol are already having sex frequently without having progressed to the point where they can cohabitate, does that really fit the definition of Demisexual? I just not so sure.

And even if Eddie is gay/Demisexual doesn't mean buddie canon, another point I really want to say is that almost most buddie fans feel that the character's sexuality can only be a PLOT DEVICE in the service of buddie, which is why the atmosphere in the fanbase was still harmonious during the period after s7ep4 and before ep5, because in the interview tim mentioned that the next episode of bucktommy's date didn't go well, and everyone didn't take Tommy's character seriously, thinking that Tommy was a tool, and that he would leave soon, and then buck would go and develop buddie obediently, which is actually a very good indication that they didn't take buck's bisexuality seriously too, and then they found out that bucktommy's coffee date was thriving again in the ep5 finale, which immediately starts attacking the character tommy and the actor lou because they are in buddie canon's way. Oliver mentions that there was a bi buck plot in s4, and in the absence of any information mentioning eddie they immediately think it's buddie canon again, and that all of buck's and eddie's sexuality The correlation can only be to run to buddie, there is no possibility of the two of them each finding someone else. At the end of the day they see buck as eddiesexual and Eddie as bucksexual (in fact shannonsexual would seem to make more sense), come on it's not even a sexual orientation. It's funny how tim coming back and making buck bi but not developing buddie gets called out as well, and how some people think that everyone calling out KR before was actually wrong about KR, and how some people think that buddie is the right character and actor meeting the wrong author and writer, it's really humorous and interesting thought.

All in all, can you heterosexuals who love queerbaiting ship move aside during pride month and stop pretending to be ally while attacking a real canon queer ships? and can the queer who love queerbaiting realize the dangers of queerbaiting? ...... but at the end of the day they are all virtual characters and it's up to the writers to write them, I'd love to see them make Buddie canon, but it's not even close to that day, Let's really canon queer ship bucktommy have a good time with their first pride month please.

thank you for reading, happy pride month!🏳️‍🌈

#bucktommy #tevan #stop queerbaiting #pride month #no more fighting please #It's just my personal opinion #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #911 show