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#drop dead festival
hammerbones · 4 months
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medi-melancholy · 1 year
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lil chibi class pic doodle i did for fun a while back :’) my kids.....
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vilevampire · 9 months
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official arts that I am frankly incapable of being normal about
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A few weeks ago I went to a fantasy/anime/nerd festival and the fact that there was nothing Greyjoy themed irked me a lot. I searched online and nothing cool showed up, so I went "you know what? I'm making one myself"
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"What is dead may never die" is probably my favourite quote, imho it feels incredibly motivational. As the huge sea thalassophile that I am, I draw sea stuff and octopus motifs in particular a bit everywhere anyway, people won’t get the ASOIAF reference but still, they’ll think it’s just me being me lol. Added the arrow and the weirwood leaf because Theon.
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anarchywoofwoof · 8 months
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nihilism is not punk. doomerism is not punk. quitting is not punk.
the stark reality is that if they announced there was 24 hours before a giant comet hit the earth, i would find reason to fight and advocate and celebrate in the ensuing chaos up to the final seconds.
punk is walking into every situation and punching it in the mouth regardless of how big it is or the dominion it holds over your existence.
punk is hope and growth and love and fury and anger and passion and spit in the face of hostile forces.
punk is community and mutual aid and soup kitchens and block parties and festivals and little libraries and clothes drop boxes.
punk is dancing on the deck of a sinking ship because hey you motherfuckers i didn’t hear the music stop.
punk is having the hope for something better on behalf of those who can’t see it right now.
punk is not dead. punk is not dead. punk is not dead. punk is not dead. punk is not dead. punk is not dead.
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chrollohearttags · 15 days
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𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇: 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊
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synopsis: many moves are being made for the talent of AMG and two fourths of the Dead Boys Society collective, Ony The God and Prince Cee, find themselves thrust even further into the spotlight after their freestyle goes viral. But their musical skills aren’t the only thing that has people talking. As it’s during this interview that the duo find themselves in an exchange of heated words with an infamous DJ..who names drop their fellow group member and brother, EJ the Don in reference to recent scandals. Will the pair clear up the rumors circulating the net or will they leave it all in his hands to set the record straight? Meanwhile, (Y/N) meets up with Mikasa prior to PalmFest to discuss another opportunity she has lined up for her. It’s here that the manager informs her that she’ll be receiving the opportunity of a lifetime to work with a brand she’s loved since childhood. But that isn’t the only thing she has to divulge to the upcoming influencer. What is Mika hiding from her client? Ahead of the festival, Jean and his infamous band prepare to make their much anticipated return to the stage but before this, he teams up with the girls of the Pole Assassins for what is set to be the collab of the century and to solicit some friendly advice to the headstrong leader. But he isn’t the only one with a grand plan up his sleeve and it seems that everyone will be pulling out the stops to give Miami and the world a night worth remembering. Who’ll take the stage and who’ll steal the show?
word count: 8.2K
content + themes: mentions of drugs, humor, light angst, mentions of fighting, minor smut/sexual themes (jeankasa crumbs), alcohol use, multiple character cameos, language
“This gon’ be our year, believe that..we made it this far and we ain’t gon’ stop.”
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Summertime. One of the liveliest and busiest times of the year for many. Most were preparing for vacation, on break from school or just enjoying the various happenings around their area..but for those that were employed and contracted under AMG, this was far from a time of leisure. With the recent announcement of the much anticipated PalmFest, it had caused a dramatic shift in the company. Not only that, word of the festival had begun to make waves around social media. Fans were sharing the banner and their enthusiasm for the lineup. Many were scrambling, tweeting about how they were needing to come up with quick cash to attend for the weekend. Tickets were set to go on sale in the next few days, so naturally, the sales and advertising team would be exceptionally busy. But they wouldn’t be the only ones busy preparing for the influx of attention that was set to be coming their way.
“Okay, okay..so everybody is talking, going crazy over the internet about this new song and lemme tell y’all..it’s worth every bit of the hype. It’s definitely a hit..song of the summer for sure. I’m rocking wit’ it, so many other people are too..but we all gotta know, how did it come about? What’s the story behind Nike Tech?” two men sat adjacent to a woman with a lighter complexion..all three with microphones pursed to their lips as they were perched and bolted to the table in front of them. Both with shaved heads, marked with dyed designs..chains dangling from their necks and grills lining the insides of their mouths when they flashed those perfect smiles. Prince Cee and Ony The God, two halves of the Dead Boys Society collective. Their styles could be best described as hypercharged trap and upbeat melodies that would hype up even the deadest of crowds. Make no mistake, the men did create more emotional pieces, detailing their rough upbringings in the heart of inner city Miami and the Dominican Republic. But they much rather preferred music that made people feel good! Too often had they seen the reality of what the streets could do to them so now that they had made it to the opposite side of the tracks..naturally, they wanted to pay homage to those they lost but they wanted people to smile more than anything. To dance and most importantly, fine women to shake their asses to it!
“Well, you know we was just messin’ ‘round one night, having fun and it came to us.
Ony, or Onyakapon was born to a Haitian father and an African American mother, who was born in Nigeria and raised in Opa Locka. He was always described as bright, intelligent and sweet with a kind heart. A star athlete to his core. He loved basketball and singing. He was brought up in the church, where he learned to fine tune that beautiful voice but quickly found the streets unwillingly. He saw gun violence..drugs and weapons being stuffed under the counters by his uncles and father. It was rough but he still persisted. He played basketball, was on the swim team and played football, all while maintaining a four point two grade point average. He was a star on the field and court, no doubt. But where did he truly shine? Behind a microphone. He and Connie attended the same high school, where they eventually went on to meet EJ..who had just enrolled to finish his junior and senior years. The three would play sports, write music and dream about the future. Regardless of their differences, all three boys had the same goal: change the world with music! A manifestation turned into reality only five years later. From sitting in the lunchroom, making beats on the table to opening for Denzel Curry and Raider Clan. The boys found their fame through Soundcloud a couple years after Eren’s viral video..
filmed at the same shoe store they all worked at..years later and they were all at the height of their game. Now, the guys were preparing for their very first global tour after finishing up their second country wide one. It was a dream come true. But with every whimsical dream follows harsh realities and lately, it had begun to rear its ugly head in the form of a rumor mill surrounding their fellow group mate, EJ himself. There was so much speculation swirling around that the seasoned rapper was dealing with everything from substance abuse to potentially announcing retirement. Granted, they were all baseless and quite frankly, dumb as fuck. However, it didn’t stop interviewers and fans alike from probing the question. And when they couldn’t get the answer straight from the source, they’d have to do the next best thing..
“Yeah, we was just looking to make sum’ that everybody could enjoy.” Chiming in shortly after was Connie Springer, or known by his stage moniker as Prince Cee. The Dominican Republic born, Dade County raised rapper who got his start initially by making songs with his older and younger brothers but ultimately, the two of them decided to give up their supposed pipe dreams for careers in the family restaurant business. As the proud middle child of two immigrant parents, who worked extremely hard to not only provide for their three sons but to essentially live the American dream. It was this same determination and hard work ethic that heavily inspired Connie’s pursuit of his passion. All throughout middle and high school, he would spend hours on end penning lyrics about the various experiences that he had growing up. From migration to witnessing drug deals right in front of him..serving as a journal of sorts. What began as free therapeutic relief soon turned into the catalyst for the inception of Prince Cee. He and Ony had long met as youth football players with the Pop Warner program. But their friendship only grew stronger over time, especially when they discovered that the two of them shared a very strong interest in becoming musicians. By their junior year, the pair had written five songs between the two of them and even recorded one track once EJ joined the fray. After that, the rest was history..needless to say, all of their success were because of one another. Without each other’s support, there was no telling where they would have wound up. But it seemed as if not everyone was in support of this feel good story. In the midst of Eren’s recent arrests, there had not only been speculation of a possible retirement but issues among the group. Many online believed that Connie and Ony would be parting ways with their fellow group mate because of the stigma and that essentially, they had grown tired of ‘living in his shadow’. However, they were here to clear the air once and for all!
“Alright, so while we’re here, gentlemen. You know we gotta talk about it..your homeboy, EJ..he’s been a bit of a hot topic lately. For reasons we not gon’ talk about but we did wanna address some other things and get your opinion on it.”
sat slightly slouched in their seats with their hands propping up their chins..the two gentlemen glared intently at the interviewer. They had a gut feeling that this question would arise at some point during this but they were not in the mood for it, if they were being frank. First and foremost, what happened to their brother was not only frustrating for him but no one’s business and his own to sort through. Certainly not on a platform like this. Hell, they might as well have been cackling with The ShadeRoom themselves! “Nah man, we told y’all before we even came up in here that we wasn’t answering no questions like that.” “Yeah, that ain’t even our situation to speak on, for real..” the gentlemen would suck their teeth before dismissing her preemptive questioning with the wave of a hand. However, it seemed that others were keen on pushing the issue!
“I mean, we just wanna set the record straight..your boy been in the game for some time now. One of the greatest of all time, but lately, he’s had some trouble. Not gon’ lie..so do y’all think that’s a good look for y’all too? Will y’all ever get tired of playing second best to EJ?”
suddenly, the whole studio was met with silence outside of the faint crackle of the microphones and a nearby producer gasping before she even knew it. They were almost certain that viewers would hear and a clip would be making its rounds on the internet by lunch time. Fans of the collective would be ripping the controversial DJ to shreds on social media. However, before any would-be fangirls or blogs could join the fray, the two gentlemen would eat him alive themselves! Ony, who was always more docile and collected in nature..the quietest in the group by far, had honestly had quite enough of this antagonistic and downright, stupid ass interview! Connie, who was all but gripping the arms of his leather chair, ready to fly off the handle was instead, halted by his friend with a palm to his chest.
“Nah, cause what the fu—“
“Hol’ on, bro..I got it.”
not a man of many words outside of his incredible music and select interviews, Ony had implored Eren’s approach early on and because of it, fans adored him that much more. Women fawned all over the very handsome, sexy, charismatic rapper with beautiful dark skin and his signature gold slugs wrapped around his teeth. It was also because of this, that he, much like EJ..was not to be fucked with! If they knew what was good for them, they’d call this session quits now. Grasping the microphone, Ony would flash a smirk, almost huffing and laughing to himself because he knew the words about to leave his mouth were not kind ones and he had been known to have quite the silver tongue. He didn’t mince words and he damn sure didn’t spare feelings, especially when it comes to those he cared about. Everybody could die behind his family..
“Lemme ask you sum’…out of all the years my boy been doing this, just like you said..how many times has he been invited on your show? Hmm? How many times have you reached out for an interview or asked him to come perform for y’all?” The question seemed to invoke both confusion and uncomfortability in the man. A dumbfounded expression on his face..akin to that of a scorned and scolded child. “Up until now, how many times has Dead Boys been on this radio station? Yall ain’t never played our shit, ain’t never invited us on and when you do, it’s for sum’ bullshit. See, this is why ion’ do these lil’ podcasts and shit, y’all talk more than bitches do. Y’all knew what it was before we even came up in here and y’all still gon’ play in our face. All this you see, we did without a deal, we did it without a label, we ain’t had to check in with no nigga in our city to get put on. We ain’t got to run up in everybody else's hood to make it. We ain’t these lil’ 360 ass niggas, we own all ours and that man EJ? Ain’t got nothing but love and all the respect in the world for him because he’s cut from the same cloth. We did this together, that’s our family..this music shit, it means everything to us and if y’all can’t respect him, then y’all don’t respect us and that means we done here..”
Without missing so much as a beat, Ony removed his headset and Connie followed..despite the pleas from the interviewers. But before the gentlemen could exit for good, Connie left them with one more statement that would solidify their stance on the matter. “And since ya’ll watching, just wait until that next album drops. We’ll see who the real great is. All them rumors and shit? Gon’ be put to rest. Let’s go.” And with that, the two of them turned on their heels without so much as even glancing back at the radio hosts. It may not have been their situation, but they handled it on his behalf and for anyone who may have been doubting them, EJ or their collective in general, were about to be in for a rude awakening. They had come too far to allow negative opinions and messy ‘journalists’ to diminish their shine. By the time this hit the internet, their words would be undoubtedly misconstrued but they were not about to let this stop them. If anything, it ignited the dormant spark lying underneath them to go harder. To prove people like that wrong and to show everybody what they were truly made of. Determined..now more than ever to step their game up. This time, it was personal!
“This gon’ be our year, believe that..we made it this far and we ain’t gon’ stop. Me, Connie, EJ, Armin..all of us. We ‘bout to put this industry on its head.”
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meanwhile, the boys weren’t the only ones preparing to make moves..whilst EJ and the rest of his collective were suiting up for PalmFest, album rollouts and such, (y/n) was about to receive some rather unexpected and great news yourself. Unbeknownst in your absence and amid your sabbatical, your manager had been working diligently to secure you a once in a lifetime deal..one that could potentially change the trajectory of your career in an instant.
“I’m sure you’re dying to know what it’s inside…go on, open it.”
currently, you were seated across from her at an outdoor table, overlooking the picturesque Miami waters. The Lapis Lounge was the place to be for anyone who was anyone in this town. Crisp white, designer linen draped marble tables with intricately arranged flowers placed in the center. Wine glasses filled with Pellegrino, shimmered underneath the sunlight; sliced lemons decorating the rim and square China plates sat before the both of you with aesthetically plated dishes that cost more than anything you’d ever dined on willingly. It never not dawned on you how surreal your life was each time you found yourself in these scenarios. Even now, as you chatted with her, intermittently shoving a spoon of panna cotta in your mouth, you couldn’t help but to dwell on the fact that this amount of money could’ve gotten you at least three fish plates and a good tray of oxtails on your side of town! Nonetheless, you’d tremble with anticipation..hands scaling the medium sized, gift wrapped box sat before you. A present, courtesy of Mikasa, who had been brandishing it when you arrived. It was pink with holographic foiling with a tag and bow on top that read: “To (y/n) (l/n). We hope you enjoy it.” You were honestly dumbfounded as to what it could be. But anticipation would not have to kill you any longer as you began to unravel the bow and open up the gift. Your expression would immediately change once you figured out what was beneath all that wrapping paper. Switching from a gaze of utter confusion to a wide gasp complete with a smile.
“Oh my God!—no way…” you were completely taken aback and could, at that very moment..burst into tears but you restrained yourself. Trying to construct and form a thought before speaking. “M-miss..Miss Ackerman, what is this?” “Exactly as it says..congratulations, sweetheart. You’re the new cover girl for Moschino. They sent that to my office this morning and said that they’d love for you to star in their next perfume ad.” You were in utter shock and disbelief. Beyond words even..for anyone that knew you, the (y/n) before the fame..you were quite the dresser. Prior to even coming up on money, you never disappointed when it came to your outfits, hair or makeup. Sporting the most eclectic and well coordinated pieces that could never work for anyone else but you. Outdressing the girls in school who needed brand names to compete but you’d outshine their fly every single time on a budget at a fraction of the price..shopping at the stores they’d deem ‘ghetto’ or lesser, styling your own hair and makeup with nothing but products from the beauty supply down the road from your house and coming to class with all eyes directed at you. Needless to say, you had never really had any use for designer duds. But if there was one fancy label that had piqued your interest, it was Moschino. Everything about it just made you fawn..from its avant- garde pieces, vibrant designs to unique aesthetics, you became obsessed. Although you were no bougie fashion snob, you often dreamed of getting to rock at least one of their pieces. Whether it be a handbag or a thrifted coat, you’d always wanted at least one. And now, years later..your manifestation has become reality! Excited wasn’t even the correct word..feigning back tears, you’d cackle and begin scouring the large PR package they had gifted you. Including their new Moschino Toy 2 Collection, along with their spring 2024 collection.
“And that’s not even the best part. Both Fenty brands actually reached out to me this morning as well with a proposal to feature you in their newest catalogs. I have the contracts for all three offers right here whenever you’re ready. If you agree, you can sign and you’ll officially be on the affiliate payroll..what do you think?”
you were at an utter loss for words. How could you even describe what it was that you were feeling? Honestly, every bit of it felt surreal. There was no way that you, of all people, were about to grace the ad pages for Moschino, Fenty Beauty and Savage x Fenty all in the same month. Not to mention being in two acts for the upcoming PalmFest. Getting to model and truly tap into your creative expression with photoshoots of your own making. The conceptual art, the budget of your choosing..it was a dream come true! Leaning back against your seat, you’d release a faint gasp, slowly shaking your head in utter disbelief as you attempted to feign back tears. It seemed as if you were just overcome with emotion as of late. Not so much from any hardships but the exact opposite. Oftentimes had you prayed for days like this and everything you’d ever hoped for was finally coming into fruition. It was almost as if your star had completely ascended overnight and it wasn’t lost on you that it happened shortly after signing onto Mikasa’s roster. And of course, after meeting Eren. Naturally, you’d never attribute your success to a man unless it was the one upstairs. However, you were grateful that she had thrown you two together that night!
“I..I honestly don’t know what to say. Thank you so much, Ms. Mika. I’m honored and I promise I will do the best I can to make you proud.” hoisting your glass to make a toast; met with soft giggles and a raised champagne flute in return. “Please, you’ve far exceeded that expectation. Just keep doing what you do best, stay genuine and I’ll make certain that you go far in this business.” Just as poised as ever, sipping from her champagne flute when stating so. However, that serene look in her eyes soon dissipated when you brought up the next topic of discussion. One that you had no idea was such a sore subject for your manager. “It’s crazy what a couple months can do. I mean, I was just backstage with EJ, getting a pep talk about how to navigate the crowd. ‘Swear..wouldn’t have known what to do if it wasn’t for him. He’s so much nicer than what everyone said too but I’m sure you already knew–” before you had the opportunity to complete your long winded tangent, singing the rapper’s praises, Mikasa would ingest a big gulp before clearing her throat. It took a moment for you to notice the shift in her mood and her facial expressions but you immediately became concerned. “Is everything okay?” “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just got strangled, is all..” Prompting you to focus your attention on her wellbeing rather than your newest fling and her sworn enemy on the moment. Truth be told, she hadn’t exactly confronted her issues with Eren head on. Ever since that day in his studio, she had felt nothing but pure rage in her heart whenever the thought even so much as crossed her mind. Honestly, she had nothing to say to him or about him but she’d be lying if she said that the prospect of both their professional and business relationship being annulled..wouldn’t sting. Years of friendship, hard work, determination, advocating for one another and fighting their way to the top of the industry as a power duo, all down the drain over a stupid fight. She couldn’t blame Eren for his reaction but it didn’t make his words sting any less. Make no mistake, she still believed in him and his ability to make a comeback but it was going to take some time before she was able to see him as a manager or friend..
“You seem to really like Eren..” the comment sends a pang to the very pit of your stomach, making you quickly try to recant your earlier statements and downplay the oversharing of feelings for the seasoned rapper. However, that glimmer in your eye and visible reaction in body language was a dead giveaway. You could no longer fake your feelings for EJ the Don and if anyone saw through the facade, it was her.
“Well, ya know..he’s cool. He just helped me–
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You don’t have to mince words with me. Trust me, that boy’s got your head so far in the clouds, I think you may float away.” It was official, she had you pegged just as well as your best friends. It was blatantly obvious that the two of you had something serious going on..whether you wanted to admit that fact to yourselves or not. Lowering your head, (Y/N) released a soft chuckle in half relief and half embarrassment. You were acting like an airheaded schoolgirl over a man you barely even knew and everyone around you had obviously peeped.
“Listen, (y/n)..I’ll be honest with you. Eren and I? We’re not exactly on good terms at the moment. Hell, even bringing up his name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll spare you the gritty details but..as it stands, he’s no longer my client and certainly not my friend. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to be alarmed or in the dark about any awkward tension..in the event we all happen to end up in the same circle. PalmFest is right around the corner and truthfully..I don’t know if I have it in my heart to forgive him. I don’t know if he can forgive me either..” The declaration was made through restrained tears and obvious hurt. You’d never seen your manager break her stoic and calm demeanor once since you’ve known her but now? She was completely different. More vulnerable and certainly more emotional than she’d ever gotten but she had to keep her cool. Put on that brave facade and try not to let it get to her. Also, she could see the visible shock on your face and how saddened you looked by the revelation. You hated confrontation and the idea of your potential beau and your manager being at odds was not good. You could tell they were very close and although it was certainly none of your business, you hoped they reached a resolution soon.
“I’m also telling you this because I don’t think that my or anyone else’s opinion should stand in the way of you two being happy. Regardless of how I feel about him right now..Eren was one of the very few people in my life that kept me grounded when I needed it most. He’s never really gotten excited about anything outside of music or work..but I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, I’ve never seen that man smile as much as I have since you showed up.”
This revelation was certainly news to you! Even though you didn’t want to read much into it or get carried away, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t one hell of a confidence boost! The cold hearted ice king, EJ the Don himself..gushing over the likes of you? You were shocked! But he obviously had a thing for you. Whether that was just lust or perhaps something more..was yet to be determined. In the meantime, your manager had one last tidbit of friendly advice for you. As woman to woman.
“I don’t know what it is about you but you obviously make him very happy and I can tell that he’s done the same for you. That’s important in this business…hold on to that. I don’t know two people who are more deserving.” In that moment, behind the strict expressions and no nonsense persona, Mikasa seemed to falter just a bit in that moment. Softening right before your eyes..it was very clear that she meant every single word that left her mouth. She wanted to see Eren happy even if she had to do so from the sidelines as someone who was no longer a part of his life. And you? She had never seen someone so kind, energetic and sweet before. She’d heard first hand from Niesha how much a workaholic you were and despite you just getting started, you deserved at least a bit of a reward. Hoisting your glass once more, you’d flash her a bright beaming smile, even giggling a bit to feign off crying because it took nothing for you to become emotional..especially when sentimental statements like that were involved.
“Thank you Miss Mika..I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. Just promise me you’ll stay focused and keep your eyes on the prize. You’ve worked so hard. Don’t let anyone get in the way of that.”
“You have my word..”
With that, the two of you clinked your champagne flutes together and took obligatory swigs of the bubbly concoction inside. Rinsing away the intensity of the previous conversation. Now it was back to more pertinent matters!
“That’s my girl..now, back to this photoshoot. Let’s talk about the details because I have a few ideas that I think you’ll just absolutely adore..”
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page break and time skip: two days later
Hard Rock Stadium: Stage A, Miami Beach
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With the long anticipated PalmFest approaching a lot sooner rather than later, it seemed that everyone as a collective was working diligently to ensure that it would be nothing short of a stellar success. Stage crews worked overtime as they secured support beams for the stages..testing the lightning a million times over and getting everyone’s pyrotechnics in order for those who needed them. Running simulations of backdrops for each performer to make sure no one suffered from a glitch when the time finally came. Some of the biggest names in the industry would be setting foot on that very stage come three days from now. The entire weekend was one that would undoubtedly be for the books; for musical talents and attendees alike. Meanwhile, the executives had come out of their glass paned offices to observe the scene for themselves. Among the fray was none other than Erwin Smith, who had been working directly with everyone to relay orders and needs as well. He was the one heading this project so it was only natural for him to come show his face. Besides, with his reliant leadership style, everyone could rest assured that if any last minute changes or major pieces needed to be handled, he was the man to do so. At that very moment, he was seated in the front row as the lights dimmed on the overhead structure. Below them was quite possibly not only one of, but two of the festival’s most anticipated acts..Atelier Kiss and Pole Assassins! An unlikely yet dynamic pairing. The two groups had come together one time prior when the band was on their last tour. The dancing quintet had just gotten their start when lead man, Jean Kirschtein himself asked for the ladies to join them for their hometown reunion. Rivaling the sounds of Deftones and Avenged Sevenfold, the infamous group put a unique spin on rock music and changed the genre as everyone knew it. Jean, a native of Louisiana..had always harbored an affinity for blues, jazz, country and soul music. But to his core, he was a metal head. Growing up on the sounds of Metallica, Black Sabbath and Def Leppard, he wanted to combine all sides of the musical spectrum. He didn’t want to limit himself or his bandmates to one particular style. He fought to break stereotypes and bring an innovative style of rock and roll to the scene. He also had the privilege of receiving the tutelage of Vivian James and needless to say, he absorbed plenty from the Neo Soul Siren herself. His ultimate creation was, in his own words.. ‘The result of Kiss, Tina Turner and Waylon Jennings having an illegitimate love child.’ An interesting combination to put it lightly! But that insane mix worked for Atelier Kiss and years later, they’re regarded as one of the highest selling bands of the 21st century..no small feat by any stretch of the imagination. That deep, silky yet soulful vibrato of his could be recognized from earshot anywhere and Erwin had just gotten an exclusive concert just for his listening pleasure only as the groups had just wrapped up practice for their upcoming set.
“You guys..pardon my language..but that was fucking amazing.” The brash comment sending everyone on the stage into light hearted hysterics, even laughing. It was rare to even see the director ever crack a smile or break character but for anyone who was familiar with the former lead guitarist of Atelier Kiss’ predecessor, Maria’s Way..led by none other than the president and director themselves..they’d know that this was far tame for Mr. Smith. To him, he felt right at home watching the beautiful ladies twirl the pole as the rockstar crooned sultry and lewd lyrics into the mic. He had done the exact same many years prior..needless to say, he was proud of you all! Seeing as how they’d be opening the show, you guys had to make one hell of a first impression or the entire show would fall to shit. But that wasn’t even a possibility. The leaders of both groups were not only hard workers, but overachievers as well. Both Jean and (Y/N) had something serious to prove.
“Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like this and I cannot wait for you all to perform. Well done. Especially you ladies..being able to construct a routine of this caliber on such short notice? I’m blown away.” A statement that rang true..as it was only after your meeting with Mikasa two days ago, did he call you up and ask about performing with Atelier Kiss. Naturally, you accepted with bells on! Nevermind the fact that you’d also be on stage with a segment of your own, hosting a little contest alongside Prince Cee and Armin to see which lucky audience member could not only sway them but outdance you girls for their chance to win one thousand dollars cash right there. You’d be pulling double duty and exhausting yourselves in the process but all the more exposure, the better. And you were certain that your girls were up to the task!
“Ya’ hear that, girls? Sounds like we got the boss man’s stamp of approval. I’d say we’re good to call it a night.” Something that you all could get behind and appreciate, seeing as how darkness had already set fall over the sky. As excited as you all were, rest was going to be crucial in making a great performance happen. Slowly but surely, the stage hands and band members alike all helped you down from your poles and to your feet. All of them would thank your group and the sentiments were mirrored. But before you all could depart for home, Jean was hoping for an audience with you.
“Aye..(Y/N). Do you mind if we talk for a minute?
It was certainly an odd request..you’d consider yourself rather good friends with the lead singer but it wasn’t often that you had the chance to speak in private and quite honestly, there was no need! But by the indication of his tone, you could tell it may have been serious.
“Of course!” you’d wave to your girls and alert them that you’d catch up with them shortly. Meanwhile, you and Jean would venture off to the side of the stage to converse. He’d grasp your hand and help you down to the edge before handing you a water bottle. He was always just as chivalrous as he was kind..admirable qualities in a man and a friend in general. Graciously accepting, you’d thank him for the kind gestures before inquiring about his request.
“So what did you wanna talk about? Something wrong with the routine?” peering down at the ground, he’d be quick to dismiss that notion. This matter was a bit more personal and he truthfully couldn’t be sure of how you’d take it. “Nah, nothing like that..before I start running my mouth though. Are you and EJ..seeing each other?” Instantaneously, the question both caught you off guard and invoked a very physical reaction in you. You were so confused as to why he’d spring such a question up on you. It wasn’t as if either of you had made this little situationship you were involved in blatantly obvious but anyone with two functioning eyes could see that there was something going on between the two of you. Make no mistake, it wasn’t any more of his business as it was some random blog on the internet but you also didn’t strike Jean as the nosy type. He didn’t meddle in others’ affairs unless it pertained to his own and now that you were thinking about it, you could see why he harbored a vested interest of sorts…
“I mean..we talk from time to time. Nothing too serious..” but alas, he had his answer the moment you clutched that bottle as if you were trying to squeeze the life out of it and the way your eyes lit up at the sheer mention of his name. “Ahh, you don’t have to play coy with me. We’re friends..besides, it’s none of my business. But there was something I wanted to bring to your attention..” swallowing another gulp of his beverage, Jean would cease his light chuckle and return to a far more serious gaze than before. One that worried you a bit..what exactly was on his mind and how did it involve you? Granted, his fiancee had made him privy to their little spat a couple weeks back and how they were no longer on speaking terms. But it was just as Mikasa had said, their quarrel was in no way a reflection of how you should proceed with talking to him! Even so, you couldn’t help but to be intrigued by the blonde’s words. You’d rather someone tell you than to be in the dark about something important later on down the line.
“..I won’t sit here and pretend that he and I are best friends or anything. Never have been..hell, we’ve been at each other's throats since I’ve known him. Point is, I just want you to be careful. I know it’s not my place or anything..but I saw you guys together on the boat a couple weeks ago. And even though I can say for certainty that he’s not some womanizing sleazebag..dude’s selfish as hell. I mean, he never answers his phone, not even in emergencies. He doesn’t show up for meetings even when other people’s jobs are on the line..he’s just the worst!” By Jean’s frustrated rant, you can tell that Eren had done a thing or two to crawl underneath his skin. Even so, you couldn’t help but to laugh! Just as you had explained to your girls, you’d tell him, Mikasa and everyone else the exact same:
“ I appreciate the concern, Jean. But he and I are just friends, that’s all…no need to worry. I promise.”
You honestly found the sentiment sweet. That everyone was concerned about you and your wellbeing. Jean himself was overly cautious about the people in his life and rightfully so. This industry was a beast and a half and it would devour you whole if you allowed it. The last thing anyone wanted was for you to get hurt by somebody you seemingly held in high regard. Scoffing, the blonde would shake his head once more and cackle. He didn’t want you becoming angry with him over insinuations or baseless accusations. Truth be told, you and Eren didn’t know much about one another outside of the physical aspect but as it stood since your last hookup, he was hoping to change that. He was making a valiant and active effort to be more than just friends with benefits. That much was apparent by his consistent communication and the few flower arrangements he had sent to your apartment; a sweet little surprise after a long day of practice and work. You were appreciative of everyone’s concern but this was one matter you’d have to see to the end for yourself. Whether it played out in your favor or not.
“I figured you’d say as much. In all seriousness, you’ve become like family here at AMG. All of you have and we look out for one another. Everyone has seen how hard you work and we’d just hate for that to become jeopardized in any way. You just make sure that dummy doesn’t do anything to hurt you. If he does, you know who to call.” his offer sending you into a fit of giggles once more. But you had no doubt that you were in good hands. For the time being, you’d just play it cool and roll with the punches. “You know I appreciate you, boo. Thank you for looking out for me.” Swinging your arm around, you’d coil Jean’s neck and embrace him in a tight hug. You were extremely grateful for the people in your life right now and you knew that things were only about to become even better. Your angels were definitely looking out for you. The two of you would begin to stand up, reaching his hand out to assist you once more. It was amid your banter about the upcoming show that your phone began to ring and you’d prepare to part ways.
“...Hey, make sure to get some rest..all of you! You’re sure as hell gonna need it.”
“Aye, you ain’t gotta tell me twice! I’m headed home straight after this. And tell that pretty lady of yours I said hey!..”
But upon exchanging those pleasantries and goodbyes, your spoken plans were sure to become derailed and by the aforementioned topic nonetheless..you’d peer down at your phone screen to be suddenly greeted with none other than the contact name ‘EJ’. You didn’t want to seem extremely desperate for his attention or anything but you had been itching to hear from him. As it had been a day or two since your last phone call. He’d text you every morning and maintain consistent contact throughout the day..which you could appreciate because Jean was right about one thing: EJ moved on his time and his alone so he didn’t owe you a single thing and as he had revealed to you, he was in the process of cultivating his new album so you imagined that the Facetimes and texts would become scarce as the deadline drew near. As well as the fast approaching PalmFest. However, there was another reason he was reaching out. After the second or third ring, you’d swipe the arrow left and answer him.
“Hey EJ..”
“Hey gorgeous..how are you?”
The name sends immediate pangs to the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but to amass butterflies when you so much as heard his name so naturally, the sweet gestures made it even worse.
“I’m doing well, thanks..and I hope you are too.”
“I’m having a wonderful day now that I’ve gotten the chance to hear from you.”
“You know, you really do know how to make a girl feel special.”
“What can I say? A smart man recognizes a good thing when he sees it..I’d be crazy to mess that up, now wouldn’t I?”
Only a minute into your conversation, (Y/N) found yourself fawning over his buttery smooth words and that silky voice. Regardless, there was a reason he was calling you so late in the day and you had to know why.
“Listen, I don’t wanna take up too much of your time or anything and forgive me if I’m interruptin’ or anything. I saw your Instagram, I know you’ve been out here working hard..you know I never wanna take you away from your money..but if it was possible, I was hoping I could see you tonight. Maybe we could get together and finally have that date we were talking about..” Befuddled in your tracks, you had to take a moment to respond. Maybe it was the bare minimum and you weren’t exactly used to being courted in such a manner, but you appreciated his words. He valued your time just the same as his own..he didn’t see your profession as something lesser and certainly didn’t think you the type to be sitting around, awaiting his call. Because of this, you were thrilled to see him again and to finally have that quality time you both desired. Granted, the sex was downright impeccable between the two of you but it was obvious that you each were craving far more than physical intimacy..at the moment, it was only five thirty so you’d have ample enough time to make it back home and get yourself together. After all, it was your first official date and you wanted to be dressed accordingly! And with this festival and other projects looming over your heads, this was the perfect time to sneak in some personal breathing room..so without a moment more of hesitation..
“..I’d love that, thank you, Eren. I’m just now leaving practice but give me a couple hours and you can slide through.”
“Of course, beautiful. I’m so sorry it’s on such short notice but I’m glad you agreed to see me..I missed you.” Something about him was starkly different from the man you saw in interviews or on stage but it was so nice to be around someone so kind. He made you truly feel safe and that you’d made the right decision..
“I missed you too..I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Bye.”
“Bye..”
You just hoped that for your sake..you didn’t meet the side that Jean was seeming to warn you about. In the meantime, you had to make sure you were looking right!..
══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿
three hours later..
On the opposite side of town, you and Eren weren’t the only two lovebirds indulging in the woes of being an item.
“You know, if you keep touching me like that, I’ll never get any work done..”
“That’s the entire point, my love. C’mon, it’s late..you deserve a break.”
at the future Kirschtein residence, Jean was attempting to woo his bride to get some much needed alone time. The couple had both been working nonstop during this time for the upcoming performance, their individual careers and of course, the wedding that was said to be ‘one for the books’. As excited as they were for all the new things happening in their life, rest was equally as important and as it stood, it was definitely a rarity. But it wasn’t the only thing that had been lacking..
“You just want some ass, admit it.”
“Okay, I just want some ass. There, I said it.”
the blonde was currently stationed behind his fiancée, who was still typing away at her computer and delegating orders via email at this time of night. For Mikasa, the grind truly never subsided. She would work in her sleep if it were feasible but there was nothing wrong with enjoying yourself every once in a while. Something Jean was hoping to accomplish tonight..in more ways than one. Despite her always stoic attitude, she couldn’t help but to fold and cackle at his advances. He was brutally honest to a fault and she appreciated that. Currently, he was feeling up her sides…marking up her neck with a trail of kisses and whispering all the things she wanted to hear. Even she couldn’t resist the charms and temptation of a man like him. It was that very behavior that had bagged her in the first place!..
“Alright, sir! Cut it out..I swear, you’re such a freak. The last time we tried that, you said you couldn’t breathe.”
“Yeah, but I would’ve died the happiest man ever..”
his southern twang peeking through the conversation as he reminisced on their most recent and salacious rendezvous. Nonetheless, he just wanted quality time with his lady. “Fine, give me two more minutes and I’ll be right there.” That was as good of a concession as he was going to get so Jean took the bait and accepted. “Two minutes, woman! Two minutes..” signaling the number with his fingers as he walked out..but even so, she couldn’t help but to chime in with a joke as he departed to the bedroom.
“If that’s how long you’re gonna last, I might as well stay right here—“ “Oh, shut up! Damn brat..”
cackling as he exited the room, Mikasa covered her mouth to attempt to feign her laughter. It was little moments like this that she enjoyed the most out of every aspect of her life. “Love you, babe!” But it was just as she was preparing to call it quits for the night, would she be met with quite the surprise. The inbox and screen were all but empty until a push notification appeared in the corner along with a burner email and a blank subject line. At first, it struck her as odd but suddenly, the dots began to connect for her. After a moment of reluctance, Mikasa would double click the email and open it up. Only to be greeted with nothing more than an audio file. “Okay, this is strange..” but alas, she’d still proceed and once it began playing, there was no doubt in her mind who the sender was..as she allowed it to play, the manager began to tear up, along with a soft chuckle. It was all making sense now..and needless to say, she was backed into a corner.
“You bastard..damn you. You always did get your way, I guess this time is no different.”
══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞
if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾
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kotoku · 1 month
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ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ꜱɪʙʟɪɴɢꜱ
pairings - older sibling! sunday & reader / older sibling! aventurine & reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/not a lot of angst/mainly fluff/sibling dynamics
warnings - none, besides the occasional swearing
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
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↻ Being the head of the Oak Family, he has a lot of responsibilities and is frequently busy attending meetings and managing the Charmony Festival
↻ Despite not having too much free time, he always tries to make room for his younger siblings
↻ If you find yourself needing something, Sunday will always drop what he is doing to help you with whatever it is you need help with ↺ A meeting? He'd excuse himself by saying something family-related requires his immediate attention ↺ Helping guests with their room arrangements? He'd say something urgent had come up and would call over another member of the family to solve the issue
↻ Sunday would be a supportive brother, as seen with Robin, encouraging you to pursue opportunities that would aid you in your career or simply being happy that you are happy with whatever you are doing (as long as it isn’t something questionable, otherwise he’d be concerned and a little stressed) ↺ Something I imagine that could happen if you’re doing a particularly dangerous job (and he hasn’t heard from you) is that he’d pace around in his office, stroking or picking at his wings out of stress ↺ You or Robin would walk in to see feathers scattered around and have to scold him for mistreating his wings, helping him with taking care of his disheveled wings
↻ Speaking of wings, if you have a pair of your own, he’d love to help you take care of them ↺ You know those bird videos where they are helping preen the other’s feathers? He would be exactly like that
↻ Considering Sunday is your older brother, he would be a bit overprotective of you ↻ You would be able to tell just by observing his wings and how they’re puffed up, a smile could be on his face but his wings would try to unconsciously intimidate the person who is making you uncomfortable
↻ If you introduce your older brother to a significant other..he’d be a bit wary at first, slightly interrogating them to observe their actions before coming to a final judgment ↺ Again, his wings would be a dead giveaway to his approval if he’s relaxed and asks you to invite them over to dinner with him and Robin ↺ Otherwise, he’d be tense and would confide in you later about his own thoughts but being respectful of your own opinion (...However, he would try nudging you into a direction if they’re truly not a good person)
↻ As children, if you approached him with something you did that you were proud of (whether it was an artwork or trophy), he’d be swelling with pride and happiness
↺ You would see it being displayed in his office or room later on when you’re older, leading you to nag at him for the embarrassment if other important figures saw them ↺ He would not budge if you asked him to take them down since it makes him smile when he glances at them
-----
“Why do you still have the old drawings I gave you since we were kids!?” Gaping at the messy portrait you made of your siblings, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment when you saw them encased in a nice gold ornate frame.
“Well, I couldn’t just throw them away… It would be quite sad if I threw away something you were so proud of when we were little.” Sunday hummed, arms crossed behind his back while looking up at the artwork. A small pleasant smile graced his face, reminiscing the time you hurried up to him with a slightly crumpled paper in hand.
“But displaying it in your office!? Just how many people came in and saw.. that!?” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you looked down and sighed.
“The value of this artwork is priceless. It is something you cannot replicate the meaning of.” Sunday simply chuckled, coming up behind you and staring back at it. “Looking at it reminds me of how far you’ve come, and to say I am proud of your achievements would be an understatement.”
“You’re so corny, brother.” “I’m glad to know I am fulfilling my duties, dear ____.”
-----
↻ Overall, Sunday is a very caring and doting older brother. ˆˆ
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↻ Aventurine as an older brother came as a surprise to a majority of his peers, if not all (perhaps it’s because of his background or personality)
↻ However, he wouldn’t have met his younger sibling until later due to being separated from his family when he was a kid (I’m trying to use some of his lore that we know so far..but it won’t be entirely accurate, apologies!)
↻ This would lead to him being a very doting older brother once he met you and learned that you were blood siblings ↺ He was skeptical at first… Even if he had faint memories of his siblings he didn’t think he would have the chance to come across one of them
↻ It would take a while for Aventurine to be comfortable around you, not because you aren’t someone he can’t really trust, but because he isn’t used to familial bonds and this was something unexpected
↻ He would feel a bit insecure about himself because the expectations of being a good role model for you are now placed on him
↻ When the two of you were more familiar with each other, he would try spending his free time learning about you and what happened when the two of you were separated ↺ It would then transition to lighter topics, such as what is your favorite food? What places have you traveled to? Do you like your career?
↻ Aventurine would try to be a good older brother for you, wanting to be there to support you throughout the rest of your journeys and missions ↺ Whether you are a nameless on the express, a resident of a distant planet, or a traveling merchant, he’d try to keep in contact with you and share updates on what he has been doing
↻ Eventually, Aventurine would open up about his trauma or past to you, about being taken to the IPC, how he became an executive for the Strategic Investment Department, etc… ↺ Being vulnerable in front of others was difficult for him, but you didn’t mock or distrust him, you were willing to open up and find him so he wanted to do the same
↻ After all, his work could be quite lonesome for even someone as eccentric as him so this was a nice change
↻ The time spent getting to know each other would not only bring you two closer together but introduce you to how much of an asshole (affectionate) your older brother could be
↻ Considering that you’re his younger sibling, he’d probably take you around Penacony to gamble or see popular events ↺ When the two of you are playing any game, he’d use his 'older sibling' card to go first which irks you ↺ When he ends up winning the game, you affectionately start slapping/arguing with him, drawing attention to the both of you
↻ Because Aventurine often gains a lot of money from unfortunate players who gamble with him, he’d spend it on stuff that reminds him of you or things that you wanted ↺ You would be shocked and scold him since some of the stuff he bought you was a pretty hefty price, but he just waves you off
↻ Aventurine would tease you a lot, resulting in many (non-serious) arguments which always amused curious bystanders (standard sibling relationship) ↺ The majority of the time these arguments consisted of random topics that popped out of nowhere, leading to a debate
↻ If someone were to taunt and speak lowly of you, especially if it’s because of you being a Sigonian, he’d be incredibly defensive and say things that would have them reevaluating their own values and sense of self (attacking their self-esteem lol)
↻ Aventurine would also treat you to different restaurants, containing different atmospheres and settings but he’d try to stick to what made you feel most comfortable
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“Have you ever been here before, Aventurine?” You asked, looking around the cozy restaurant inquisitively. The lights were a soft yellow and the booths had a red velvety cushioning to it, giving the place a welcoming feeling. You wondered where he had heard of this place…
“Well, no not really. I’ve only passed by this place a couple of times while on my way to the casino.” Aventurine spoke, folding the menu and placing it at the end of the table. “..Do you like it?”
“I do! It has a nice atmosphere and the food looks good.” You hummed, skimming through the menu and setting it down once you’ve decided what to order. “Thank you for taking me here, brother.”
Aventurine hummed, twirling his fork between his fingers. A small smile ghosted his face.
“Don’t mention it, ____.”
“... By the way, you’re paying right, Aventurine..?” “Hmmm, I think I left my wallet at home.” “Aventurine!”
-----
↻ He’s an older brother who’s trying his best to be there for you ˆˆ
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
note - hope you guys enjoyed reading (˘◡˘) ! it's been a bit since i wrote something so hopefully this isn't too bad lol.
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klbwriting · 1 month
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Finally Home - Jason Todd Blurbs
Meeting the Family/Going to a Gala
Fandom: Red Hood
Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Jason is slowly introducing you to the family but Bruce invites you to an art exhibit to meet them all at once
Notes: took the weekend off, felt like I was forcing myself to write too much and needed a little break, I'm hopefully going to get some more writing done today to make up for it!
Jason had been trying so hard to slowly introduce you to his family. There were so many people and all of them were what Jason would call ‘way too involved’ in his life, mostly because he tried so hard to keep them out of his life. He had started with Barbara because he thought you would like her the most. You were both into technology nerd shit and he knew it would drive Dick nuts if Barbara got to meet you first. Then he’d moved to Tim, one to annoy Dick again, and two because again, tech nerd shit. Finally, he had introduced you to Dick who just happened to have invited Bruce over for dinner the same night Jason was bringing you. Great, if Jason wasn’t so sure you were going to be his last partner, he would have sworn he was never introducing anyone to Dick again, but too late now.
“You must come to the art exhibit I am hosting at the manor,” Bruce had said, making Jason nearly choke on his dinner. You smiled politely and agreed, throwing a reassuring smile to Jason. He swallowed and forced a grimace. Bruce had gotten your information to send the invitation and when Jason dropped you off you bit your lip, clearly bothered by something.
“What?” he asked as he walked you to your door. You looked down, looking a little hurt. “What’s wrong?” Had Dick or Bruce said something? If he found out who hurt you he was putting a bullet in them.
“Well, I just, don’t know why you don’t want me to meet your family?” you said. He realized then that he had hurt you. O great, self-flagellation it was then.
“What do you mean? I am introducing you,” he said, trying desperately not to have to say what he was really thinking. He felt so guilty for feeling this way. But you were so different from the others, so not what they would expect from him. It was almost comical someone like you being with him.
“Are you ashamed of me? Embarrassed? Am I not good enough for them?” you asked. Your eyes were so sad, and you sounded so incredibly hurt, near tears even. Jason gently took your face in his hands, making sure you looked right at him. You were so different, so incredibly out of his league.
“No, no no no no, God you’re too good for them. They don’t deserve you and neither do I,” he said. “I honestly was afraid you would meet them and realize what a damned loser I was and want to run the other direction.” You stared at him.
“For being so incredibly smart and reading so many books, you Jason Todd, are an idiot,” you said, leaning up to kiss him deeply. He kissed you back, still holding your face gently, the warmth of your skin keeping his heart beating. He swore without you he would go back to being dead. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled back and he couldn’t fight the grin on his face.
“I love you too,” he said. “So, you really want to go to that Wayne art festival thing? You’ll have to dress fancy and I’ll have to wear a suit.” You looked him over slowly and raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t wait to see it.”
Jason knocked on your door, dressed in a fine blue suit, hoping that it was the right shade to match your outfit. You had said sapphire so he that’s what he told Bruce when asked for the color for the tailor, and that’s what color he hoped he was wearing. He heard a shuffle on the other side of the door before it opened and he saw you. The most amazing and most gorgeous person he had ever known. Your outfit was sapphire as well, bringing out your eyes, and Jason felt his jaw go slack for a moment. Then your laugh brought him back.
“I guess you like the look?” you asked. He nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and headed to the party.
The entire evening Jason couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You looked so natural and confident, even Damian seemed to like you and he was a demon incarnate. You were stunning in every sense of the word and Jason had no idea how he got so lucky that someone like him, so broken and damaged, had managed to find you, let alone keep you. When he had a moment to leave the boring conversation he was in with the Kane’s he walked over, sliding an arm around your waist.
“May I steal my partner for a few moments?” he asked Stephanie and Cass. Both of them shook their heads.
“No, they’re ours now, we like them” Cass said. Jason shrugged; well guess he was making a scene then. He lifted you up bridal style and carried you towards the gardens, setting you down outside, feeling the eyes from the main room still watching. You had been too shocked to react at first but now you laughed at his antics.
“That was rude Jason!” you said but couldn’t stifle your laughter. He set you down, keeping you close.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, nodding back towards the party where people were back to mingling again. Only Bruce seemed to be watching closely, Jason could feel his eyes on him.
“Well, I don’t understand the art…” you said. Jason let out a grunt.
“No one understands the art and you know that’s not what I was asking about,” he said. You smiled a little.
“I love them, I love all of them, not as much as you, but they are great,” you said. Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He knew that they all adored you, how could they not, but you loving them was just as important. He could say all he wanted that he wasn’t a ‘real’ member of the family, that when he died that connection died, but he knew he was lying. They were his family and now you were too.
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crimsonred-hi · 2 months
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Controversial Age Gap - Headcanons
Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne
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• He would be sooo secretive about it in fear of judgement.
• let’s be honest, most of his fans wouldn’t take kindly to him having a conservatively young lass, until they meet her.
• Someone would do an interview of her, and she just acts like she’s a pensioner when she’s actually a uni student.
• If Andrew was gonna date anyone that young she would have to be an old soul. Like already mentally in a nursing home. She would be like super smart and really mature, like he wants a girl he can talk to about literature and poetry, and the fact she’s really young doesn’t mean that much when she completes him.
• Even his friends and band would be find with her, because she acts about 50. She’s always in the corner talking politics with the oldest guy in the pub, because she likes making grown men cry, because she can.
• The Fans would be shocked, because someone would get a video of him getting a quick good luck kiss before he goes on stage, or someone would get a video of them at a festival while she’s fixing his hair for him.
—> Side Rant! Talking about hair! His hair is so healthy now he has her! Like she forces him to sit his arse down once a week so she can deep clean and condition his hair. He’s getting princess treatment.
• I can imagine her running her uni essays through him before they go to her professors, and every time he’s so shocked at how smart she is. Like, he wasn’t this smart, ‘are the younger generation?’ just better he would ask himself.
• We all know he listens to everything, he’s very eclectic. He would love teaching you the blues, he also doesn’t let you play your music, only his. And if you learn his favourite songs and sing them in the car with him, he might cry.
• He’s getting you in any show you want: ya wanna to see Noah Kahan, your going: ya wanna see Lana Del Ray, your going: ya wanna see Taylor Swift, your going. Etc, etc. He’ll get you there, even if he doesn’t like the music that artist makes, he’ll bring his ear plugs and happily watch you enjoy it.
• He would be so careful about talking about you, but it’s a struggle because he’s so proud of you.
• He just thinks you’re incredible. And he wants everyone to know about it, but he’s scared people will judge him for dating someone so much younger than him.
• That jacket in the photo, I bet you think it looks good on him. He thinks it looks better on you. He thinks everything looks better on you; that green jumper he wears all the time, he thinks it looks better when you wear it.
• He loves when your at his concerts, he adores watching you sing and dance along. While everyone thinks he’s winking at them, he’s actually winking at you.
• He loves it when you lay on his chest, you’re so much smaller than him, and watching you distress with the sound of his heart is everything to him.
• She will just spout TikTok and gen z nonsense at him, she once called him ‘submissive and breed-able’ and the look of fear on his face when he turned around to look at her.
—> “what did you just call me…?” He asks his voice cracking with genuine fear, and she just laughs in his face. She just kisses his cheek and runs of giggling.
• He’s probably the first man she’s been with that has a full beard, so she kinda has a little obsession with it. All the other lads she’s dated were her own age and couldn’t grow there pwn full beards, while Andrew is looking sexy as fuck with his beard.
—> He loves when she scratches his beard, because of her obsession with his beard, he practically purrs when she scratches his beard.
—> Also his chest hair, he very rarely goes shirtless but when he does her hands are always desperately trying to get into his chest hair.
• He also gives her beard burn on her thighs and-
• I really like that photo of Andrew, he looks like a god, just me or is he the perfect Poseidon or Hades or Orpheus. Or is he just drop dead gorgeous.
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matan4il · 2 days
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Daily update post:
Since this morning, Hezbollah has been firing rockets at Israel's northern towns. There is at least one man dead, identified as 25 years old Zahara Bashar, an Israeli Druze, and 2 people injured as a result of this on going attack.
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This is a reaction by Iran-funded Hezbollah to a strike by Israel yesterday on a different terrorist organization, al-Jama’a al-Islamiyya (the Islamic Assembley, an ally of al-Qaeda), and following even more Israeli military activity in Lebanon, meant to stop a senior member of Fatah (the ruling party of the Palestinian Authority) from smuggling Iranian-funded standard explosives and additional weapons into Israel for terrorist attacks. As one TV military reporter I was listening to yesterday explained, the difference between improvised explosives and standard ones is in how lethal they are, for example when a small amount is attached to the side of a vehicle, the difference is whether one person gets killed or ten.
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I've written about Israel still waiting for definitive proof that Marwan Issa, Hamas' #3 in Gaza, has been killed in a military strike. Yesterday, we got an official confirmation of that. This means that out of the 4 Hamas leaders that are on the top of Israel's list, two are gone. We're still left with Yahya Sinwar (#1) and Mohammed Deif (#2). Most Israelis tend to think that if Israel manages to kill Sinwar, Hamas will likely surrender, and the war would be over.
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As Israel's military operation in the Shifa hospital continues, here is a really important batch of testimonies from captured terrorists, about how, once the IDF left this place, they returned to it, exploited it assuming they'd be safe there, and how they were not alone, with defined areas for the Hamas terrorists, and others meant for the Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) terrorists, cynically using spots such as the maternity ward.
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A military reporter published the fact that Israel has refused permission for Turkey and Qatar to participate in air drops of humanitarian aid into Gaza. The reporter frames it as a political decision, but consider what it means that Qatar and Turkey are both politically hostile countries - that there is no way for Israel to verify they would not try to air drop military aid to Hamas. At the same time, I wanna highlight what this info also means, and hasn't been talked about... It means that every time you hear about yet another country air dropping aid into Gaza, that's done with Israel's permission. And there are way more countries permitted to do this than refused. This is one of many things that should make it clear that Israel is NOT targeting regular Gazans, and is making every possible effort to make sure they are getting humanitarian aid, while trying to minimize how much this aids Hamas (and in that sense, prolongs the war).
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These are brothers Neria and Daniel Sharabi.
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On Oct 7, they were at the Nova music festival. Not only did they survive Hamas' massacre, they also helped to save others. Since then, they've started a fund to help the survivors, and in order to raise money, they've been traveling abroad, telling their story, mostly to Jewish communities. A couple of days ago, they were traveling to Manchester, in the UK, when they were asked at the airport upon arrival what their religion was. They recount that after disclosing they were Jews and what they were there to do, they encountered hostile reactions, including being told (according to a TV interview I heard with them), "We don't like what you're here to do," and "We have to make sure that you are not going to do here what you are doing in Gaza." They were detained for a couple of hours, before being allowed in. The brothers said they're convinced this was motivated by antisemitism based on being questioned about their religion. The incident is said to be investigated.
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This is 40 years old Amit Soussana.
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She was kidnppaed to Gaza from her home in kibbutz Kfar Azza, and among the hostages released in late November. A lot of Israelis remember her as the hostage who was captured on film trying to fight off the men taking her, with no less than 7 of them (yes, Israelis have counted) involved in her abduction:
We've had private testimonies from Israelis about having been raped, we've had public testimonies from Israeli who have seen the physical evidence of the Hamas rapes, we've had public testimonies of Israelis who have witnessed those rapes, and we've had public testimonies of hostages, who've heard from their fellow captives about the sexual abuse the latter have gone through. All that wasn't enough for some people, who continued to deny Hamas' sexual violence. Now, Amit Soussana is the first Israeli to come forward and publicly talk about the sexual assault she had suffered at the hands of Hamas. Her testimony has been published in the New York Times, and for anyone without a subscription, other publications have quoted parts of it, like Times of Israel. A part of me really hates that Amit might have felt compelled to speak because of the doubt cast at raped Jews. Another part thinks that for the second time, she is showing outstanding bravery. And yet another finds it hard to believe that this will make a difference. Those who are dead set on not believing Jews, essentially calling us all liars, will do the same to her, and when they do, I hope she won't have to witness that firsthand. But in a sense, if their doubt is indeed the reason why she felt she had to speak up publicly, then it's clear that there's already been damage done to the victims of Hamas' sexual violence.
This is 35 years old Uriel Baruch with his son.
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Uriel was married, and a father of two. He loved techno music, and on Oct 7 was attending the Nova music festival along with a friend, Michael Yoav, who was murdered there (his body was found shot in the car in which the two were trying to escape). Uriel was kidnapped. Yesterday, the army was able to confirm to the family that Hamas had murdered him while in captivity, and is still holding Uriel's body hostage. The number of Israeli hostages in Gaza is 134, and the official confirmations of death indicate that no more than 98 are still alive, though some count Hamas claims as well, in which case no more than 96 are. May Uriel's memory be a blessing.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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eggtartz · 1 year
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Hello Alin! I hope you're fine! Can I request TR boys (Mikey, Draken, Izana, Haitani brothers and Shuji) as s/o ends up hurt and pass out and boys think s/o's dead and go into despair and s/o only wake up in the hospital but the boys are not there because they are taking their anger/sadness out on something (or someone pfff) and they left someone with s/o to call them if something happened and... Happened? Angst to fluff pls
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a/n : okay let's *cracks fingers* do this
masterlist
izana kukorawa
he couldn't blame you couldn't he? as he held your hand in the ambulance, he thought could've he avoided this? as you were admitted into the emergency unit, he stood there alone with his thoughts again and he grew frustrated. he also needed medical help as he fought with mikey prior the accident but he was a fool for not noticing kisaki's plans. the bullet was meant for him, not you and now you were the one paying the price. izana couldn't be more sorrow. he left the hospital to calm down his emotions that were growing. plus he doesn't want to face anyone when they're gonna announce you.. dead. however, the next morning you finally woke up with a sore shoulder but you survived. your eyes were wild, searching for izana and instantly asked the nurse assistance to reach the public phone. back at tenjiku's hideout, izana kept thrashing the place and tearing everything down. he throws everything he could reach and it has been hours since he started it. kakucho and the others couldn't stop him, fearing the tenjiku's strongest would grow angrier. the phone rang and izana picked it up with a huff. "what?!" "izana? are you okay? where are you?" the moment he recognized your voice, strained but that voice he missed so much he dropped everything and ran to the hospital. arriving at the hospital he hugged you when he saw you at the vending machine. he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck and held your face. he aggressively kissed you all while crying again. "you made it! you made it love!" "im sorry i made you worried" "it's alright love, most important you're here with me. i don't care about anything else. gosh i love you so much" he said while hugging you tightly again, not letting go.
manjiro sano
he struggled to keep his tears at bay, the night at the festival was hectic as they were ambushed by valhalla. kenchin got stabbed with other division members got injured as well. his loved ones were at the verge of death and he couldn't do anything about it, which made him feel helpless. when nurse and doctors announced kenchin was going to make it but yours hasn't, he grew restless. you had lost significant blood due to being beaten up by valhalla members. just because the invincible mikey's your boyfriend. mikey leaned towards a wall, sliding down as the tears he kept at bay now were streaming down nonstop. he grew sad but soon sad became anger. he stood up and punched the wall, his knuckles now bloody. he wasn't satisfied so he went outside and punched the road light pole while crying again. he kicked everything which was on his sight, frustrated that you might not survive this accident. meanwhile back at the hospital, your doctor that was examining you finally came out and told the members there that you need tons of rest however you demanded to see manjiro. the others were frantically looking for mikey, confused as where he went. as takemichi went outside, he saw mikey punching the wall at the parking lot and screamed his name "mikey kun! y/n chan wants to see you!" mikey thinks that was the fastest he ran in a long time and when he barged into your room, you were extending your arms to hug him. he hugs you while silently hiccuping. "were.. you crying.. manjiro?" you asked slowly as your energy was drained. mikey nodded and looked at you with puffy eyes, him feeling guilty as ever. "would you make it y/n?" you smiled a bit "of course i would manjiro, anything for you" mikey hugged you again, this time his tears were heard by his members outside the room.
ken ryuguji
draken was on rampage. one of his victims of the rampage was probably takeomi and takemichi the two accepted the blows he gave. "draken stop! this was my fault" senju tried stopping his punches. draken shrugged her, keeping the punches now even harder. he was angry, no, he was furious. it was honestly his fault, he saw the shooter who tried to shoot takemichi and senju however that very moment you accidently took the bullet without you knowing. you collapsed, in front of draken, takemichi and senju. draken felt worthless, he should've at least pulled you to dodge the bullet but no. he was too slow and was too late. he has left the hospital long ago, leaving some brahman members to guard the doors so when the nurse gestured one of them that you survived the lethal bullet they were frantic to find draken. they found him though, him putting takeomi in a chokehold while his feet was on takemichi's face. "y/n's awake!" draken pushed everyone, including the nurse to see your condition and hugged you so tight, you wincing as he accidentally pressed on the wound. "gosh ken, what's with the frown hm?" he looked at you lovingly, when you smiled weakly at him. he couldn't uttered a word, maybe he would say sorry to the two but for now all that matters is you made it, safe and sound.
rindou haitani
rindou should've seen this coming. he was already worried when he sees you not at home but when you didn't answered any of his calls or his messages his anxiety went through the roof. he was panicking looking for any sight of your very presence until he saw you. in front of him. bloody. unconscious. alone in a cold, dark alley. he lifted your limp body after checking your pulse, he didn't sense any. he lifted you either way and walked to the hospital. his eyes were red from crying and sobbing, his mouth kept muttering words of comfort as if you could hear him. "we're almost there baby, stay with me okay?" "please stay with me.. please" a nurse rushed to take your body to the emergency ward and rindou fell to the ground, having no strength in his legs left. he already called his brother to retrieve some footage at the area so he could beat up the person real good that harmed you. he has left the hospital when ran said he found them so he spent a decent time teaching them a lesson, all the memories of you all bloody left to die in the alley made his punches more harder. his ears went deaf as his punches never stopped. until one of his members touched his shoulder that he snapped out from it. the gang was on the floor, drowning in their own blood. "ran said y/n's awake, you go. we'll dump these guys somewhere" rindou washed his hands that had blood on them and went to hospital. there he walked pass ran and went to hug you after the nurse allowed him to. he kept his composure, not wanting to scare you anymore. "don't worry, you're safe here with me. i'll make sure no one touches you again" and he did.
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djarinmuse · 3 months
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Bookends
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Joel Miller x F!Reader (she/her but no descriptors)
Word Count: 4,463
Summary: Joel Miller is more than just the man that stared down the barrel of his gun at you. When a new project in Jackson forces you two to reconcile, feelings unfold.
Happy Holiday's! For the @pedrostories gift exchange. For @pascalispretty who filled my head with ideas when she suggested something with books/stories and a sort of enemies to lovers. This is all fluff with a touch of angst. I hope you enjoy 🖤
A/n: Based off of Pedro's Joel, I took the fact that Joel wanted to be a singer, had a guitar and music festival posters in his house and ran with it. I finished this fic in a fever induced haze, sick in bed. I hope 1:15am Dec 25th isn't too late. No beta, all mistakes are my own. More notes at the end.
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There are plenty of things you miss from the old world, obvious ones and less so, like quiet, simple days at home under a blanket with a book. It was so long ago, you forgot the author's name by your third QZ, but you think it was the last new book you read, before the world ended, called “Forever”. It was about a man seeking vengeance for his fathers death. After crossing the ocean to America he is injured and saved by a shaman and he can't die as long as he doesn't leave Manhattan. You didn't get to finish it because the world fell apart and left you to wander, somehow undying and it feels like forever. Forever since you've seen kindness and patience and safety.
You arrived in Jackson alone, cold and so desperate. You'll never leave, this is your island, it's not perfect, but it's good. You'd live forever if you could stay here, you're just happy to be safe and rediscovering friendship.
“It's a good little space and I think a library is a great idea. We've just been sharing books with no system. If you think you can get something organized I support it.” Maria says while she shows you a little cabin that needs wiring and cleaning and repairs.
“Who can help me?” You flick at a dead wire hanging from the low ceiling,“It needs work.” Glancing out the window, the miller brothers approach.
“Joel says he can do it,” Maria tossed the words out quickly.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” you say watching the brooding man, through dust speckled glass. He's wearing all denim in various shades of blue, even his jacket with a shearling collar, a gift from his brother. Some days they match and it's almost endearing.
The door is shoved open with force by a broad shoulder, as the frame is uneven from rot. The big man's brow is furrowed and his graying hair is a little wild looking from the north winds.
“Ya gotta be fucking kidding me,” he looks around at the space. “This is a joke,” he scratches at his beard.
“Joel, it's a good idea and it's this–” Tommy gestures to the cabin, “unless you want to construct a whole new building.”
Joel crosses his arms tightly over his chest, an eyebrow arched, “And what are you?…the librarian.” He says it like an insult.
You avoid his eye contact because if you look right at him, he might see that you almost hate him and you need his help right now. Joel has been your most awkward friendship in Jackson, and that's because it's propped up with a solid layer of disdain.
“Yeah, I'm the librarian.”
He huffs a laugh and turns his back to you, talking only to Tommy and Maria. Telling them what he'll need to get the space usable and done before the first deep freeze.
You won't ever forget, almost a year ago, collapsed from exhaustion in the wilderness, a man's hands gently finding a pulse asking for your name.
Then another man standing behind him, your vision was foggy, you remember the barrel cold but ready.
“She's not infected, put the gun down Joel.” Tommy's voice echoes in your memory.
“No one needs to know that, winter’s coming, we have enough mouths to feed.” The barrel aimed, his rough voice was icy.
“Christ Joel, drop it!” a woman's sharp voice shouted behind him. “Let me look closer at her.” Her face came into view, her fingers pulled at your worn out, inadequate coat and at your clothes, as she looked for sickness or wounds. Then she held your face, your name fell as a question from her lips and you nodded. “Oh my God. Tommy help me get her on the horse!”
“You know her?” Joel asked, surprised.
Through a strained breath, as she and Tommy hoisted you up “Yes, we were friends, but we got separated a long time ago.” Maria's eyes welled from surprise and happiness.
You avoided Joel and he avoided you for a long time. He is fiercely protective of his family, dangerously so, he makes you uneasy. So, of course it was Maria's idea to put you and him on the same project. She felt the same as you about Joel early on and she says you two just need ‘time’.
Ellie is a pill and yet you really find her humor and attitude a great balm. You especially appreciate her coming around to help you organize while Joel works. You constantly feel like you're in his way.
“Where…did I…” Joel mumbles as he looks for his wire cutters with the red rubber handle.
“Windowsill.” You respond without looking up from the box you're sorting.
“That's not where I left them. If you're going to move my shit around, don't leave it where it'll get stolen.” He doesn't yell, he doesn't need to.
Your tone is flat, “I didn't move them Joel.”
He marches over and snatches them up, stepping over the stack of books you're trying to decide is worth shelving yet, his boots knock it over. You wish you had a TV running or some music, anything to distract.
Through the muffled clatter of heavy paper tumbling he grunts, “Well, they didn't walk over there.”
You just stare at the now pile of books, defeated and tired. Your eyes itch from the dust and mold.
Ellie comes through the door that now swings open easily. Joel has put in a lot of work for little in return and you're grateful, but whatever Maria's vision for you two was, it's certainly not there. That doesn't stop Ellie though.
“Look at you two peas in a pod!” Her cheeks red from the brisk air. The trees outside are nearly bare now.
Joel, possibly more tired than you, “Help her would ya.” He gestures towards your mess.
It's the first time he's volunteered the kid to help you rather than barking at her to help him first. You'll admit you enjoy watching her learn. You also admit you liked seeing Joel struggle to be patient with her. He is patient with her and his eyes soften whenever she knows the answer to whatever random question he throws at her. He was a good father, so you learned from Tommy, but he's never mentioned Sarah to you.
The sun is at an angle, it's no longer coming through the windows and you're ready to turn on your lantern. You and Ellie are flipping through a box, she's telling you about the argument she got in at the dining hall. Then the room illuminates, a warm glow, a gentle amber of simple incandescent bulbs from sconces on the walls.
“Let there be light.” Joel's voice comes from the small utility closet. If you weren't mistaken, he sounds happy. Then the lights flicker and go out. “Fuck!” Joel shouts and it sounds painful. It's followed by a quieter, “Shit.”
Pushing yourself up off the cold stone floor you find him shaking his hand, his gloves shoved in his back denim pocket. You're apprehensive, “Wh–what happened? You okay?”
“Fine.” He glances up at you with those intense eyes of his. You're in shadow, pulling your cardigan sweater tight around you, half hidden by the wall. In that moment, he finally sees what he's been ignoring. What Tommy has told him about.
He sees that you're nervous, that you don't approach out of desire but out of obligation. That you…are afraid of him. It's never bothered him and in fact he's spent years keeping people afraid of him. Why now? Why in this moment does he realize he resents his hard exterior?
He's watched you with Ellie and he's watched you with all the rest of his family. You're someone that maybe at one time he would have struck up a conversation with. A sensation comes over him, warm ears and a flutter in his chest and he'd be remiss to say it's anything but foolishness.
He shouts past you to Ellie, “Hey kid, go home and bring me the first aid kit, I don't have one here.”
“What the fuck Joel! Why I gotta…!”
His voice lowers, stern, “Just do it please, I can finish this up tonight if you help.” He raises his eyebrows at her and you watch the exchange.
“Fiiiine.” She sulks off into the evening glow, it's about a half mile round trip.
He's fidgeting with a square cloth around his thumb.
You speak first, your voice almost catching, “What did you do?”
“Damn flash made me jump-” he smirks, embarrassed “ended up snipping my thumb. I'm technically not licensed for electrical work.”
A smile teases your lips as he almost made you laugh. No one is licensed these days. You're sincere and you approach to get a look at how bad it is, “Will you need stitches?” Without thinking you pull his hand to you and he allows it. You unwrap the cloth and find an uneven slice at the top of his thumb, not too deep. His hand is large and rough, the callouses stained with dirt, despite the cabin's lack of heat, he is warm.
“I've got some glue in my kit here,” he shrugs.
The perplexion apparent on your face, Joel responds. “I sent Ellie away because–” he pulls his hand away from you slowly and you notice the warmth on your palm disappearing the moment he does. “I want to say…I know you don't have any reason to like me and I…I didn't want to be here.”
“Jesus Joel what's your point?” your eyes roll.
“I'm just an old bastard who…I don't know how to be…” Joel's eyes are going everywhere but to your face and if he wasn't in a poorly illuminated closet you might notice them reddening.
“You've forgotten how to be a decent person? Or just a person?” you scoff.
“I suppose. Yes. Something like that.”
“Is this an apology for trying to shoot me when you found me?”
Joel's eyes widen as he swipes his hand over his mouth and through his hair as he mutters, “Fuck. You…”
Misinterpreting the poorly structured cut off of Joel’s epiphany,”Seriously!? Fuck you.”
He puts his hand up, “No…No, I was sayin’...” He swallows. “I didn't know you were lucid enough to remember that. Explains a lot, actually.”
“Well I did and it told me most of what I needed to know…” you lean your shoulder into the doorframe of the closet, your sweater snagging on the dry wood of the frame. The small lantern hung on the wall behind Joel illuminates his strong profile. He's handsome, you give him that. “You care, and it's your strength and your weakness Joel.”
“I'm gonna get these lights working for you…okay?”
You nod, “Thank you.”
His voice softens and you hear a tone you've either ignored or never noticed when he says it, “You're welcome.” He meant ít.
Some time later the cabin lights up again. It's cozy, and picturing all the shelves yet to be installed, each wall of the simple space lined in books.
Joel is locking up his tools. “Well, Ellie never came back.”
“I'm not surprised.” Your marking spots on the wall with graphite trying to map out what's in your head.
Joel watches before interjecting, “We could build a bench by the window, make it a reading nook.”
You picture it, “That's a good idea, it's not heated in here though.”
“Well, Tommy and I can look into that. Actually, he was thinking of adding on, maybe making this your house too.”
“Oh? Oh.” You look around. The idea of literally living at the library is something your childhood self would jump at. But in this moment you're suddenly confused by the wave of emotions that come to you. You've been living at Maria and Tommy’s, you thought you weren't imposing. You help with their little one as they're both such active and critical members of the community. Maria always insists she likes having you there.
“I guess I'll head out now, it's dark. You should get home soon too.” Joel nods.
“Yeah, I'm…I'm tired. Need to eat.”
Joel zips up his jacket, clumsily, careful of the cut on his thumb. You know it's nothing for him and from what Ellie has let slip you know pain is something he knows well. He looks at you, “Alright, see you tomorrow?” The cloud that was placed over Joel and you a year ago has dissipated in the amber glow of the little abandoned cabin.
“Yeah, yes. Goodnight.”
He nods, “ ‘night” you watch him walk away. Slower paced, long gait, broad. It's good to have Joel Miller on your side especially when he's not willing to kill you.
The next few days you spend working on the same project. He's building shelves and you're trying to relearn the dewey decimal system.
You take a break to go eat at the hall. Spying Joel, you swallow and go sit by him. He doesn't greet you so much with a smile but more of a nonchalant welcome. A nod of his head.
He's almost finished but has a pot of chicory coffee next to him.
“Oh, I could use some of that.” You move to get a mug.
“Eat, I got it.” He gets up before you.
He's pouring your hot drink, you look by the little basket of few condiments on the table, “Thank you. Would it be too much to ask for some cream to put in it.” you wince a cute grin.
He raises his eyebrows the way he does when Ellie teases.
“It's fine, I'll get it. But thank you for the mug.” you start to rise again but he stops you.
Sarcastically, he puts his palm out, “No ma’am you enjoy your meal, I'll get it.” Joel stands up straight slowly, his back is stiff.
You watch him sure enough, go over to the cooler and retrieve the cream on hand, the tiny pot even tinier in his grasp. Saw dust on his pants, skin matted from dried sweat. He sets it down by you.
You feel warm, you feel, and you have to be mistaken, attraction. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” he goes back to his meal.
You break the moment of silence,”And just…thank you in general. I appreciate all your hard work, I'm very excited. And…I talked to Tommy and Maria about maybe adding on, so I could move out. We're thinking in the Spring.”
“Yeah, okay.” He nods and the light catches his eyes and you see him thinking.
“What?” You want to know his thoughts, now that they matter, since he seems to have some idea that you also matter.
He shrugs and doesn't respond, pursing his lips with another sip of chicory.
“If it's…too much to ask, we can, I'm sure there are other guys who can help. I know, it's a lot to ask. This communal living is…well, it's good, but different.” you watch him stare into the middle distance.
He takes a breath, and almost smiles, “Nah, It's not that.”
“Then what?”
He looks at you from across the table, one seat over of course, he looks at you and then behind you, around, before he draws breath. “You said in the spring and it came so easy to you…thinking about the future.”
Joel Miller's introspection plucks on your heartstrings and you actually hum before you speak anything, “Hmmm.”
“Sorry. I'm not great at small talk.”
“Me neither, so let's not make it small,” you shrug.
Joel folds his arms over his chest, looking at you with a smirk, “Hoo boy.”
“What!? You made it all existential. I was just talking about construction.”
He smiles and the laugh doesn't leave his throat, but it's so welcome. You like his smile lines.
You take a bite of an almost too ripe apple, “So, read any good books lately?”
He shakes his head,”Can't say I have. You?”
You shake your head no, hiding your smile, “Actually. No.” “What do you do when you go home with Ellie in the evening?”
He leans back and threads his fingers behind his head, “If I'm not listening to her stories, or working on the house, I play my guitar, listen to music.”
You almost choke on your coffee. “Listen to music?”
He nods, “yeah, I got a record player, I've been trying to collect vinyl.”
You grin, “And tell me, how is collecting vinyl at the end of the world going?”
“I have a dozen playable, good albums.” He looks satisfied.
“Joel Miller... Okay, I knew you played guitar, but lots of people play guitar, but a musicophile. I wouldn't have guessed.”
“I write my own songs too.”
“Shut up.”
“You sound like Ellie.”
“You write lyrics? I love good lyrics.” your excitement is too obvious.
He nods.
You pull out a piece of paper and graphite from your bag and lay it on the table. “Write down some of your lyrics.”
He says nothing, he drags the paper over the pine table top and very seriously for a solid beat, scribbles down several lines. He slides it back over to you, “Ya done eating I'll drop this off.” He takes your used dishes and walks off and you read the paper.
Time it was, and what a time it was
it was a time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left you
The incredibly poetic, introspective words hit you hard. They're familiar. They're Simon and Garfunkel. “Bookends.” You whisper. Joel is heading out the door as you shout across the dining hall. “These are Paul Simon's lyrics you jag!” He's gone.
The next day you help him install the shelves. There isn't a lot of conversation but there is a lot of close proximity. You hold and he's driving screws in, in the morning he smelled naturally handsome, like the pine he'd been working with.
But by the afternoon, he has his arm stretched as your face is practically stuck in his armpit, you're holding a shelf and he's hand driving in a nail.
“You know what I miss?” Bang bang bang
“What's that?” He responds through gritted perfect teeth. Bang bang
Bang You shift your hand to grasp better, “Good deodorant.” the hammer comes right down on your finger tip. “Ow! Fuck!” You let go of the shelf and it doesn't fall as it was mostly secure.
“Christ woman!” Joel steps back.
“You smashed my finger!”
“Why did you move your hand!?”
You clutch it, wiggling, you whine, “I don't know!”
“Lemme see.”
You breathe deep, it's fine. It's not that bad, you look and hold it out, Joel takes a look. You watch him, “You hammered my finger because I said you smell.”
He drops your hand, and looks at you with mock disdain this time. He squints and then winks. “I don't even think you'll lose the fingernail. Now come on, I heard Ellie was harassing more people for their books so we have to make it worth it.”
The day goes by quickly. Joel asks you questions all about your life post cordyceps and some pre, he listens even when he looks like he's not.
You're trying to convince yourself you're just lonely. But you're not, you have friends and people all around you. At some point when Joel is explaining in too much detail how they'll create the framing to look just like it was originally part of the cabin and how one wouldn't know any difference, you realize you like him. It's not just the physical, sure he's tall and broad, strong and handsome. His voice is quickly becoming a sound that makes you feel safe, which for a long time it didn't.
“I'm boring you, I'm sorry. You got stuff to do.”
You're glazed look still fixed on him, his words not registering.
“Whoa, hey, earth to the bookworm.”
You gasp a little embarrassed and cover your mouth. “I'm so sorry, repeat the last part.”
“Nah. You clearly don't care.” He shakes out his handkerchief and shoves it in his back pocket.
“No! I do. I do.”
“It's alright.” He looks a little sad.
And for the first time in a couple days the silence turns awkward so you decide to make it worse. “No, I like listening to your voice.”
“Are you being mean or serious, sometimes I can't tell.” He's packing up his tools.
“I am not mean!” you stand uselessly, watching him.
“Well. You very deliberately avoided me for almost a year, not to mention just your attitude around me. But…hey, I threatened to kill ya, so, I guess we're even.”
Your arms folded over yourself, “Now I can't tell if you're joking!”
He closes a box a little harder than necessary. “You're ridiculous, if you took that as me calling you mean by the way.”
“Do you know…how hard it is to survive out there, as a woman? I couldn't hear your voice for a long time without thinking…I'm a burden, I'm in some sort of danger.” Your words catch in your throat and you fight back the emotion about to pour from your tear ducts, “I…I, I'm being sensitive…” you wipe your eyes.
With the way Joel moves to you with both hands out, you guess he can't stand to see a woman cry, or you haven't been imagining whatever has been brewing. His palms find the expanse of your shoulders, making you feel small.
“I'm sorry. Have I said that yet? I am sorry. I won't pretend to know what you've been through.” Joel's eyes rake over your face. Your hands reach up, your fingers fold over the canyon of muscles in his arms. “You're not…sensitive. I just…this is hard.”
Your noses almost brushing, warm breath and warmer skin, you're noticing how long his lashes are as his eyes watch your mouth. His hands cup your cheeks as you meet him for a chaste kiss, followed immediately by a deeper, more desperate one, lips tight in their envelopment. It feels right but unexpected. It's odd how familiar and yet unfamiliar you both are to each other. Suddenly everything foreign about him has become pages of a book you have to read. You grab a hold of him, you both tangle into eachothers arms. You don't let go after the kiss ends.
You respond softly, “It doesn't have to be hard.”
“I like you, and I'm sorry that guy out on patrol wanted to kill ya.”
“Bookends, Paul Simon. That was a smooth move.”
“Paul Simon never let me down yet,” he smirks. “Come by tonight. To my place?”
On your walk to Joel's you feel nervous, butterflies and adrenaline have you walking too fast. You get a grip and slow your pace, this could be a mistake, this could just be nothing but physical attraction. You're compiling the list of reasons why you shouldn't have kissed Joel and why you shouldn't be going to his place, you're deep in your head when you hear the gentle thrum of an acoustic guitar. Rounding the corner you see boots propped up and can't make out the song. Then the notes change.
You climb the steps to the covered porch, “So, did you envision yourself as the next Paul Simon or was that just too much positive reinforcement from family and friends?”
He thumps the strings and the notes fall flat, “Actually, I wanted to be Tom Petty.”
“Really? Not Bruce Springsteen? You give off a Boss vibe.” He looks at his hands and goes into the first bars of I'm On Fire. “Okay, now you just might as well propose.”
“How about dinner first.” he sets his guitar down and sits up straight on the bench he made for his porch.
“I already ate. You didn't say dinner would be involved.” you spy a book next to him. “You said you hadn't read anything good."
He picks up the hardcover with no jacket, “Oh this? It was in the box Ellie collected. It's good, actually.”
You sit next to Joel, you're shoulder to shoulder, thighs touching, it's cold and you can feel the air turning, looking out towards the dimly lit street you see some tiny snowflakes in the lamp light. “What is it?”
“It's uh, it's called Forever, 1st edition, 2003. This guy he's in Ireland but his dad gets killed and he's out for vengeance.”
“What!?” You rip the book from his hands.
“Hey don't lose my spot!”
You choke up and it's almost like a wave of grief comes over you. Joel watches it overtake you, pulling you under, and he watches as the collision with the past spits you onto the shore of the present, you thumb the pages and smile as you cry. You sniffle, “Did you get to the twist yet?”
He swipes at a tear with the back of his finger, “I wasn't gonna spoil it…you've read this one?”
“Well, sort of, back in 2003, I got to the part where he turns immortal but I never got to find out if he gets his vengeance or gets to grow old and die. This thing happened and I lost the book.”
He folds his hands over yours holding the book, “Well, you can read it first then, just don't spoil the ending.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.” You gather your bearings.
“You okay?”
Your grip on the book gets stronger, the warmth from Joel has wrapped itself around you and whatever savory meal he had cooked has wafted out the window to you. “I'm good, I think, I was just caught off guard by this.”
“Nostalgia is a bitch.”
You wipe your eyes and the back of your hand ungracefully wipes at your nose as you notice more snowfall, “Now I don't know that song, is that Dylan…Bob, Bobby Dylan.”
Joel laughs lightly.
“Nostalgia is a bitch…think that was on the same album as Blowing in the Wind….probably.” you shrug and he laughs harder.
He squeezes your thigh, “Let's go in, it's getting wet out here.”
“That's a Neil Young song.”
He takes your hand and pulls you up, “Okay, sarcasm aside, you keep listing my heroes and I actually will propose.”
“Dinner first.” you say.
He looks over his shoulder at you, the light from the porch makes the snowflakes sparkle as they fall silently behind you. He pauses before opening the door, looking at you carefully, sweetly. You've written yourself into his songbook and his eyes are a part of your story now.
...
Thanks for reading
Feel free to comment and reblog
Also it's called Forever it's a historical fiction romance, by Pete Hamill and it's one of my favorite books, it came out in 2003.
Tlou banner by @saradika
MY MASTERLIST
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seneon · 1 month
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月光 ݁ ˖ MOONLIGHT ── CHAPTER ONE. THE CRUEL AND LONELY AFTERMATH OF A GREAT WAR BETWEEN NATIONS.
CONTENTS. warnings of dead bodies, slight gore (slicing through the skin), suicide of an enemy party. wc of a thousand.
moonlight series masterlist ₊ 𓂃 chapter two
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𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, night-time, right after the evening where the golden hour turns into dusk. the sun has set completely, allowing the moon to rise and take up on its duty for the rest of the night. it was only a few hours ago that humanity officially ended a war between nations. chaos ceased right then with only one victor left standing.
Y/N, nobody but a mere girl who was turned and twisted to be in the war not by choice, but by the lack of freewill. nobody but a daughter of a swordsmith. nobody but a daughter of a lady who sells potatoes and sometimes mooncakes during mid-autumn festival by the streets to make a living. you are nobody... but a doll of the battlefield, simply selected by some soldiers to be made into a weapon on the rough battlefield.
woe to you who survived through the hellish nightmare of watching your comrades get their chest pierced by spears. woe to you who survived the cuts all across your limbs by the blades of the other innocent souls, also forced to be on the battlefield. woe to you who was the only living being standing amongst puddles and mountains of corpses. and woe to you, for you had to lay a finger on your last standing enemy who eventually unalived himself for the sake of surrendering.
you still remembered the scene of the man standing in front of you, crying his eyes out and begging you to kill him. as the last person standing, shouldn't there already be some sort of peace? you didn't know why but before you could even say anything but to touch his shoulders, he used his blade and run it across the skin of his throat, allowing the substance you despised so much to swiftly flow out.
now venturing on your own after leaving thousands of corpses behind, you walked and walked and walked through forests, meadows, riverbanks, and eventually your journey halted as you stepped forth into a huge mountain.
you unsheathed your sword, pointing it at the direction where you sensed a presence lurking around. "who are you?!" you exclaimed at the person, a man with half a yellow and black hair. he possessed such blank golden honey eyes, almost as if you could drown in the dew, consumed by the sweetest of emptiness.
something about him doesn't feel right though. he is man, but he feels something more than man. something closer to a divine being that harbours magical abilities. why would a man be in the middle of a huge mountain anyways? why is the man dressed in such fine clothing and is alone in a mountain? is he a nobleman to be clothed such a way? what intrigues you the most is the two line that runs from his eyes down to his cheeks.
the grip on your sword tightens, ready to offense and defense for anything that might happen.
"what may a mighty warrior such as you be doing here?" he finally spoke, furrowing his eyebrows. the man spoke with authority, as if you aren't supposed to even step foot in this mountain. his honey eyes scanned all over your body, taking notes that you obtained cuts, stabs, and hurts all around. "you are injured. physically and mentally. perhaps you seek solace in this mountain. that is why you are here."
this man had read you like a book. the grip on your hilt tightened even more, before it loosens and you drop your arm. your eyes slowly dropping to the ground too. "you're not human. what are you?"
"the god of this mountain. rayne ames. i know the very inner being of any living creature that sets foot in my mountain," the mountain god said as he lifted his hands up and a group of fallen petals arise and danced along the wind. rayne spun his hands in a circular motion, the wind following to dance around you. then, the flowers slowly and beautifully flow down all around you. "everything of this mountain belongs to me."
as he uttered those words, a petal fell right at the palm of your hands. you gently held your hand out. even though it has fallen from its origins, it remains as beautiful and fresh as it first blossomed, unscathed even. the petal then jumped right out of your palm and flew away along the wind.
"if everything in this mountain belongs to you, may i... stay here and be one of yours..?"
rayne ames' eyes widened just in the slightest way, before it shuts, locking away the sweet honey dew. "i refuse. descend the mountain and return to your people."
"but i have no people!" you shouted. "i thought you knew that, stupid god..." that came out as a whisper, merely decipherable to one.
as much as rayne feels so much sympathy for the hurt, he cannot allow a human to live in the mountains with him. it is simply impossible. but your words strike him in a way that he couldn't quite understand. the words ‘i have no people’ reminded him so much of himself. just like how he is a mountain god and always alone.
"what is your name?" rayne asks, letting out a sigh.
"y/n."
"y/n, you may stay," he turns around and walks away. "but if you spill poison in the soil and roots of this mountain, i will cast you out." relief embraced you as worry left you when his words filled your ears. "you are now mine, y/n."
you are his, rayne ames the god of this mountain. the moment you spoke to him, the moon has already sent the stars to form a fate between the two of you. moonlight belonged to a mountain god who accepted a human girl and a mighty warrior who seek solace in the haven of a divine being.
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NOTES. omg what an exciting fic!!! jokes anyways happy valentine's day! this series will be updated every day 🖤
TAGS ݁ ˖ @kyoghurts @anqelically @caelivir @bbladie @ansbobcar @rjasmin2021 @lunareclipses-moments
© SENEON¦MOONLIGHT 2024. do not alter or repost.
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Washington State's capital gains tax proves we can have nice things
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Today (June 3) at 1:30PM, I’m in Edinburgh for the Cymera Festival on a panel with Nina Allen and Ian McDonald.
Monday (June 5) at 7:15PM, I’m in London at the British Library with my novel Red Team Blues, hosted by Baroness Martha Lane Fox.
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Washington State enacted a 7% capital gains tax levied on annual profits in excess of $250,000, and made a fortune, $600m more than projected in the first year, despite a 25% drop in the stock market and blistering interest rate hikes:
https://www.theurbanist.org/2023/06/01/lessons-from-washington-states-new-capital-gains-tax/
Capital gains taxes are levied on “passive income” — money you get for owning stuff. The capital gains rate is much lower than the income tax rate — the rate you pay for doing stuff. This is naked class warfare: it punishes the people who make things and do things, and rewards the people who own the means of production.
The thing is, a factory or a store can still operate if the owner goes missing — but without workers, it shuts down immediately. Everything you depend on — the clothes on your back, the food in your fridge, the car you drive and the coffee you drink — exists because someone did something to produce it. Those producers are punished by our tax system, while the people who derive a “passive income” from their labor are given preferential treatment.
The Washington State tax is levied exclusively on annual gains in excess of a quarter million dollars — meaning this tax affects an infinitesimal minority of Washingtonians, who are vastly better off than the people whose work they profit from. Most working Americans own little or no stock, and the vast majority of those who do own that stock in a retirement fund that is sheltered from these taxes.
(Sidebar here to say that market-based pensions are a scam, a way to force workers to gamble in a rigged casino for the chance to enjoy a dignified retirement; the defined benefits pension, combined with adequate Social Security, is the only way to ensure secure retirement for all of us)
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/25/derechos-humanos/#are-there-no-poorhouses
Washington’s tax was anticipated to bring in $248m. Instead, it’s projected to bring in $849m in the first year. Those funds will go to public school operations and construction and infrastructure spending:
https://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/politics/was-new-capital-gains-tax-brings-in-849-million-so-far-much-more-than-expected/
That is to say, the money will go to ensuring that Washingtonians are educated and will have the amenities they need to turn that education into productive work.
Washington State is noteworthy for not having any state personal or corporate income tax, making it a haven for low-tax brain-worm victims who would rather have a dead gopher running their states than pay an extra nickel in taxes. But places that don’t have taxes can’t fund services, which leads to grotesque, rapid deterioration.
Washington State plutes moved because they relished living in well-kept, cosmopolitan places with efficient transportation, an educated workforce, good restaurants and culture — none of which they would have to pay for. They forgot Karl Marx’s famous saying: “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”
The idea that Washington could make up for the shortfalls that come from taxing its wealthiest residents by levying regressive sales taxes and other measures is mathematically illiterate wishful thinking. When the one percent owns nearly everything, you can tax the shit out of the other 99% and still not make up the shortfall.
Meanwhile: homelessness, crumbling roads, and crisis after crisis. Political deterioration. Cute shopping neighborhoods turn into dollar store hellscapes because no one can afford to shop for nice things because all their income is going to plug the gaps in health, education, transport and other services that the low-tax state can’t afford.
Washington State’s soak-the-rich tax is ironic, given the propensity of California’s plutes to threaten to leave for Washington if California finally passes its own extreme wealth tax.
There’s a reason all these wealthy people want to live in California, Washington, New York and other states where there’s broad public support for taxing the American aristocracy: states with rock-bottom taxes are failed states. All but two of America’s “red states” are dependent on transfers from the federal government to stay in operation. The two exceptions are Texas, whose “free market” grid is one nanometer away from total collapse, and Florida, which is about to slip beneath the rising seas it denies.
Rich people claim they’d be happy to live in low-tax states, and even tout the benefits of a desperate workforce that will turn up to serve drinks at their country clubs even as a pandemic kills them at record rates. But when the chips are down, they don’t want to depend on a private generator to keep the lights on. They don’t want to have to repeatedly replace their luxury cars’ suspension after it’s wrecked by gaping potholes. They don’t want to have to charter a jet to fly their kids out of state to get an abortion.
This is true globally, too. As Thomas Piketty pointed out in Capital in the 21st Century, if the EU and OECD created a wealth tax, the rich could withdraw to Dubai, the Caymans and Rwanda, but they’d eventually get sick of shopping for the same luxury goods in the same malls guarded by the same mercenaries and want to go somewhere, you know, fun:
https://memex.craphound.com/2014/06/24/thomas-pikettys-capital-in-the-21st-century/
We’re told that Americans would never stand for taxing the ultra-rich because they see themselves as “temporarily embarrassed millionaires.” It’s just not true: soak-the-rich policies are wildly popular:
https://balanceourtaxcode.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/WA-State-Wealth-Tax-Poll-Results-3.pdf
The Washington tax windfall is fascinating in part because it reveals just how rich the ultra-rich actually are. Warren Buffett says that “when the tide goes out, you learn who’s been swimming naked.” But Washington’s new tax is a tide that reveals who’s been swimming with a gold bar stuck up their ass.
It’s not surprising, then, that Washingtonians are so happy to tax their one percenters. After all, this is the state that gave us modern robber barons like Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos. And then there’s clowns like Steve Ballmer, star of Propublica’s IRS Files, the man whose creative accounting let him claim $700m in paper losses on his basketball team, allowing him to pay a mere 12% tax on $656m in income, while the workers who made his fortune on the court paid 30–40% on their earnings.
https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#economic-substance-doctrine Ballmer’s also a master of “tax loss harvesting,” who has created paper losses of over $100m, letting him evade $138m in federal taxes:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/24/tax-loss-harvesting/#mego
These guys aren’t rich because they work harder than the rest of us. They’re rich because they profit from our work — and then, to add insult to injury, pay little or no taxes on those profits.
Washington’s lowest income earners pay six times the rate of tax as the state’s richest people. When the wealthy squeal that these taxes are class warfare, they’re right — it is class war, and they started it.
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Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!
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If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income
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[Image ID: The Washington State flag; the circular device featuring George Washington has been altered so that it is now the head of a naked man clothed in a barrel with two wide leather shoulder straps.]
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babygirldabi · 4 months
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can I get Dabi and hawks threesome headcanons or a fic 🌚 Srry I’m horny
LMAOOOOOOO aren't we all
Anyways hope you like daddy kinks and stuff
CW: Daddy kink, threesome, multiple creampies, degradation, praise, female reader, use of alcohol, let me know if I've missed anything x
There is nothing in this world that Dabi wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. 
So when he asks you what you want for your birthday, you do not hesitate to tell him the truth. 
The silence is heavy, and at first you think he’s pissed, so you can’t look him in the eye. Why did I say that Why did I say that Why did I say that
“For real?” He asks, in a voice so soft you’re forced to look up. His pupils are dilated. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth, he’s practically panting. 
“Is that weird?”
“No,” he answers, almost too quickly, then seems to collect himself. “No,” he says more slowly. You nod. 
“I know we’ve talked about it…”
And you have. Hypothetically. A while back. 
He nods. “This is what you really want?” The low gravel of his voice, deeper, somehow, when he’s aroused, makes you shiver. 
You nod, decisively. “This is what I want.”
And so, when he makes the call, he’s prepared to ask nicely. 
“I’m thinking about having whiskey tonight.” Hawks always answers Dabi’s calls as though they’re mid-conversation.
Dabi takes a drag of his cigarette before answering, leaning against the brickwork of your apartment building, lazily surveying the street. “Yeah? What kind?”
“That’s why I’m glad you called.” On the other end of the line, Hawks considers the store shelf in front of him. “Macallan or WhistlePig?”
Dabi snorts. “I drink Jack Daniels, man. Fuck if I know.”
“WhistlePig it is.” Hawks seizes the bottle from the shelf and begins to stroll to the register. “Nice talking to you, man. See you around.”
“Hey- where the fuck are you goin’?” Dabi’s muted voice demands as Hawks pulls the phone from his ear. “Get the fuck back here.”
Hawks obliges. “What’s up?”
“I called you.”
“Ah, yeah. Okay. Why?”
Dabi rubs one temple with his free hand, eyes closed. “You’re a fuckin idiot.”
“I was on patrol late last night,” Hawks complains. “Spit it out.”
So Dabi does. 
Hawks stops dead in his tracks, nearly dropping his bottle on the tile floor. “Excuse me?”
“For her birthday. That’s what she wants.”
Silence. 
“Pick your jaw up offa the floor, bird brain.”
Hawks closes his mouth sheepishly. “Now how the fuck did you know-”
“Because I know you. So what do you think.”
“You-she- I-she…WHAT?”
“I’m not the one making the request. I’m the messenger.” Dabi smirks. “And participant.”
“Is this a joke?”
“How I wish it were,” Dabi sighs wistfully, enjoying this shocked, stuttering version of the winged Hero so much he can’t help but prolong it. “But this is what she wants.”
In reality, for all the shit he gives Hawks, Dabi trusts him implicitly. Not that he’d ever admit that. Which is why such a request had to go directly to Hawks. Dabi doesn’t necessarily like to share, but if he must, Hawks is his go-to. 
Hawks pretends to hesitate long after he’s mentally agreed. “Shit, yeah, okay. As long as you don’t get jealous and burn my wings off or anything.”
Dabi laughs wryly. “I’m not makin’ any promises.”
One week later, your birthday has come and very nearly gone, it being 9 pm on the holy day itself. You’ve been brunched, presented with gifts, had cake (ice cream, your favorite), and drank more wine than Dabi secretly thinks is safe for you, but who is he to regulate the birthday girl. Now, everyone has gone home, the apartment has been tidied, and you are in the shower, washing the festivity out of your hair. It’s been a good day. So good, in fact, that you’ve mostly forgotten the request you made to Dabi a few weeks ago. This morning he had presented you with a beautiful necklace, silver with a blue crystal (Lapis Lazuli, if you remember correctly) carved into a flame. It twinkles at the base of your throat now, in the low light. You hum absentmindedly as you rinse conditioner from your hair, exhausted and perfectly content. 
 A low knock sounds at the bathroom door. “Come in,” you sing, shutting off the water and wringing your hair out. Dabi steps in. 
“So. Good day?”
“Good day,” you confirm, stepping out of the shower and allowing him to wrap you in a towel. “Great day. Thank you for making it so great.”
He smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Got one more gift for ya.”
Your head jerks up in surprise. “You do?” 
He nods, smug as ever. “C’mon.” Taking your hand, he leads you out of the bathroom, through your bedroom, and into the living room. 
“Keigo?” 
“Hey, darlin’.” The winged Hero is seated on the couch, but stands and swaggers over to you as Dabi leads you into the room. “Happy birthday.” 
“Thanks, but what are you doing he-” 
And then it hits you. 
“Oh.” You turn to stare at Dabi, who’s watching you carefully, making sure you’re okay with this. “OH.”
Dabi shrugs. “Far be it from me to deny the birthday girl.”
A smile spreads across your face, slowly, then all at once. “Really?”
“Really.” 
“Really,” Hawks echoes, reaching for your hand. “Why don’t we sit down, talk about the rules.”
You let Hawks lead you to the couch and sit down beside him, Dabi not far behind. 
“Alright.” For just a second, Hawks assumes his Serious Hero Face. “Let’s talk limits and boundaries.”
“Uh…” it’s hard to collect your thoughts. Flustered, you press your hands to your burning cheeks and try to focus. “Uhm….no wax play, no piss, no fisting.” You peek at Dabi to make sure you’re not missing anything, and he nods in silent confirmation. You can’t believe this is happening. “ Degradation is okay, and-" Your face is bright red by now, you can feel it. "I kinda....have a Daddy kink?" Hawks nods seriously. “Praise?”
“Praise is good,” you nearly squeak. Dabi hides a smile. 
“Safe word?” 
Oh, god. You have to say it out loud. 
“Bonfire,” you whisper, mortified. Hawks raises his eyes to Dabi in disbelief. Dabi nods infinitesimally. 
“That’s….That’s good. Okay. Yeah. That’s good.” Hawks is trying like hell to hold in his laughter. You can’t raise your eyes from the floor. 
Dabi rises. “I’m gonna go get some wine. Help us relax.” He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Hawks to your own devices. 
Hawks smiles at you. “Are you good? Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“I’m good,” you half whisper. “I’m, uh…I get a little…shy…”
“That’s okay. We’ll take good care of you.” The Winged Hero stands and stretches, flaunting his toned stomach under his black tank top, riding high above his joggers. “What helps you relax?”
“Crack the windows,” Dabi calls from the kitchen, over the sounds of glasses clinking as they’re set on the counter. “She likes the sound of the rain. And light some of those candles.”
 As you watch, Hawks flits easily around the room, lighting some of the candles you’ve scattered around the space, with scents like Banana Nut Bread and Bourbon Barrel Cake. As the warm, sweet smells begin to drift around the room, he cracks a couple windows on the far wall, and sure enough, the sounds of the rainstorm fill the room. You feel yourself begin to relax, leaning deeper into the plush folds of the couch. 
“Yeah, I can see it on your face.” Hawks smiles gently at you as he rejoins you on the couch. “Starting to feel better?”
“Yeah. I’ve never… uh, done this.”
“Really? Never?”
You shake your head. “I don’t know many…people. And none of my exes ever would've...Well, they weren't as trusting in me as Dabi is."
“Well, I’m honored to be the first.” Hawks puts an arm around you. “C’mon.” Obediently, you lean back against him, just as Dabi breezes back into the room, balancing three wine glasses and a bottle. 
“Told ya.” He addresses Hawks. “I know what helps.” Handing out the glasses, he sinks down on your other side, sliding a hand down your thigh. “Drink up, birthday girl.”
And so, you do. 
As you drink- careful to not drink enough to get really drunk, just enough to feel it and relax- you just talk. Except words are accompanied by soft touches; a squeeze of the thigh, a light brushing of fingers against your bare shoulder. It occurs to you that you’re still just wrapped in your towel, and though you’re nearly embarrassed you also acknowledge that really, it’ll just save time. 
In minutes, you’ve melted like butter between the two men. The towel is looser now; most of your thighs are exposed, your wet hair has been twisted into a bun to allow more access to your neck, which Hawks is currently buried in. You sigh, contentedly, as Dabi loosens the towel and gently pulls it away, kneeling on the carpeted floor to kiss his way up your thighs. 
“How are you feeling, baby?” he rasps, pushing your thighs apart. “You wanna keep goin’?”
You nod, and Hawks cups your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips. 
“Answer him out loud, sweetheart. We need to hear it.”
“Yes,” you bleat, as Hawks trails a hand down to your chest and tweaks at a nipple. “Yes, I want to keep going.”
“Such a good girl,” Hawks hums, reaching for your other breast to tweak it as well. “She’s such a good girl, Dabi.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dabi smirks, then delves between your thighs, unleashing his tongue on your clit. 
“Oh, fuck,” you moan, twisting in Hawks’ grasp. “Oh, fuck-”
“Loud, too,” Hawks remarks, amused. “Gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”
You obey, practically throwing yourself against his plush lips, whimpering as he sweeps a tongue against yours, forcing your mouth open. His hand grasps yours, leading it to the tent in his joggers. Without breaking the kiss, he carefully sits up far enough to pull his pants down, freeing his erection. “Touch me, baby,” he orders hoarsely, and sighs as your hand wraps around him and begins to pump. As you jerk him off, he pulls and pinches at your nipples, eliciting small whimpers from you. Dabi watches all of this from below, his tongue circling your clit as he jerks himself off. 
This is so much. It’s nearly too much, and before you know it, the familiar tightening in your stomach is threatening to snap. 
“Oh god,” you pant, breaking free from Hawks’ mouth as you look down at Dabi. “baby- baby i’m g-gonna cum-!”
“Give it to me, baby,” Dabi urges, and Hawks groans against your neck. 
“Let us see you, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”
That does it. 
Wailing, you writhe against Dabi’s mouth as everything in you breaks. Dabi holds on to your thighs, continuing his onslaught against your clit, while Hawks strokes your hair and praises you. 
“So good, baby, so pretty,” he coos, as your breath stutters and then slows. “Just a good little slut, hmmm?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, reaching for him and winding your arms around his neck. Hawks chuckles and pulls you into his lap, his erection pressed against your stomach. “C’mon, good girl,” he whispers. “Sit on my dick.”
You oblige, rising yourself up and settling back down as he pushes inside you, little by little, working your way down. 
“‘S big,” you slur, only opening your eyes to locate Dabi, who has relocated to behind the couch, pumping himself as he watches you lower yourself onto another man’s dick. His pupils are dilated, his face awed. 
“Wanna suck your dick,” you gasp as Hawks bottoms out in you and begins to guide your hips back and forth against him. 
Dabi lets out a chuckle. “Nobody’s stopping you, baby.”
Carefully, grinding back and forth on Hawks, you lean forward enough so that you can wrap your lips around the tip of Dabi’s pierced dick. He rewards you with a harsh grunt, then begins to gently fuck your mouth. 
The sounds of panting and skin slapping against skin fills the room; it occurs to you, vaguely, that you are nothing but a toy, a bunch of available, fuckable holes in this moment, and for some reason, that spurns you on further. Dabi lets you take him deep into your throat, muttering appreciation at your enthusiasm. Below you, Hawks takes your hips and roughly begins to lift you up and drop you back down against him, distracting you. 
“Oh, oh my god,” you choke, pulling yourself off of Dabi and pumping him instead as Hawks fucks you. 
“Yeah? You like it, baby?” Hawks pants, tilting his head back to see yours. 
“So-so fucking good,” is all you can make out, the way he’s dropping you back down on him is making you see stars, you can barely breathe. Dabi grins widely down at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce, your fucked-out expression. 
“Who’s my good little whore?” he croons, leaning down to stroke your face as his best friend fucks the intelligence out of you. “Who’s my dumb little baby?”
“I am, I am, Daddy,” you cry out, the familiar tightening in your tummy threatening to snap. “I’m your good little whore-”
“You gonna cum, baby?”
Your answering “yes” is echoed by Hawks, who has abandoned the premise of making you ride him and instead has begun thrusting up into you as hard as he can at this angle. Dabi watches in awe and faint amusement as you both implode, you, shaking and crying out, reaching for Dabi as you break, and Hawks whimpering into your neck, panting as he cums inside you. 
Dabi stands to the side of the couch, heating his palms and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you and Hawks both come down from your high. 
“So good,” Dabi croons. “So good, baby. You already made Hawks cum, that pussy is so good.”
Hawks doesn’t look remotely abashed as he lifts his head from your neck, peppering your cheek with little kisses. “I want to die in this pussy, baby.”
You laugh, still shaking a little from the aftermath of your second orgasm, then reach for Dabi once more. This time he obliges, lifting you up off of Hawks effortlessly and holding you to him, your legs wrapped against his waist. “Why don’t we give Hawks a little show, baby?”
You know exactly what he means, and you’re nodding before he finishes his sentence. Dabi briefly cups your face and kisses you, once, chastely, on the lips. “Gonna fuck his cum right outta you, sweetheart,” he promises, and then easily lowers you onto him, still standing beside the couch. 
Easily, almost nonchalantly, Dabi begins fucking you, holding you against him and pushing up into you. You tuck your head into his shoulder, panting as he holds to his word. You can feel yourself leaking, dripping with Hawks’ cum as Dabi’s dick fills you to the brim. Hawks jerks off, his erection restored as he stares, almost in awe, at the poetry of Dabi fucking you. 
This, to be honest, is your favorite way for Dabi to fuck you. To feel like a rag doll as he easily lifts and lowers you against his cock, the spot he hits at this angle, the way it completely makes you lose control. You stop thinking somewhere around thirty seconds in and let yourself become his personal toy, devoid of thought. You are nothing but nerve endings and pliable holes for this man in these moments and you are more than happy to fulfill that role for him. 
You don’t know how long its been or what you’ve said- you are vaguely away that you’re babbling as he fucks you, saying god knows what as you cling to his shoulders, letting him use you, when you feel it again. 
“D-Daddy,” your voice wobbles. “I’m- i’m gonna-”
“You gonna cum again, baby?” Even his voice affects you- you clench down on him involuntarily, and he groans. “Fuck, sweetheart-”
“I’m-I think i’m gonna squirt,” you gasp, and Hawks breathes in sharply behind you. “Oh god, daddy don’t stop, dont stop dont stop-”
“Come on, baby. Make a mess.” And you do.
Dabi pulls you off of him just in time; you squirt against his abdomen, rubbing furiously at yourself to prolong it, completely aware that the way you’re moving could cause you to fall, and not even remotely caring. When it’s over, you more or less collapse, curling into his chest as he carries you to the couch. Hawks helps him lay you down against the cushions, your head in Dabi’s lap while Hawks gently stretches your legs out against his lap. Dabi’s warm fingers sift through your hair. 
“You’ve done such a good job, baby.” Dabi’s fingers move from your hair to your cheek, and you nuzzle into his palm. 
“So good,” Hawks agrees, stroking your ankles. “You’re so pretty, baby.”
“Think you can do just a little more for us?”
You’re spent, exhausted, but you nod, anyway. Dabi chuckles. “That’s my good girl. Sit up for me, baby.”
You obey, and Dabi gently helps you onto all fours, facing you on hands and knees to Hawks, who is still languidly stroking himself. 
“Think you can suck his dick while I fuck your pretty pussy, sweetheart?”
Anything, anything, anything for you. 
Hawks straightens himself out on the couch, so that you’re able to lean down to run your tongue over his tip without any trouble. As you take him deeper into your mouth, Dabi begins to sink into you, little thrusts that pull him deeper and deeper into your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole. 
“You’re so good, baby,” Hawks groans, as you take him into the back of your throat. “So obedient, so pretty, so wet…”
“She’s- she’s a good girl,” Dabi pants, his thrusts quicker now, more urgent. “Aren’t you, honey? Tell us you’re a good girl.”
You lift your head briefly. “I’m a good girl,” you mumble, blushing- how you can blush over words after being in such compromising position escapes you, but here you are, anyway.
Both men groan. 
“Yeah,” Dabi sighs, then seizes your hips and begins to fuck you in earnest. You cry out, and Hawks begins to stroke himself, holding eye contact with you as Dabi pounds into you from behind. 
“Tell me you love it,” Hawks orders, suddenly brusque. 
“I-i love it,” you pant, eyes practically crossing as Dabi’s thrusts turn to an unforgiving pounding. “It’s so good, it’s so hard, i love it i love it i love it-”
“Say thank you,” Dabi pants. “Thank us for fucking you so good.”
“Thank you, thank you Hawks, thank you, Daddy, thank you, I want this all the time, I want you both, I wan- I wan cum, I-” before you know what’s happening, your orgasm hits you like a train; crying out, you push back against Dabi, your entire body shaking. 
“Oh, shit- f-f-fuck- FUCK,” Dabi moans, loudly, and you feel him pumping his cum into you. Your shared orgasm triggers Hawks, who shoots his load onto your face, panting and murmuring praise. 
All three of you slump against the couch, and against each other, a tangle of limbs. Finally, Dabi pulls you upright and back against his chest. Hawks goes to the kitchen and comes back with a rag, wiping your face clean before delivering a soft kiss to your forehead. 
“So,” Dabi chuckles, “Good birthday?”
“Good birthday,” you agree. 
Great birthday.
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
Text
Azzie, I think your mom is super hot…
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⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ Pairing: Azriel x reader, Rhysand makes a cameo, Cassian is mentioned, and Azriel’s milfy mom is the star of the show
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ Summary: Azriel introduces reader to his mother for the first time during Solstice. She develops a tiny crush on his mother and he finds the whole thing funny. Rhysand reminisces about the time he and Cassian called Azriel’s mom a milf and got their asses kicked. fluff, crack, so cute, az mom is just- wow…
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ Author’s note: Listen, I wrote this in the span of about an hour so it’s not really a masterpiece but I still love it. Also this is so relatable bc Azriel is canonically beautiful, like drop dead gorgeous and we all know he didn’t get it from his ugly ass father, so I headcanon that his mom is identical to him, resulting in readers innocent crush on her.
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Azriel looked at you with disbelief as he closed his dropped jaw. “ You have a crush on who now?”
Nervous laughter escaped you as you averted your gaze. Azriel had disclosed that his mother was alive, when he caught onto your habit of referring to her in the past tense. Unbeknownst to others, she was alive, with only Cassian and Rhysand knowing. After Azriel spilled that he usually spends Solstice with her, Sorine, his mom, went all out, cooking up a feast when she learned he was bringing his mate over for the first time. The moment you met her, you were totally floored, and your face lit up like a festive candle.
She was a carbon-copy of your mate and they were equally beautiful. It was like looking at a female version of Azriel. Her looks paired with her kindness and caring nature made you develop a tiny crush on her.
"Well, look who Azriel brought to brighten our home! Come here, both of you. I've been eager to meet the one who's captured my son's heart."
Smiling, you and Azriel exchanged glances before approaching her. "Thank you for having us. I've heard so much about you. It's truly an honor to be here." Azriel softened by a hint of a smile, added "Mother, It's about time you met the person responsible for bringing some light into my life."
Azriel's mother, Sorine, observed you for a moment, a twinkle in her eyes. "My, Azriel, you didn't mention just how beautiful your mate is. You've got a good eye."
You, feeling a bit bashful, stammered out a heartfelt thank you, your cheeks warming. And it certainly didn’t help when she gave you a hug, her scent reminding you of your mate. Azriel, standing beside you, couldn't help but chuckle at your adorable blush, whispering, "Told you so," as his mother's compliment lingered in the air.
Presenting her with the basket of treats and gifts, you eagerly explained each item when she asked. " Heavens, thank you so much, sweetie. What a thoughtful gift," she exclaimed, kissing your cheek and flashing you Azriel’s infamous smile. Heat prickled your face, you averted your eyes, replying, "Oh, no problems, Ms. Sorine." Her heartfelt laugh filled the room, and she insisted you called her Sorine when you returned to the dinner table to start the meal.
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Azriel noticed you squirming at dinner, not being able to fully look in Sorine’s eyes. Curiosity peaked in him, resulting in him pulling you aside when she went to prepare dessert. He gripped your chin and waited nervously for you to answer while a million thoughts ran through his head.
Was it too early to meet her? Did you like his mother? Why did you not keep eye contact with her? Was this a mistake?
All of his unease dissipated when you confessed to him about your unexpected, lighthearted crush on his mother.
“It’s embarrassing because I don’t want her to think i’m weird but I kinda have a teensy, tiny crush on your mother. Look, it’s no big deal but she is so beautiful and hot and I can’t help it. She’s so kind to me and I love her so much. And no wonder you’re a stunner, you totally stole your looks from your her.”
Azriel couldn't help but burst into laughter at your confession. Seeing the humor in your silly crush, he reassured you with a warm smile, "Don't worry, love. It's adorable, and I'm flattered. My mom will probably find it amusing too. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
Amused, Azriel gently cupped your face, his eyes filled with affection. "Besides," he continued, "it's endearing that you're so genuine. My mom will love you for who you are, crushes and all." He leaned in for a tender kiss, trying to ease any lingering unease. "Just be yourself because she started loving you the moment I mentioned you. She also threatened to do not so nice things to me if I ever hurt you."
A sigh of relief mixed with joy escaped you as Azriel's mother walked in, bearing a tray of delightful desserts. The atmosphere lightened, and you gradually let go of any remaining awkwardness. Engaging in conversation, you found a genuine connection with your mate's lovely mother.
As she shared stories, advice, and warmth, you felt a growing appreciation for the woman who had played a significant role in Azriel's life. Her care and protective instincts became evident, and you couldn't help but hold her in high regard for what she and Azriel went through. This shared moment cemented a bond that went beyond the initial nerves, leaving you grateful for the wisdom and love she gave.
As the evening wound down, and the shared laughter and stories reached their natural end, you exchanged heartfelt goodbyes. Standing, you gave Azriel's mother a warm hug, expressing gratitude for her hospitality and wisdom. She reciprocated with a genuine smile, her eyes reflecting the warmth of her soul.
Azriel, too, embraced his mother, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. The love and protection woven into their connection were palpable. Together, you left, hand in hand, carrying the echoes of a memorable evening filled with laughter, reassurance, and the comforting embrace of family.
The door closed behind you, leaving the night to cradle the shared moments as you ventured back to your own home, hearts full and spirits lifted.
————-—————-————-
In the days following the dinner with Azriel's mother, you found a moment to catch up with Rhysand. Curiosity tugged at you, and you couldn't resist addressing the unspoken aspect of the evening.
"Rhysie," you began, a playful glint in your eye, "I couldn't help but notice you didn't mention anything about Azriel's mother's beauty. I mean, come on, it's like a family trait."
Rhysand chuckled, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Well, dear Y/n, I've learned that when it comes to Azriel's mother, some things are better left unsaid. Besides, beauty, as they say, is in the eye of the beholder."
You rolled your eyes, sensing there was more to his response since he always gave a weird poetic expression whenever he was trying to deflect. "Spill, Rhys. I know there's a story there."
With a theatrical sigh, Rhysand leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Let's just say Azriel has a well-deserved reputation for being quite protective. I may have complimented his mother once, long ago, and let's just say he made it clear that some subjects are off-limits. Actually, me and Cassian called her a milf and he beat us up.”
You burst into laughter, imagining the stoic Azriel fiercely defending his mother's honor.
"That sounds about right, atleast I know what not to call her.”
Rhysand winked, "Smart move. Now, any more family secrets you want to find out about, or shall we leave the mystery intact?"
With a smile, you decided to leave the mystery for another day, content with the warm meeting with his mother.
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