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#feel free to respond though! I don't mind keeping conversations like this going
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my aftg take I'm too scared to share off anon is that the hatred the majority of the fandom has for thea is fueled primarily by racism.
people were way too quick to try and label the only canonical black character a pedo and abuser with NO backing. and were way too quick at spreading the belief that she was those things, and way too quick at believing it.
and then ppl try and blame nora for it! "how could she make her only black character so unlikeable?". is she unlikeable or are you harsher on the black characters than the white ones? Thea has never done anything worse than anything Allison, kevin, Andrew, etc did, but people find liking and forgiving these characters far easier...
hi! firstly, i don't get a lot of content of people talking about Thea so I don't reallyyyyyy know what it is people say but tbh? I wouldn't be surprised if there's truth in that
from what I've seen in the past the major reasons people dislike her seem to be the age gap + aggression + devotion to the ravens + the complete randomness of her..relationship with Kevin.
what I think is a HUGE part of this though is that she just abruptly shows up for literally one scene or two, and is not very likable in them. and like you said, some of the things she does is not that far off from things the Foxes have done but I think THAT is exactly the issue. if she was a fox (or even if she just had more screen time) I'd be willing to bet that fans wouldn't hate her nearly as much. (like if Andrew only ever showed up for two scenes? he'd be villainized so thoroughly you'd be eaten alive as a fan for even looking at him. same with Allison probably. Kevin also. actually all the foxes)
me personally, I definitely don't carry the vehemence for her that a lot of fans have but I don't really care for her? like I genuinely just do not think about her and I kinda disregard her whole thing with Kevin. if she was around more then id probably have very different thoughts but yeah I'm just not really compelled by her
all this to say: I wouldn't put it past some aftg fans to hate her out of racism and hide it behind "oh but she's toxic and problematic!" BUT what I think is probably truer for most fans is that there isn't anything to go off of besides a first impression that's very unlikable and a controversial background. I think if there was more of her than just that people would feel very differently.
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knapptapp · 2 months
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Elevator- JamesPotter x GN!Reader
WC: 950
You are stuck in a muggle elevator with James Potter, Who wont stop flirting with you
Tags: Fluff, angst(?), Sarcastic reader, Slytherin reader, Flirty James Potter, Insecure reader
A/N: Wrote this from a prompt, trying to dip my toes into the Marauders fandom not a fully fleshed out fic or anything. A little experiment
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“This might be a bad time to mention it, but I really like your perfume.”
“Oh shut up,” You said with a scowl as you once again pushed the emergency button.
Professor Corbyn had thought it a wonderful idea to assign the seventh year class a lengthy list of ‘muggle activities’ to complete. She had also thought up the brillant of idea of assigning partners randomly. Though you had your doubts about the “randomness”.
Still, it was a project worth a good chunk of your grade. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't blow it off. Which is how you ended up stuck in an elevator with James fucking Potter. James who thought your perfume was of utmost importance at the moment.
“No seriously, it's quite lovely.”
You ignored him and pressed the call button. A moment passed…..Nothing. Great, not even the phone was working.
“Where did you get it? From Diagon alley or-”
“Can you be useful for once?” You interrupted.
James pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, “Can you apparate?”
“No.” You admitted begrudgingly. Getting your license was on your to do list, there just hadn't been enough time. You were really starting to regret not putting it up higher on your list. You fanned yourself with your hand.
“Someone will come for us eventually.” James said with a shrug. He seemed completely care free and not at all worried about the situation at hand.
“Yeah. If we don't die from heatstroke before then.” You settled against the wall opposite of him and slid down till you were seated. It was just a tad bit cooler down on the floor.
“I know how you could cool off.” James said with a smirk. Just in case you hadn't understood his comment, he lifted just the hem of his shirt to reveal a sliver of tanned skin. You quickly looked away, but not before you caught a glimpse of a dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.
“Oh fuck off.”
James copied you and slid down to the floor. Instead of sitting with his legs tucked up to his chest like yours, he instead stretched them all the way out. The elevator was tiny and James’ legs were long, the sides of his red converse knocked against your thighs. Cloth shopping had been another part of the project.
“Have I told you your shoes are ugly?”
“Many times,” James responded unphased, “You just don't like them because they're red.”
“Horrible color.”
“I think you'd look really nice in red. Got one shade specifically in mind actually.”
“Yeah, no” You fidgeted with the fraying sleeve of your dark green jumper. House pride was taken very seriously in Hogwarts. Wearing gryffindor red was an act of betrayal.
“You would,” He insisted, “I even have a jumper that would look perfect on you! Says ‘Potter’ right across the back.”
“Careful now James, I might think you're hitting on me.”
“Did it take you this long to notice?”
You knocked his foot away with your palm. James allowed it before he returned it back to tapping against your thigh. He was such a tease. He had been on this since you two got assigned partners.
“Ha Ha very funny,” You replied dryly.
He tapped his foot rhythmically against your leg, you tried your best to ignore it. The elevator was completely silent. The music had cut off when the elevator had come to a sudden stop with a metallic screech. There was nothing but the sounds of James and your breathing.
Your whole body was on edge. You couldn't help but keep anticipating the worst. Any movement made you feel like the elevator would go crashing to the ground below, You were stuck on the seventh floor and you had heard one to many horror stories.
“I'm bored,” James said, “We should do something.”
“Like what?”
“Why don't we play a game of truth or dare?” suggested James.
“Truth or dare? Seriously?”
“What else do you have in mind?” he replied smugly.
“Fine, let's play.” you agreed reluctantly.
“Okay, I'll start. Truth or dare?” James challenged.
You sat for a moment, mulling over your choices. There weren't many dare options while stuck in an elevator, but everyone and their mothers knew James Potter was a master prankster. He could probably come up with something within a second. Hell, he probably already had fifty dares planned out. Better to play it safe then.
“Truth.”
“Okay..” James pretended to think for a moment, he stroked his chin and gazed up at the roof dramatically, “Why don't you like me?”
Oh. Straight into it. You looked away from him uncomfortably. The thing was, you didn't not like him. Honestly, it was the opposite. But you couldn't let him know that. You would never hear the end of it.
“I don't not like you…You're just loud…” You said carefully.
“I think i’m quite charming honestly,” James smirked.
“Yeah, you think that.” You said with an eye roll
“You don't think I am?” James tilted his head to the side, one loose curl fell in front of his eyes. God damn it. Yes, you wanted to say. I've thought that you are charming since fourth year. But of course, you don't say any of it.
“Not at all.”
“You're forgetting the rules of the game again.” He teased. He leaned forward, only a couple inches closer than before, but still all too close.
“I’m not lying.” You attempted to sound confident and self assured but you couldn't manage to bring your voice above a whisper.
The gods must have heard your prayers because the phone on the wall rang. James and you stared at each other for a moment. He finally pulled his eyes away from you and stood up to answer the phone. You and your feelings were safe for another day.
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pedgito · 1 year
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Thinking of an modern! Eddie fic idea where the fruity for and the reader are all hanging out (doesn’t matter where) and the reader is flirting with a guy over text, she decides to go to the restroom and take some nudes but instead of sending them to the guy shes talking to she sends them to her best friend Eddie Munson who is sitting across from her. Eventual smut.
author's note: i took some liberties here and excluded the fruity four scenario, it just wouldn't fit the way this idea came to me so i hope you don't mind!
cw: 18+ (minors dni), modern!eddie, slightly inexperienced!eddie, confident!reader, established friendship, mentions of reader having lots of casual sex/partners, a little bit on pining/unrequited crushes, handjobs, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 3.4k
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You can’t help but feel a little regretful when your phone dings for the millionth time that night, screen light illuminating the darkness of the room, the only other light source being the television position in front of you both. 
Eddie was, hands down, your closest friend. He was the person you came to for everything, even slow nights like this when you just wanted to be around each other. And it could, from an outside perspective, look too codependent. But, if either of you were ever feeling sad or upset you always seeked out the other without hesitation.
Eddie felt ridiculous, practically on his hands and knees after school in an effort to have you come over tonight—it’s mostly for show, hoping to make you laugh, but you can see how desperately he needed it. 
Still, the notifications on your phone aren’t immune to Eddie’s senses, his eyes dragging toward the phone set atop the coffee table that his feet are resting on, a quick succession of messages in one go. 
He clears his throat softly, angling himself away slightly as you reach for the phone, looking back at him apologetically. 
You weren’t always this inconsiderate, but Eddie never seemed to mind, not initially anyways. 
It was pointless too, some bland conversation with a boy who was much too desperate to get in your pants—but you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were being just as promiscuous as you wanted to be, so the flirting ensues. 
It’s not bad either, but it starts to blend together, things you’ve seen time and time again. And Eddie looks like he’s on the brink of passing out, head slumped in his hand and his lip pouting out slightly. 
“You don’t have to stay,” He says quietly, his free hand tucked under his shirt, pressing against the warmth of his skin, “I get it.”
Did he, though? Or was he just trying to be nice?
Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him high and dry on a night that he really needed you. And usually you both would be cuddled up against each other, but that wasn’t how tonight was going. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or exhausted, maybe a mix of both. 
“I’m not leaving,” You respond, half offended that he would even suggest it, “I just—I’m gonna deal with this so they’ll stop bothering me.”
Whatever that would entail.
“Okay,” He relents, his voice soft, “I’ll pause it if you want.”
The movie, pausing the movie—you glance at the screen and back at Eddie, shaking your head.
“I’ll be quick.” You assure him before fleeing down the hall to the tiny bathroom, unlocking your phone.
And while you don’t necessarily condone sending nude photos of yourself to people you barely knew, you weren’t exactly a stickler for following the rules. Plus, you were good about keeping any identifying marks out of the pictures, namely your face. 
You can hear Eddie move around in the other room, his walls dangerously thin. The old couch creaks as he moves and then the front door is squeaking open and slamming shut a few seconds later.
Smoke break. 
Well, that or he was giving you some privacy. 
You get a text from Eddie a moment later confirming your suspicions.
‘Out front for a smoke if you want to join.’
Followed by another.
‘When you’re done.’
You sigh heavily, switching over to your camera and dealing with the pressing task at hand, lifting your shirt up just above your breasts, a thin and see-through material that gave the subtlest view of your nipples, the curve of your breasts pushed together deliciously—you had to give yourself some credit, they were absolutely picture-worthy. 
You snap the picture quickly, fleeting before you overthink it.
But, it doesn’t feel like enough.
You reach your hands around to cup your tits, pulling them out of the material with ease so they sit perfectly on your chest, still slightly supported by the fabric bunched up underneath them.
Was it deserved? Maybe not. But, you couldn’t be bothered to second guess yourself, snapping the second picture and readjusting your clothes, phone scattering into the bowl of the sink as you set it down.
You did want to join Eddie, so you sent the pictures without checking, not realizing how detrimental of a mistake you made. The phone is shoved into your back pocket and you meet Eddie outside a few moments later, his back turned toward you as he puffed on the cigarette, nearly down to a stub. 
You reach around him effortlessly, plucking it from his fingers and pressing it to your own mouth.
“You could’ve asked for your own,” He laughs lowly, a deep chuckle that makes you feel warm all over, “I was trying to finish that.”
“Too late,” You smile, pressing the cigarette to your lips and puffing it dead, “I never finish mine and you know it.”
Eddie smiles knowingly, twisting you gently to urge you inside.
“Quick, before we freeze.” He tells you, opening the door to lead you back inside, the butt of the cigarette falling from your fingers as Eddie snuffs it out with his boot. 
“I really am sorry,” You apologize timidly, “I know this is supposed to be our time and—“
“Hey, it’s fine,” Eddie shrugs, poking at the frown line in your cheek as you look over at him, “you’re here, at least.”
Eddie grabs a few snacks and drinks to finish out the movie, letting you settle into the space between his legs on the floor, pillow pressed against his lap for you to lean against. He’s playing with your hair absently, your eyes drawn to the screen as he checks his phone, the insistent buzzing of an unchecked notification driving him crazy. 
He could only guess it was Dustin bugging him about something only he and Eddie would understand, but it’s not.
It’s not that at all.
It’s your contact name: two pictures attached.
Eddie’s fingers freeze against your hair, but it’s lost on you.
He’s not an idiot, he knows. God, he fucking knows.
And because he loves nothing more than to torture himself, he braves the fear that riddles his body and unlocks his phone, faced with the last thing he could ever expect.
“Oh fuck.” He says quietly, mostly to himself.
“Hmm?” You inquire, not bothering to look back at him.
Eddie stammers, phone almost slipping from his hand.
It’s not the first pair of tits he’s been blessed to see in his lifetime, but it’s not like he’s being bombarded with them on a regular basis. He’s had sex once, seen a girl naked once, in person, not counting the porn he watches on a regular basis—and he’s still new to all of this. But, this feels invasive.
Yet, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
The silence is digging at you and you turn slowly, hand pressed like a fire-hot brand against his knee that makes him jump, his eyes pulling up toward you.
They’re wide—shocked, lost, and the words that he wants to say are dead on his tongue. 
“Eddie, is everything okay?” You ask, concerning flooding you at his state of emotion, “Is it Wayne?”
He could keep it to himself, never tell a soul and live with the fact that he’s a total creep, bound to jerk off to the pictures of you at some point—he’s never outwardly admitted his attraction toward you, but he doesn’t hide it either.
Eddie hasn’t tried to ruin the one good thing he has going on in his life because his dick is telling him so, it’s the one thing he prides himself over.
But, that’s quickly flying out the window.
“Hello,” You call out again, “earth to Eddie? You’re starting to freak me out now.”
Eddie rubs at his brow in exhaustion, forehead creasing as he flips his phone around, “I uh, don’t think these were meant for me.”
You look at him, confused, tearing the phone from his hands and suddenly your mouth is falling open, not a word to be spoken. 
“I mean, I’m flattered but—I think it’s safe to assume I wasn’t supposed to see those,” Eddie rambles, “not that like, I wouldn’t want to, but I figured it’s probably better to tell you rather than you finding out later and thinking that I didn’t tell you for some other reason, not that there is…a reason.”
You smile widely at his dramatic rambling. He only ever did it when he was nervous, which was inherently clear now.
This was going…great, clearly. 
“That’s–” You laugh uncomfortably, softly, “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
“No, no—don’t be,” Eddie interjects, “I’m not like I’m bothered or anything—“
“God, I’m so stupid,” You reprimand yourself, tossing the phone back into his lap, his hand tensed tightly into the fabric of the pillow when you move, a small thing you wouldn’t have noticed without the cause of current situation, but you ignore it for now, “you text me—and I didn’t even think to switch it back to the other conversation and I just sent it, like an idiot.”
“I’ll delete it,” Eddie says, reaching for the phone, “I’m going to delete it right now.”
“You already saw it, I don’t think it really matters.”
And it’s the first inkling Eddie gets that maybe you don’t mind—it was a genuine mistake, but you’re more panicking for the sake of Eddie, rather than yourself. Seeing your friend naked wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it wasn’t one Eddie had a problem with, not with him harboring such a deep crush on you. 
“It feels wrong,” Eddie says, trying to laugh off how awkward things felt, “I mean, not that they’re bad photos—I think I should delete them.”
He shifts slightly, sitting up further as you turn to face him fully, knelt on the carpet at his feet—and that stupid, fucking pillow.
It’s covering the painful hard-on pressing against his jeans. Eddie hasn’t dealt with a situation like this since…well, ever.
Your eyes connect their briefly, the skin around his rings going white from his forcefully he’s gripping it, almost like he’s trying to rut into it secretly, relieving that silent ache. 
“Should? Because you want to, right?” You check in with him, his fingers hovering over the delete button, staring intensely back at you. 
“Yeah, of course.” He nods jerkily, “Friends don’t–don’t keep pictures like that, do they?”
He’s never been in such an unorthodox situation, learning the rules as he went. He never cuddled with friends or played with their hair, spent nights sleeping next to them in bed because the other was too tired to drive home–it’s a line you both have been walking on for a while, all that unspoken about tension collapsing in on itself.
“Only if they want to,” You tell, “You can–if you want to.”
“They weren’t meant for me.”
There’s a long beat of silence that has his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up.
“They can be.”
“But, what about–”
You shrug lightly, the light from the television shadowing around your face in a way that has Eddie mesmerized, caught up in the way you’re staring straight through him, your hand creeping toward his own, pulling gently at the fingers gripping the pillow.
“They were boring,” You tell him honestly, “and this is...a lot less.”
Eddie resists the pull for a moment, embarrassed by how easily he’s given himself over. It’s far from where he expected the night to go, and his internal monologue is screaming for him to say:
No. This won’t work. This can’t work.
“Eddie.” You say his name once, the tone in your voice telling him everything he needs to know.
Regardless of if this was a one time thing, you wanted it. And if all of this happened purely by chance, he’s thankful for the best goddamn divine intervention he’s ever experienced.
Eddie’s still speechless when you climb into his lap, thighs spread out over his own and his hands reaching around to squeeze at the wedge behind your knee, settling you more comfortably. 
This was normal, no different than any other time that you’ve sat in his lap, but your hands are hovering, pillow tossed to the side. You can see how painfully hard his dick is from where it’s pressed up against the thick fabric of his jeans. 
“I’m really trying not to make shit weird,” Eddie admits with a clipped laugh, “my body just kinda reacted.”
You shrug again, nonchalant. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Eddie glances down briefly, his hands rising up your thighs slightly, soft skin against rough denim. They squeeze at your hips, his gaze tilting back up toward you.
“What are we doing?”
It’s a question with a million and one answers, but you settle for something simple. Something Eddie can grasp and figure out himself.
“Whatever feels good,” You smile softly, pushing his long tresses behind his ears, the skin stained a deep red, “or we can go back to watching the movie and act like this didn’t happen.”
Eddie grips you a little tighter, like he might lose you.
“I can…help you out,” You suggest, glancing down with a mischievous grin, hands dragging toward the waistband of his jeans and tugging at the belt, “no stipulations or anything, unless you think it’ll go away on its own.”
“Probably–probably not.” Eddie admits. His morning wood wasn’t nearly as bad as this, but it always ended in him tensed up against the shower wall, fucking messily into the tight grip of his hand until he can finally find some relief. 
You eye him wordlessly–he can see it in the way you light up.
A silent ‘Then?’ hanging between you both.
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Eddie makes the first movie, surprisingly. His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling it with anxious fingers and sweaty hands, fumbling with the zipper until he can finally get it far enough down that he can wiggle his jeans down a bit. You lift yourself slightly to allow the action before settling back down, hands smoothed out over your own thighs. The aggressive tent in his boxers is lingering still–
“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie admits, “Like, without all the other stuff.”
And kissing didn’t feel right, too intimate for the situation despite how badly you wanted to touch him.
“You jerk off, right?” You ask, knowing the question is a little redundant. Of course he does.
He nods.
“So, I’ll just help,” You tell him, “or just watch, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Uh, no—I want,” Eddie nods slowly, looking up at you timidly, “I want you to help.”
There was no sense in him being shy, not with you. But, you get it—it’s uncharted territory, nothing either of you prepared for, but neither of you were turning down the opportunity. So, facing it head on seemed like the best.
“Okay,” You reply easily, dipping your hand between both of you to stretch under the material of his boxers, gripping him firmly. He’s hard, but everything about him is soft. You don’t dare a look, not yet, his eyes connecting with you briefly at the touch, his lips parting. It’s a soundless gasp, eyes pleasing silently, “is that fine?”
Eddie nods again, nose scrunching as you squeezed lightly, fingers rubbing over the fat head of his cock, the heaviness of him resting wonderfully in your hands. 
“Might—might be easier if you take it out.” Eddie suggests, lifting his hips slightly to do just that, freeing himself to allow more room for you to move, bare skin pressed against denim.
You peek a glance down in the poorly lit room, flushed pink head disappearing under your grip as you fist him tightly, his hips rocking every now and then to meet your movements, his hands squeezing tighter and tighter against your hips, subconsciously rocking them in time with his. There’s no friction for you, but you don’t need it—this was about Eddie.
For now, at least.
“God, that’s so good,” He whines softly, head dipping back against the cushion as his eyes squeeze shut, “yeah—like that.”
Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, rubbing testingly over the tip for a prolonged amount of time, precum drenching your hand until it’s sticky with slick, making a horrendously hot sound as your hand sinks down to the base and squeezes.
Eddie breathes uneven, a mix of a sigh and groan wrapped into one, voice cracking in the middle. 
“Fuck, what are we doing?” He rambled, a sudden moment of revelation. “This is so—fuck—“
“Feels good?” You tease, “I’m having fun, Eddie—and I think it’s safe to say you are too.”
If the sounds he was making were any indication. 
“You had other plans—didn’t you?” Eddie asks curiously, pausing in between words when things get too intense, his fingers digging into your back. It’s not painful, but you can definitely feel it. 
“Maybe,” You shrug, “but you’re my best friend, Eddie—I’d do anything for you.”
“Yeah?” He asks, his voice sounding higher than usual.
“Mhm,” You nod, leaning over him slightly until your arm is pressed flush against both of your chests, the ridge of his cock rubbing against the front of your jeans at this angle—he’s so close to where he desperately craved to be, but still far enough away that it hurts. “Anything.”
“Fuck, I’m almost there.” He warns, feeling ashamed at how easy it was to work himself up. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”
You’re quick, using your free hand to lift your shirt over your head, hand leaving him for a brief second—he almost pouts, the feeling flagging slightly as his orgasm approached, but then he’s got your breasts in full view, pressed tightly against the intricate lace of your bra.
He really can’t take it, his hand cupping over your own as you return your grip around his cock, just as furious and tight as before, guiding you down as he likes, bringing himself closer and closer.
“Can’t believe you,” He says aloud, not for any reason in particular, “—doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
You laugh softly, hand sifting into his long curls and gripping at the root gently, he moans softly, eyes boring into your own.
“Depends,” You start menacingly, “how much are you enjoying it?”
He snorts softly, “Too much.”
His eyes linger toward your breasts, follow the slow rise and fall of your chest, the thin gold chain that dips between your cleavage and holds a similar guitar pick to the one he wore, a gift for you after a year of friendship.
It wasn’t because he wanted to see you dawning a piece of himself, it wasn’t that at all. But, you wore it proudly. 
You smirk knowingly, guiding him toward your chest encouragingly until his mouth latches into your skin, his hands sprawling out against your back.
It was the push he needed, confidence surging through him as he mouthed at the swell of your breasts, fingers dipping around the cups to stretch the material down, revealing the softened bud of your nipples as they harden in real time, the breeze hitting them immediately.
Eddie comes with his face buried against your chest, panting into your skin hotly as he stifles the lengthy groan that escapes him, rocking into your joined hands with the aftershocks as his come hits your stomach.
He lets out a weak noise, somewhere between surprise and disbelief, sprinkled with an astute feeling of real exhaustion.
“Fuck me,” He groans, reaching blindly for the shirt you hand him, wiping away the mess he’s made without question. He can only assume you don’t mind, given that you so freely handed it to him, “that was…intense.”
You chuckle, climbing off of his lap slowly, adjusting your breasts back into the confines of your bra.
“Still want to finish the movie?” You say jokingly, but he almost seemed pleased that you asked. 
“If you don’t mind—“ Eddie laughs slightly, adjusting himself back into his pants, leaving his jeans undone, “I didn’t get on my hands and knees earlier for nothing, you know.”
“Fine, but—“ You point at his wrinkled shirt, yanking at the fabric gently, “I’m gonna need something to wear, since, well—“
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves you off slightly, a grin splitting over his features, “or?”
It’s a challenge, a brave question to propose in a situation like this. 
“I’m not sure you can handle me, Munson.” 
“Try me.”
It’s no surprise, Eddie knows you better than anyone. If there was anyone to take you on, it was him. 
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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dearestmui · 6 months
Note
Hi! It's anon, so uh this is my first time making a request so I'm sorry if it doesnt make any sense
Anyways it's gonna be muichiro x gn!reader or fem!reader(whatever you prefer) so it can be a short fic or long fic it's your choice, I haven't seen anybody request this but can you do one where muichiro and reader are in a secret relationship? But muichiro forgets no matter how many attempts reader says that the relationship should be kept a secret and at a celebration or birthday muichiro accidentally blurts out that the reader and him are dating? How would everyone react would they be shocked? Neutral? Anyways my request isn't really that interesting so I'm not expecting you to pick this! But if you do thanks<3
SECRET RELATIONSHIP
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summary: how would everyone react to muichiro outing your secret relationship? cw: none just fluff and very slight angst pairing: Muichiro x reader adittional tags: manga spoiler free, muichiro before ssv. word count: 1407
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When you and Muichiro started dating, you asked to keep the relationship secret. He didn't go against the idea, it's not like he was planning to tell anyone anyway. You were someone who Muichiro could never forget, however what he did forget is that your relationship was supposed to be a secret. It's not like he did care about who knew or not, it was nobody's business. But what he did care about was you, so he wanted to respect your wishes.
There were times where other people would hit on you, and in that moment Muichiro felt compelled to step in. How can people come up to you and flirt shamelessly like that? Don't they know that you're taken? Oh right.
When it was a demon slayer, he'd glare at them until they took the hint, not saying anything.
If it was a local from a village when you two are on a mission, then he'd tell them bluntly. You don't know them, so who cares. When you think he'd go too far, or risk your relationship being revealed, you'd nudge him with your elbow and glare at him. To that he replies with the softening of his features followed by a sigh.
At some point, when he was alone he started to wonder why the relationship had to be kept a secret. Should he not be able to express his love for you despite the public's opinion? He wanted demon slayers to stay away from you, and most importantly he wanted to be able to show simple gestures such as kissing your cheek. The most he could do was hold your hand in public, since you two were young no one thought much of it. For the first time(or so he thinks), he felt pure love and adoration for someone else. Is it wrong for him to want to express his innocent teenage love?
Of course, he forgot all those thoughts the next day.
There was a small celebration held by Mitsuri for her birthday, everyone she knew was invited. And god, she knew a lot of people. Muichiro would've forgot to come if it wasn't for you dragging him.
At the celebration, you wore such a cute outfit, maybe a little too cute. Muichiro felt an unknown flutter in his stomach, though he struggles to identify what he's feeling, he knows that his stomach feels tingly when he sees you. But this time it was more intense than ever. So, he subconsciously got a little too close to you — reaching to rest his hand around your waist. Which, unfortunately for him, you responded by moving away. He frowned at this.
"Muichiro, you shouldn't get too close, remember? People will find out we're dating." You whispered to him.
"....Sorry. You look pretty." He whispered back, making you blush.
Later, you and Muichiro were sitting at table with the hashira and the kamaboko squad. Everyone was having fun talking to eachother. You'd think that Muichiro would feel overwhelmed by the amount of people and loud noise, but he didn't mind it — considering the fact he finds Rengoku's loudness comforting. He wasn't really paying attention to the conversation, until Mitsuri, the Love Hashira, started to ask questions about you and Muichiro.
Of course, being the Lova pillar, Mitsuri has noticed how close you two were. She was a little dense though, not realizing you two were actually in love, she was just curious about it. The conversation snapped Muichiro back to reality.
"Say, you two are really close!! Are you dating?" Mitsuri asked excitedly. The thought of you and Muichiro dating made her heart burst! Young love, so cute!!
However, you who wanted to keep your relationship a secret, was about to decline that claim until-
"Yes, we are." Muichiro muttered on instinct.
Your eyes widened and a blush crept onto your face. While Mitsuri's smile widened.
"Muichiro!" You scream whispered at him, panicking and looking around not knowing what to do.
The others looked at you in shock, well instead of Inosuke who continued eating despite being confused on why everyone went silent.
"What? Oh, right." Muichiro looked at you confused, until he remembered the he just outed your relationship to everyone.
Needless to say, everyone was shocked that Muichiro, the Hashira who basically fuctioned like an emotionless puppet was dating someone. But his colleagues were happy for him, except for Giyuu and Obanai who didn't seem to have a reaction.
Rengoku was beyond happy, he's always been concerned about the younger pillar and took it upon himself to take care of him. He loudly congratulated you both on your relationship, which of course just outed your whole relationship to everyone at the party. Shinobu kept her soft smile and clapped, thinking it was adorable and also happy for you and the young pillar. Tengen was beyond shocked, and offered to give relationship advice to his colleague. Sanemi, also barely showed a reaction. A little shocked, sure. But he also felt a little concerned. Dating as demon slayers could be really hurtful. If one of you died during a mission, then what? He knew this from experience. He didn't say anything. He tried convincing himself he didn't care, but of course, he was too kind so subconsciously he'd start looking out for the both of you more. Someone who already knew about the relationship was Gyomei, who simply let out a smile and congratulated the two of you then let out a prayer for the safety and happiness to the future of your relationship. Mitsuri, who was showing the most reaction, was squirming and jumping the whole time, as if she had been proposed to.
Someone who didn't react so positively though was Zenitsu, his eyes were filled with scorn, almost shedding tears of jealousy towards the newly outted couple. How can someone like Muichiro score before him??? He let his jealousy be known; Tanjiro who was sitting next to him had to knock him out to not make the two of you uncomfortable. Speaking of Tanjiro, he felt relieved about Muichiro finding someone he loved. Yes, he'd definitely buy you and Muichiro a congratulation gift.
If you were to be overwhelmed by everyone's reaction, Muichiro would've taken notice of this and gladly take your hand then take you away to a quieter place. Though the people at the table would be confused seeing Muichiro drag you away.
As for the aftermath, Muichiro was so used to not showing any affection in public that he forgot that your relationship is NOT secret anymore... But, he definitely felt more comfortable to be able to be affectionate towards you.
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mappingthesky · 6 days
Note
“why am I always your second choice?" + planymphia 🤭
i am SO glad you asked for this anon, bc i've had something along these lines in the works for a while now.. this isn't exactly that, but here's something very close and very angsty:
There's so, so much that Nymphia loves about Jane, but right now, as Jane is storming through the apartment, there are a few things that Nymphia hates.
Nymphia hates that Jane is hurting. She hates that she's so angry she doesn't want to be touched or spoken to, that something has her shutting the door and turning on the shower and standing under the hot water until it runs runs cold. What Nymphia really hates more than anything is that she doesn't know what's wrong. That Jane has twisted her mind into tight, angry knots, and won't let Nymphia close enough to untangle them.
Nymphia sits in bed, sort of nauseated by the whole thing. There's something that unsettles her about seeing Jane, bold and unabashed and fearless Jane, so distressed. She feels helpless against it, like she's watching a storm cloud darken the sky and doesn't know the right words to quell the rain.
When Jane finally shuffles into the room she's wet-haired and puffy-eyed and silent. Nymphia's heart sinks. She knows what's going to happen next: Jane will be quiet. She'll keep her back turned while she pulls the t-shirt over her head, towels her hair, chews on her cheek. The conversation goes exactly like she thinks it will: Nymphia says something like 'baby', and it sounds like a plea, even though she hasn't asked anything yet. Jane doesn't respond, and Nymphia tries again, because she's never ready to give up on Jane.
"Hey," Nymphia crawls to the end of the bed, "what's wrong?"
"I'm okay, Nymph." Jane's voice is thin and flat and wholly unconvincing.
"No you're not." Nymphia's voice is tender and dripping with worry. "Talk to me."
Jane finally turns, not meeting Nymphia's eyes. "It's fine, babe. I don't want to talk about it."
Not with me, Nymphia thinks, because she knows what will happen when she presses. Jane's going to say something like-
"I'm good, I promise. I think I'm gonna call Saph, or Morphine, or something, and then-. "
"Jane," Nymphia hears her own voice, desperate and hardened, interjecting. And then she doesn't know what's going to happen next, because this hasn't happened before. "Can't you talk to me about this?"
Nymphia keeps trying, "I'm here, I'm listening," but Jane's already shaking her head and starting, "Nymph-".
"No," the words that have been collecting in a hard lump at the back of Nymphia's throat suddenly shift free, coming out hard and firm and desperate. "Don't shut me out on this, Jane. Please."
Jane's mouth twists and she catches her tongue between her teeth, looking like she's desperate to escape. "Just give me a few minutes with them, okay? I'll be off the phone in ten minutes and then we can just-"
"Why can't you tell me what's going on? No really, Jane. Why?" Nymphia's voice is strained, and then she feels sort of terrible because she's supposed to be comforting Jane, but her own eyes are prickling with tears when she says, "don't you trust me?"
Jane's sigh is the sound of heartbreak, and then she crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hand finds Nymphia's shoulder and her eyes search for Nymphia's face, but she's turned away and twisting her face to hold back her tears.
"Baby," Jane smooths her hair, tucking a long, dark strand behind Nymphia's ear. "Of course I trust you, you know I do."
Nymphia sniffles. "So why can't you just talk to me about this? Why is it always someone else? Why am I always your second choice?"
"Hey. Look at me." Jane's hand moves to the small of Nymphia's back, eyes pointed with guilt when she finally faces Jane with downturned, watery eyes. "You're never my second choice, alright? Never. I never want to hear you say that again."
Nymphia chews on the inside of her cheek. She knows, and still she doesn't. Jane's expression is heavy with concern and sharpened with guilt and after a while she can't look at Nymphia anymore, because it hurts that she's the reason Nymphia thought, even for a second, that there was anyone Jane could ever put above her. The feeling slices through her, cutting deep enough to expose what she's really thinking.
"It's hard for me. To talk about this stuff," Jane says. Its a start.
Nymphia peers over, thinking for a while. "It's hard for me too," she offers quietly. "You know that. But I tell you everything, Jane."
"I know." One corner of Jane's mouth lifts into the hint of a smile, a break in the clouds. "I envy that about you, y'know. How you can just say how you're feeling."
"It's not so hard with you," Nymphia sniffles and picks at her cuticles. "Not for me."
"I'm glad, baby. You can always tell me how you're feeling." Jane says. It's a bit ironic, almost a cop out. The question Nymphia doesn't ask hangs heavy in the air. She doesn't have to say anything, Jane knows.
"I don't know," Jane says after a while, a bit tentative, her hand softening on Nymphia's shoulder. "Saph, she's gotten me through a lot. Seen the worst of it, I guess, and... well, you know how she is."
Nymphia nods, because she does know, but it's not enough. "I just want you to be able to talk to me like that. You know you can, don't you? I would never judge you."
"Yeah, I know," Jane nods, eyes unfocused and somewhere far off. "I guess.. I just get so angry sometimes. I don't know why. I don't want you to see that." There's something more ghosting behind her lips, and Nymphia doesn't think she's going to let it out. And then, Jane surprises her. "I don't want to scare you," Jane splits herself open, her voice almost a whisper.
Jane sounds so small, so vulnerable when she says it that Nymphia can't stop her bottom lip from curling into a pout. Its true, what Nymphia says when she reaches out to touch Jane's face, when Jane's eyes meet her own:
"I'm not afraid."
Jane looks back reverently. In her eyes, still red and puffy, there's a hint of a glimmer. A ray of light piercing through the darkened sky. "You promise?"
"Promise," Nymphia holds out her pinky, kissing her thumb when Jane links her own little finger and does the same. "I hate to tell you this, but you're not as scary as you think. Can you tell me what's wrong now?"
Jane sighs and flops back on the bed. And Nymphia's there - watching, coaxing, waiting. Nymphia's always going to be there. Knowing this, Jane finally lets it happen - the surrender of her entire self, the soft parts, the ugly. It happens, and when she's done talking about it and there are tears staining her cheeks and she's starting to feel just a little bit lighter, she looks over. Nymphia is still there, still loving her, and looking at her with an unexpected smile that says something like you can't scare me off so easily.
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zoeykallus · 1 year
Note
Hey. I absolutely love your stuff. I keep rereading it all. It's wonderful.
I have this idea and it won't go away. So, reader is just casually conversing with their respective batcher. Or just lovingly admiring them from a distance. Anyway, they just randomly say, "you know, I don't like your name. I think you should change it." And when they ask what, reader says "mine", and then just walks away.
I can see Tech or Echo going from hurt to flustered, or Cross from annoyed to smug.
This can be before or after they get together, and bonus points if it leads to some extra fluff or even smut.
Either all batchers, or one of the three above. Also, female or gender neutral please. I wanna know your take on this idea.
You're doing a wonderful job. Keep up the good work! Thank you!
Aloha!
I think I know where this is supposed to be going, I just don't know if this can work with a person that has no last name/surname. But let me see if I can make it work. Would you mind if I pick a One-shot with Tech?
Tech x Fem!Reader One-shot - I Don't Like Your Name
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Fluffy/Flustered Tech
______________
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For a while now you've been watching the guys from Bad Batch, occasionally you've worked with them. One of them in particular has taken your fancy, Tech, the pilot. He is different from the rest, calmer, more intelligent, more introverted.
He has quite an extraordinary mind, and yet he is incredibly oblivious when it comes to flirting. But maybe, you think, he just isn't interested and therefore doesn't respond to the flirting attempts.
It's time to find out.
You see him standing in the hangar working on the Marauder's outer hull. For a while you watch him thoughtfully from a distance, finally you walk up to him and speak to him.
"Hi Tech!"
He looks up from his work in surprise and nods at you.
"Hi. What brings you down here? Does Cid have another job for you that requires collaboration?"
You shake your head and say, "No, I was just passing by, saw you working and thought I'd say hello."
He blinks.
"Nice gesture."
Tech is about to turn back to his work when you tell him, "Somehow I don't like your name."
He pauses for a second, but then continues working and replies without looking at you, "My name suits me, I'm happy with it."
"Doesn't sound like much, though. Just 'Tech'"
He frowns, you can tell he's annoyed, but he remains calm nonetheless.
"What kind of name would be more appropriate, in your opinion?"
"Mine."
Tech turns to you and looks at you critically, "Your name wouldn't suit me."
"Why not?"
"It's a woman's name"
You smirk at him and say as you get ready to move on, "I meant my last name, Tech"
The reaction you get is once again different than you hoped or expected.
His brow is furrowed questioningly as well as critically.
"Clones don't have last names, I can't change my last name because I don't have one."
You stop, sigh, and turn back to him.
"Well, you are a clever fellow my dear, think hard, in what way could you possibly get my last name?"
Tech shakes his head, "Not at all, unless…. Oh."
He blinks several times, as if he needs to reboot his brain. You see his cheeks blush slightly, and a smile appears on your face, he had finally understood. You think.
"You're proposing to me?"
"Exac- wait what…?"
Now it's you who blinks.
Tech says, "Interesting. Even though I'm curious, and a certain attraction factor is very much present, I have too little knowledge of your person to respond appropriately to this proposal. However, I do have a suggestion, a temporary compromise, so to speak."
"Um, oh yeah?"
"Yes. Would you perhaps be interested in going through a get-to-know-you phase before we explore this topic in more detail?"
You feel yourself getting warm and not at all as confident as before.
"You mean dating?", you ask softly.
Tech nods, "That's the general term for it if I'm not mistaken, yes. Are you free tonight?"
Your heart beats up in your throat all at once.
"I-uhm, yes"
Tech smiles, a very beautiful and rare sight.
"Fine. Meet me back here at eight? I'd love to take you out"
"Okay, I'll be here at eight," you say quietly, still not quite able to believe yourself what just happened.
As you walk away again, you feel like you're walking on clouds. Your heart races, your stomach tingles. Tech has taken your cheeky flirting attempt out of your hands and asked you out. You're not sure if that was really a misunderstanding or if he had played you, but either way, you're very happy right now.
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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310
@misogirl828 @tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
@agenteliix
@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaws
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@
@cpnt616
@dangraccoon
@starwarsnerd111
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vinxhwrites · 6 months
Text
fanfic: ghost is your neighbor (part 2)
cw: allusion to violence I not proofread
word count: 2,165 I part 1 here
"I can't believe you did that" Jess sounded exasperated on the phone.
It was a friday night and you were painting your own nails on the kitchen counter. Your two closest friends were on your phone, appearing to you in video form. Jess was looking directly at you through the camera and Cat was running errands while listening to you on her headphones.
"I said I thought about it, but I didn't invite him inside"
"Good, and you shouldn't!" Jess responded, you could feel she was upset with you.
"She's right" Cat joined the conversation speaking closely to her mic "You should be careful about these things...are you sure you don't want one of us living with you there?" she offered, you'd already lost track of how many times your friends had brought this up.
You took a deep breath.
"It's OK." you assured them "I know you guys are worried, but I truly don't want to exist in a constant state of paranoia"
Jess tilted her head on the screen, "I know, sweetie. Sorry"
"You don't really help us, though" Cat chimed in again, you could see parts of her face from inside of her purse, where the phone had been placed while he walked "A guy that casually covers his face seems like the worst possible choice you could have."
"True" Jess said "And you think he's hot? Honey, you really need to go out and meet new people"
"I said I think he is probably hot" you explained yourself again, getting tired of this conversation and already regretting telling your friends about the highlights of your week. "The rest of him is hot" you added.
Simon had first noticed the man on the other side of the street two days after you moved in. He always remembered people's faces and had never seen this guy before. Now he'd seen him three times already, the man was either standing on the sidewalk or inside his car. Always talking on the phone, always looking at the apartment building where the two of you lived.
He made a mental note to keep an eye on him, but didn't think much of it since the man didn't really seem affected by Simon's presence there. It could just be his own mind making him paranoid.
When you saw Simon again it was a Saturday morning, you were coming back from the bakery and saw him leaving someone else's apartment on the third floor while moving up the stairs. You froze on the step for a second, mentally rehearsing a 'good morning' that would seem casual and unfazed.
It ended up not being necessary, as you realized he was talking to someone else when you reached the third floor. He had a big toolbox with him, but waved slightly with his free hand upon seeing you. You waved and smiled back, hoping he was smiling behind the mask too.
"Really, mr. Riley, thank you again. We are really glad to have you back here." said a soft voice behind him, he moved into the hall revealing a short old lady, probably in her 80's, smiling inside the apartment.
"It's not a problem'' he said, and she thanked him again before closing the door.
You kept moving to the next flight of stairs and he caught up with you quickly.
"I help her with some housekeeping stuff" he explained suddenly, even though you didn't ask.
"That's nice of you," you answered, and he proceeded to walk up the stairs beside you, but neither of you said anything else until you reached the fourth floor.
You stood at your door looking at him on the opposite side of the hall. "Would you like to have some tea with me?" you offered before thinking.
He shrugged, "Sure". He unlocked his own door and placed his toolbox on the floor, before locking it again and crossing the hall to meet you.
You left the door open for him and closed it once he came in. You rested the bag on the counter and felt the atmosphere of your home shift, adjusting to his presence there. Simon looked around your apartment nonchalantly, making you uneasy.
You filled a kettle with water and rested it on the stove, the sound of his heavy boots walking around kept you a bit tense, but you proceeded to take the pastries you bought out of the bag.
"These are some intense curtains you've got her'" he commented, you raised your head to see him on the opposite side of the room, taking the heavy black fabric in his hands.
"Yeah" you said.
"I bet it gets really dark in here" he continued, experimenting with the movement of the curtains over the window. And that's when he noticed a familiar car outside, and there was that man again, looking directly at your window.
"Would you like something to eat?" you asked
"No, I'm fine" he said, still looking at the street "Are you a cop?" the question came suddenly.
You chuckled in response, arranging the tea bags inside the mugs you've just gotten out of the cabinets. "Do I look like a cop?"
"Not really" he murmured, but kept looking outside. He turned to look at you as you poured the hot water in the mugs "What is it that you do?" his head tilted to the side.
"I'm an environmental lawyer" you answered, you felt his gaze at you but didn't look up.
He took another glance at the bookcase on his side and felt a bit stupid for asking. "That's tough"
"Yeah, I guess."
He drew the rest of the conclusions from another look around your cozy but small apartment. "Fighting corporations, are we?"
"I try" you answered, getting rid of the now soaked tea bags. "What do you do?" you tried to change the subject.
"Military" he answered, not paying much attention as he kept looking out of your window. Of course, you thought. You felt uneasy again.
You sipped the tea observing his back, the silence bothered you, it gave too much space for your mind to wander around. He could easily kill you if he wanted, you thought, and you invited him inside. You thought of what your friends would think if they saw you now.
"Do you live by yourself?" you asked, trying to get rid of your intrusive thoughts.
"Do you work with politicians?" he asked, ignoring your question completely.
"Kind of" you said, you didn't enjoy how hard it seemed to be to breathe normally now.
After a few seconds of silence, while you tried to distract yourself with the tea, he asked "Do you have a stalker?"
You choked a bit. "Why would you say that?" your voice cracked.
Simon looked back at you and you opened the cutlery drawer beside yourself instinctively.
He approached the counter slowly and sat down, eyes glued to you as he got the other mug into his hands, making no sign of drinking it. He leaned a bit towards you and his tone of voice changed to something softer: "I don't know how to say this..." he started "but I think there's someone spying on you."
Your face was drained of color, you felt your blood pressure drop and slowly grabbed a knife inside the drawer, holding it under the counter with a shaky hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid, it kept repeating in your head, shouldn't have let him inside.
Simon frowned looking at your hand hidden under the counter, then let out a muffled chuckle "Well, it's not me, silly."
You took a deep breath and let go of the knife.
"I see" he examined your face carefully "It's happened before, hasn't it?"
You nodded, and drowned your head between your own hands, praying he wouldn't notice the anxious tears that started rolling down your face. "Fuck" was the only thing you could mumble.
"Is that why you moved?" he continued with the questions.
You nodded again, knowing that you'd start crying if you tried to use your words.
Simon moved uncomfortably on his chair, not really sure of how to comfort your emotions. You heard him take a sip out of the cup now, but couldn't look up to see his face.
He stood up again and paced around your living room, trying to be helpful. "You need better protection on these windows," he commented. "I don't see a security system installed"
"I haven't installed one yet" you mumbled, your voice muffled against your arms.
"Hm" he disapproved. " 've you got locks on the bedroom window?"
You shook your head, finally recomposing yourself again to look at him "Just the regular ones".
"That's not enough"
"Yes, I know." you said, a little more dry than you intended to sound. "Sorry," you sighed "I really don't want to move again.''
"You don't have to" he said casually.
"What makes you think there's someone spying on me?" you asked, playing with the spoon in your mug.
"I noticed a man outside the building since you moved, it was just a hunch"
You nodded. "They doxxed me the last time." you explained. "It wasn't that bad." you tried to make light of it in response to his pitiful look, forcing the memories of panic attacks and all-consuming stress out of your mind. The guy had been to war, probably.
"That's scary." he said in a very serious tone. "Have you thought of hiring a bodyguard?"
"I can't afford one" you admitted.
"Right" he murmured, he'd sat back at the chair in front of the counter now "I guess the endangered animals aren't paying you the big bucks, huh?"
"Endangered rivers" you corrected.
"That's even worse." he chuckled lightly. He took the tea mug back into his hands but didn't drink it. "Did you really think you'd hurt me with a butter knife?" it was a genuine question.
"It wasn't a butter knife." you defended yourself, a bit embarrassed by your previous reaction.
"Let me see it." he seemed amused.
You opened the drawer again and took out the knife. It was small and had a sharp-ish blade, good enough to cut vegetables, for sure.
He smirked "That's cute."
Simon gave you his phone number scribbled on a napkin. "Call me if you need anything." you thanked him and said you would, but he repeated to make sure you understood it "Anything. Call me."
You felt a bit ashamed that you had already cried in front of someone you barely knew. Probably failed your chances to seduce him already, but at least he was kind.
Simon spent the rest of his day wondering if something's bad had happened to you before, if someone had hurt you somehow. He kept thinking about your reaction the first time you saw him, how scared you looked, and he couldn't help but wonder if you've ever been hurt by someone who looked like him.
A couple of hours of online searching were enough to tell him two things: first, you were way too humble about your accomplishments when it came to "trying" to fight corporations, he found your name attached to some high-profile cases that distributed huge fines to different companies and got some lobbyists in trouble. Second: you were absolutely irresponsible with your data online, he found your previous address in a forum, your full name, a list of all non-profits you've worked for. He made sure to report and flag any and every comment that exposed any of your information on forums, gathering all of the information he could on those people.
Just two days later, while trying to fall asleep on his sofa late at night, the TV volume at almost zero, Simon heard something on the hallway. He jumped out of the sofa immediately, taking a quick look at the peephole was enough for him to see a man on his knees at your door, trying to pick the lock.
He didn't change clothes before getting his gun beside the door and moving through the hallway silently, still barefoot and wearing nothing but sweatpants and a white cotton shirt.
"Can I help you, buddy?" he asked, gun pointed to the man's neck. He was now completely sure that was the man that kept staring from across the street.
He put his hands up immediately, "I for-forgot my keys" he explained "I live here"
"No, you don't". he easily grabbed the man by his arm and pressed his gun to the man's back "Who's here with you?"
The next day, you woke up to loud knocks on your door. You tried to quickly adjust your hair in the mirror before opening the door.
"Morning" Simon greeted you, he looked like he hadn't slept much. “We're changing your locks," he announced, moving past you before you could even invite him in. He was carrying his heavy toolbox with him, and some plastic bags with new complicated locks in them.
He mentioned nothing of the events of the past night. He didn't want to scare you unnecessarily. Plus, he'd taken care of it.
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totallygallnuts · 11 months
Text
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💝🌈 What's coming next in romance?
Today's pick a pile is centered around romance, specifically things happening (or at least starting) within the month of June 2023.
There are 6 piles to choose from - feel free to pick more than one if you feel like it. ♡ Pile 1 has a pink butterfly bead, small blue teddy bear bead, and blue star. ♡ Pile 2 has a charm with a small purple bunny framed by a gold square. ♡ Pile 3 has two silver charms, a magic wand and a cloud. ♡ Pile 4 has a clear red heart. ♡ Pile 5 has a small silver slipper on a pillow. ♡ Pile 6 has a wishing well charm.
The revealed cards & interpretations for each pile can be found under the cut. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦
♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡✦♡
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For those of you who chose pile 1, with the three small beads 🦋🌟🧸, to begin with this is your pile if you currently have feelings for someone but are keeping them hidden, unexpressed. You're trying (unsuccessfully) to get over this someone you never got with in the first place because you don't see this connection turning to a romantic relationship anytime soon, or that being possible at all. You see this person as off-limits to you for whatever reason. Something interesting here though is that this person isn't actually as off-limits or disinterested in you as you think they are - this dishonesty is mirrored, both of you have a distorted idea of what the other person wants from the other. It doesn't show me why the one you love is keeping their own feelings for you quiet, but I get the strong feeling that if you were to openly tell this person what you wish for from them, offer them a romantic relationship and be the first to bring that possibility out onto the table between you it would go better than you expect. There is potential for new romance to fully bloom, but it is stunted by misunderstanding one another's intentions and wishes. You can only have what you want if you ask for it. Having an open honest conversation, free from expectations (bad or good) and without trying to persuade this person to respond in a certain way but presenting/expressing clearly your feelings without any strings attached - just for there to be no secrets in this regard between you - is what you are advised to do. Not only for the sake of romantic potential, but because it will only become a thorn in your heart if you keep things as they are.
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For those of you who chose pile 2, with the small bunny charm, if this is your pile you aren't currently interested in anyone in particular, or are already fully content - this reading is a novelty to you more than something like you came here hoping to see confirmation or be surprised. Rather than seek out anyone's attention or affections, you've been focusing mainly on yourself, minding your own business. You are someone who is very attractive to others because you are so comfortable with yourself, or rather, that's part of what makes you so attractive to someone who has recently developed feelings for you. You don't see this person, either you don't know them well or they aren't even on your radar for romance in particular, and it is this knowledge that you don't need them to be happy that has them feeling so compelled to get to know you, to prove themself to you, to impress you somehow. This person is likely younger than you, or is just more immature than you in some way - maybe they have their head in the clouds a bit too much, aren't very practical, or their actions towards you are just obvious, they don't seem suave or cool - I see them stumbling over themselves a little bit trying to gain your attention. The advice for you here is to just keep doing what you're doing, and let others be the ones to seek your attention, to try to impress you, and not the other way around. This doesn't necessarily mean you can't be responsive, but you don't have to try to make anyone want you. Comfort, contentment, and joy is ahead for you in love.
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For pile 3, with the silver magic wand and cloud charms, this message is very specifically for you if you are currently in a relationship and unhappy with it. You know this is not what you want, this is not the love that you hoped for. If all is fair and fine, this is not your pile. Soon this relationship is coming to an end, if you allow it to. I can see that this has been dragging on for some time, because you have hope that this person will at some point have a change of heart, or be moved by your own love and efforts for them. They will not become who you want them to be - you can't change them, they have to make their own choices. All you can do is allow them to be who they are, and decide if this is really what you want. If you choose to let this end, to walk away, then and only then can something new and better come in. You already know what you want to do, if this reading is for you, and you are being given permission to leave. You don't have to feel guilty or ashamed. All of the love you have in your heart isn't to be wasted on someone who chooses not to appreciate it or you. This is not all that is possible - there is better waiting for you. What is coming next for you in romance is a wished-for ending, so that there can be a new beginning. Have more trust in yourself, pile three, you are capable of doing what is right for yourself and you are so fully entirely worthy of love.
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Pile 4, with the clear red heart, there are three different scenarios here: firstly a confession from someone who is serious about you but is unsure if you feel the same, in the second you are the one to confess to someone else, and the third is that some confession has already happened but you aren't sure what's going on between you two now. All three scenarios for this pile share a common thread - a confession that does not have a clear conclusion as to where things stand afterwards, a quick start followed by an abrupt stop, solid/true feelings but something is missing - mostly the timing is wrong. Beginning with the thread where a confession has already happened, one or both of you want to say something more but is hesitating now despite having been so impulsive before. You may feel unsatisfied with how it went, how things are, how you said something earlier but now want to say it a different way after thinking on it a bit more, an unsettled nagging feeling you can't put to rest because you don't want to mess things up. Maybe you fear pushing this person away if you bring it up again - either for appearing like you're pushing your feelings on them, or for seeming like giving mixed signals to them if you were on the opposite end. There's warmth here, but I am not sure if it is that both parties feel the same way or that things are just tender and amiable in general regardless. You care deeply about this person and they also care deeply about you, there is more than just romantic love here but love in a more general sense as well. There is uncertainty with regards to whether or not this person can give you what you're hoping for out of romance, whether you two feel the same way or not. It is also uncertain whether one of you is ready for a relationship to begin with. There is a sense of not wanting to mess up your existing connection with each other by rushing into romance without being certain of these and other matters, or by having it become romantic and then become sour or take focus away from other pressing concerns and areas of life. If it has yet to happen, take the above as an explanation of the future results, whether you are to be giving or receiving. The conclusion for these three is also similar: clarity is achieved only through bold action on your part. This situation doesn't feel like the type to satisfyingly resolve on its own. You are advised to pause for a moment before you act, and be certain of what you want from this all - try not to do too much in-the-moment thinking, that's what led to this to begin with, be clear with yourself before you speak. What do you want from romance? From this person? From saying what you're wanting to say? What do you hope to have happen? Then, raise these to the attention of the other person - allow them to answer you if you have questions, rather than leaving it up to your own imagination. This doesn't have to be so confusing, nor do feelings have to lead to a relationship if that is not what is wanted by both. A more satisfactory resolution is entirely possible. Things are going to progress in a way that will surprise you, in a good way.
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For pile 5, with the slipper on a pillow charm, coming next for you in romance is an offer from someone, a show of interest. You don't expect it at all, at least not from the person it will come from. You are someone who wants a serious relationship, and you may feel unsure if this person is really being serious or if they are just playing around. There's a sense of distance between the two of you, either literal physical distance or emotionally being not on the same page. The past clouds your view of this proposition - you might overlay a completely different situation on top of this upcoming person, and feel that you are being tricked or messed with in some way. Try not to make any snap decisions, look only at what is and not what could be. If this person is not serious about you, and so not what you want in romance, you'll be able to feel them out very quickly - they might try to make themself appear more than they really are, whether that be more serious, more poetic, more intellectual, like they know you better than they really do, they won't be curious or open. The facade will disappear like a popped balloon at the slightest prodding. If this person is sincere, they will be patient and understanding and willing to meet you where you're at. It will feel gentle, as if it could melt your heart. Although you tend to be very on guard, pile 5, I can see that you also have secret dreams - ones that you regard as impossible, too good to come true. You don't have to accept this particular offer if it doesn't feel right, but a more important message than the prediction is that your dreams are not too good to come true.. It can be, truly. Such a lovely thing can happen for you. It's not foolish to believe in love, even if you have been disappointed, it doesn't mean it's impossible.
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Pile 6, with the wishing well charm, here I see that right now you're feeling rejected, dejected, and alone. It seems impossible for your wish to come true as things are, to you. While you are stuck in this swirl of emotions, there is someone approaching you very quickly and with purpose - someone who has very recently fallen in love with you, who also deeply admires your strength and wit and sees you as just this exceptional person, to whom none can compare. You are unaware of their feelings because you are so focused on your own, but very soon they will make their feelings known to you - not obviously at first, this person doesn't want to rush you or add at all to your heartache, it will be easy to miss but they will not disappear on you. I can see that this person is careful, likes to plan things out before they act, it isn't that they are manipulative but every choice of theirs is made with clear purpose in mind. Whether or not this person is the kind of person you wish for is unknown to me from this reading, but what is clear is that their actions will at least cheer you up, pull you out of your own mind, give you something new to consider.
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Thank you for participating in this general reading! I hope that you've found something of benefit to you here, I would love to hear your thoughts on your chosen pile(s) if you feel inclined to share. Take care! 💗🦉
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employee052 · 6 months
Text
guess who spent an hr fleshing out the lore for my tsp universe (aka what my blog is based off of, and also narry rn)
puttin this under the cut bc its long as fuck n i dont wanna clog up your dash djehfjsjf
(this was written on the bus so im so sorry for any errors skfjs)
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Fourth Wall AU
Characters:
The Narrator
Player/Oswin
Stanley
The Adventure Line/Lynne
Plot:
• The Stanley Parable (2013) started off as nothing more than a video game with a basic ai Narrator repeating a script with minor changes every run.
• Eventually, the Narrator gains consciousness but keeps to the game, trapping himself in repetition as opposed to trying to escape
• He has major issues with the endings such as the zending and the confusion ending. While he knows he was purely artificial originally, he prefers to ignore it and believe he is a real being with free will.
• Aside from the Narrator, everything in the game is coded. Stanley is just a vessel for the player, all the objects don't really talk, ad everything is planned, despite what the Narrator believes.
• He remembers every reset. Though not every ending in incredible detail. Endings like the Zending, Confusion, and the Skip Button are vague memories in his head. The skip button being a time-sped up ending and becoming a blur to him that he forgets normally.
• The Narrator knows about the developers, but cannot speak to them.
• All Stanley's input is from the players. The Narrator doesn't know this and just thinks that Stanley either has terrible memory or has vastly different mood swings.
• In the Not Stanley Ending, he realises that the player isnt the Stanley he believes he knows and splits them. Leaving the Player above the two doors room.
• The Narrator, in the HD remake, cant believe that there are real people. He knows of them, but knowing that they are with him in the game will give him an existential crisis/make him distressed, and as a result, reset the game (see: confusion, zending). So the game has a feature where it wipes his memories from the Player unplugging the phone up until they split.
• Things change when Ultra Deluxe comes out.
• The game is revamped completely, The Narrator can feel how smoother the game feels, especially since its running in unity despite it looking exactly like its 2013 version on the source engine (? fact check this)
• One major change is that the Narrator can hear some players as they play the game. Given that they have a working mic and all.
• Surprisingly he doesn't mind it. Enjoying getting reactions from his script despite the fact its real people.
• Ultra Deluxe loses the feature to reset the game if the Narrator gets too upset. Instead, its a plannes forced reset.
• Eventually, he ends up with a player whom he enjoys hearing the responses to. Responding to the Narrator like they were in a conversation as the player rambles. Internally, he's scared to break the fourth wall. Afraid it might spook the player and lose this one shred of genuine connection.
• They continue like this for a while. The narrator subtly changing the delivery of his lines to better suit the players moods. In turn the player responds as usual, without noticing that the Narrators dialogue is changing.
• Its subtle. Being more harsh and boring when they hear the player talking about an exam they should be studying for and not here playing the game so they can leave and do well. Being more soft when theres that all too familiar hurt tone in their voice while they play. Being a bit more snarky when they laugh at everything he says. The player even goes to the starry dome to study, and the Narrator feels like he is hanging out with a friend, knowing that the player would never go into the other room. (They have, once. then never again)
• At some point, the Narrator slips up and responds to something the player says and as while he fears a negative reaction, he gets a surprised gasp followed by a few noises he cant place before a "Is that new Narry dialogue?! lets fucking go!"
• The narrator sighs in relief before chuckling a bit. "Language, dear player."
• The player pauses. Now there is the silence he was afraid of.
• "...Hello?"
• "Hello, Player."
• More silence.
• "This... this isnt prerecorded right? No voice recognition system in the game-?"
• "Prerecorded?! I'll have you know I do all of my voice lines live for you players, thank you." He scoffs, somewhat offended
• "Have you been listening to every players reactions this whole time?!"
• "Well not every player of the Stanley Parable. But right now its just been you that ive been hearing for the past few months."
• "Oh my god you must've heard me talk about your voice so much- im so sorry."
• He laughs, surprisingly genuine. "Nonsense! It's been a delight hearing your responses and your voice, Player-"
• "Oswin." The player says gently, "My name is Oswin, Narrator."
• "...Well, Oswin. To be perfectly honest, I adore hearing your responses to the game and to my script. You are one of the rare few who respond as though we were in conversation and truth be told, its a welcome change to the players who tell me to piss off or talk to themselves."
• They snort. "You mean the youtubers?"
• "Definitely."
• Thus starts A friendship between Oswin and the Narrator
• With this new connection, the Narrator slowly gets used to the idea of sentience and the real world. Feeling more and more human as the friendship helps him understand his world and beyond.
• He gets used to manipulating the game around him. Locking the game to be only on Oswin's computer and being able to interact with him through screens.
• While this happens, the game slowly starts to glitch. Stanley becomes sentient, going through the same dillema the Narrator had, however the Narrator is able to reassure him and help him understand.
• It takes a bit of work, considering that Stanley up until their instance of the game locked onto Oswin's PC had undergone every ending an unfathomable amount of times. With his sentience he has to process the fact that both he and the narrator were trapped in the game with no free will.
• At this time, the Narrator manages to enter the real world. With some help of coding magic and Oswin's powers alowing him to exist in the real world.
• The Adventure Line grows sentient too. However due to the fact that the Line was never fully fleshed out as a character, when it came to the real world, it turned into a teenage girl by the name of Lynne.
• Stanley also enters the real world.
The three of them are able to pop in and out of the Parable. It being treated more like their second home
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extrasensoryscholar · 6 months
Text
Introduction.
Hello, hello! My name is Alzis Myers, and I am a naturally born psychic... No, I do not also specialize in psychic type pokemon. Stop asking.
I am a history enthusiast, and while I do work professionally, (you may have heard my name in a few places,) most of my research and findings are independent. Unless it's peer-reviewed, take it with a grain of salt!
However, I primarily made this account not to publish my musings, but as an attempt to socialize! If I come off as off-putting, I truly, truly apologize. It has been a while since I've held proper conversations.
But, enough about me. I'm not a Pokemon trainer, but I have three Pokemon of my own.
Delphi (♀️) - My Absol. The partner I've had longest, and my best friend. She's an older girl now.
Kiran (♂️) - My Cubone. He's still very young and small. I've had him for about a year and a half now.
Atlas (???) - My Sigilyph. It's an Alpha. I am not quite sure about many things regarding it, but it enjoys patrolling my property, I think.
I shall be getting a proper image of them soon!
Hello! This is the OOC part of the introduction >:) I follow from @act11as! Muse is an adult, mod is a minor, don't be weird, etc.
Please note the blanket unreality warning in the description, I do not tag #unreality to avoid flooding the tag, but I do try to tag all non-out of character posts with #pkmn irl in case you need to block things from your dashboard at times! On that same note, OOC posts will be tagged as such, and I will mark them with green text (though often not past the first line, because it can be grating to look at after a while)
All trigger warnings will be tagged as "[word] tw" for the sake of consistency. And if I forget to tag something, please shoot me a dm or an ask!
Additionally: Please note that I am autistic and very chronically ill. I may have to end things earlier than they were planned to be because I just suddenly had a flare-up, and I often misinterpret/forget things, o7 please feel free to remind/correct me if I do!
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Guidelines? I guess?
Literally any kind of pokemon irl blog can interact! Sentient pokemon, eebydeebies, evil teams, whatever. I'm chill with anyone, though the muse may not be, keep this in mind. If you want to do something, send me a dm! I'm more than happy to discuss things ^^
IN CHARACTER anon hate, be it just being an ass, homophobia, transphobia etc. etc. are perfectly fine. Note that I probably wont respond to all, especially if it seems to go a bit too far. (same vein: Feel free to start arguments with him if you want. It's always fun to write him angry <3)
^ Additionally, feel free to harass him for the bit. Just for funsies. I love playing into it if you can't tell!
Alzis is very much a morally grey character. His opinions are not my own, etc. He's also an unreliable narrator! PLEASE question what he says.
Extra:
Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are always open! Feel free to torment this guy whenever you so please. (links go to the source posts for all 3 lol)
Musharna mail, (sending dreams) and Musharna malice (sending nightmares) are always on! Once again feel free to torment this guy.
Magic anons are usually off, unless I specifically specify otherwise!
Some organizational tags:
#[nickname] the [pokemon] - Most posts about Alzis' pokemon should be tagged like this.
#Inquiries and Comments - Custom ask tag
#Alzis' ramblings - General post tag!
#Pokehistory rants - History rants and rambles!
Additionally, here's his playlist! Don't... mind the 4 different Mind Electrics... bro's going through it.
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modern-day-bard · 3 months
Text
Worth The Feeling
Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.
Chapter 22
Apparently Barb had been right. Neither Dwayne nor Lloyd seemed to care that I had been seeing Javi. Not that Lloyd mentioned anything, and truthfully I wasn't even sure if he knew. I leave work that day just the same as any other day. Besides the nagging feeling that this isn't over, and my sad suspicion over why I still haven't seen or heard from Javi, everything else was normal. Only two people asked me about my fainting today, too. No weird looks this time either. I had been mostly behind the scenes today, so I didn't see Lana, but I texted her to ask if she had heard anything and she hadn't. Everyone truly was busy at work. Maybe it was my average, L.A.-free upbringing, but I expected a much larger scandal my first day back.
I take a shower first thing upon arriving home. L.A. was nothing compared to the Italian heat, but I could still use a bit of a clean. Plus, it would distract me from the fact that I still have not heard from Javi. Amidst everything, I'm still hurt by that fact. Barb and Dwayne admitted that his behavior showed some sort of interest, but I like to think I know his character better than them. Meaning, maybe he would react like that to almost anyone fainting. I decide to double-shampoo my hair to avoid diving too deeply into that thought. After I dry off, a put on some sleep shorts and a plain white t-shirt before putting on the kettle to make some tea. I'm not much of a chef, but I feel like I should really try to cook tonight in an additional effort to keep my mind off things. Especially now that I know I can still afford groceries. I've been staring at my near-bare refrigerator for about thirty seconds when my phone lights up. I nearly drop a jar of pickles when I see who it's from.
Javi: Can we talk?
My heart practically ricochets out of my chest. Will I look desperate if I reply right away? Has he been looking for a way out of...whatever this is? Or maybe he's upset that he had to have multiple conversations with Dwayne, one being with their PR manager. My kettle screams from the stove, and I jump almost high enough to land straight on my countertop. I quickly move to set it aside. I put a tea bag into a mug, taking a deep breath as I pour the steaming water in. I figure that a cup of tea's worth of time in between my response is enough. Or it's at least all I can stand. As soon as the kettle is set back on the stove, I race to reply.
I type out of a few options, but err on the side of caution.
Me: Of course. Should I call you?
Javi types for a minute or so before the bubbles disappear. I wonder if it's possible for me to hold my breath for a solid two minutes without fainting again.
Finally, 90 agonizing-seconds later, he replies.
Javi: Would it be alright if we spoke in person?
Me: I think that would be best. Do you want to meet in your trailer tomorrow?
Javi: Actually, I'm around the corner of your place. I felt like going for a drive. There's no pressure for you to let me in. But would it be okay if I came to see you now?
Forget holding my breath, I was now choking on it. But even though my nervous system hummed with anxiety, it was also mixed with anticipation. So much so that I forego the reality that Javi would be seeing my post-nervous breakdown studio apartment for the first time and respond with:
Me: Let me know when you're here.
I don't bother rushing for a hair dryer or a change of clothes. Partially because there's no way I would have the time, but also because he's already seen me like this. Granted it was under far better circumstances. I did take the chance to pick up a few pieces of laundry off the floor, though. I just set them in the basket when my doorbell rang. I buzzed him in without using the speaker, and less than a minute later there was a soft knock at my door. I took another, cleansing breath before I opened it.
It was as though sunlight itself was on my doorstep.
If sunlight came dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie. His hair had been lightened slightly by the Italian sun, something I hadn't noticed until contrasted with L.A. after dark, and his deep brown eyes were shining. And the romantic, seeking part of me thought they shined a little brighter when I looked at him. But in the split second before either of us spoke, I recognize the worry there. Worry masked as almost deep concentration. Then his lips part, and it looks as though he is...relieved, even though he still holds worry around the corners of his eyes.
"Ava," He sounds breathless. I wait for him to say something else, but nothing comes.
"Hi," I almost whisper. "Would you like to come in?"
"Are you sure? We can always speak tomorrow, but I think production is trying to keep us separate for now. Otherwise I wouldn't be dropping by like this–"
"Javi, it's fine. Come in, please." I open the door wider, gesturing for him to walk through. He does, leaving a glorious path of his smell in his wake. I close my eyes only for a moment while his back is still turned to me, trying to soak it in as much as possible.
Javi takes in all 700-square-feet of my place, shoving his hands in his pockets. I've never seen him look so out of place.
"Take a seat," I say, not needing to point out that my lone sofa was the only option. "Do you want some tea? I just poured myself a cup."
"No, no. Thank you."
So he won't be staying long, then. I grab my mug anyway before joining him on the couch. My body yearns to sit as close to him as possible, but I use the tea as an excuse to sit on the end so I can place it on the side table.
Once I place my mug down, there is nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do except look at him with that same, borderline tortured expression on.
"Are you...okay?" I ask slowly.
That relieved expression comes back, but only for a moment. "Yes, I'm fine. Ava, I–" His voice breaks, and he rubs his hands up and down his thighs. "I was so worried about you."
My heart just about shatters. I bring my knees up to my chest, picking at an invisible strand on the couch. "I wanted to reach out to you, but when you didn't check in I thought...I don't know. I knew you'd be busy with meetings and the flight home–"
"How was the flight home?"
I look at him now, and his gaze is so sincere that I want to cry. "It was okay, actually. The flight home is usually a bit easier. Honestly I was mostly focused on the fact that I either stained your reputation or possibly lost my job. Or both. Suddenly the flight didn't seem so bad." I chuckle darkly. Javi reaches for the hand resting on my knee, hesitantly. I give it to him as if we've done this a hundred times.
"I'm glad. I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"Don't be sorry for that. I'm so sorry I fainted, that's only happened once before and it made a tense conversation so much worse."
"If I can't apologize for not being on the flight, you definitely can't apologize for fainting." Javi lets out a small chuckle now, and I follow suit.
"Ava," he says, stroking my hand, "I want to explain myself and what happened afterwards. But first..." His hand moves up my arm, giving it a gentle tug. "Can you come here, please?" His voice is gravel, and all I can do is nod, allowing him to pull up against his side. His free hand moves to rest on the side of my face, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear. Javi rests his forehead against mine before placing a featherlight kiss to my lips, almost making my knees press together. Before I can demand more, he pulls back and leaves the same light kiss on my nose, and then my forehead. He strokes my face again, as if confirming that I'm not a mirage.
"You're really alright?" He whispers.
"Yes," I breathe, "Heat exhaustion doesn't last that long."
"I'm glad, but I also mean what happened with Blake."
I sit back a little so I can assess his demeanor. "I wouldn't do that to you. I'm not saying you and I had the 'exclusive' conversation, but I'm not that type of person."
Javi looks wounded. "Ava, I mean are you okay after what happened with him? I wanted to kill him where he stood when he said those things about you."
"Oh," I really hadn't thought about the night he actually showed up to the room. "I was shaken up at the time. Nothing happened besides him grabbing my waist. Luckily Lana was in the room, and she came out of the bathroom right as he was trying...whatever he was trying to do. But I'm okay."
Javi's face was hard as stone. It was a stiff contrast between the gentle patterns his fingers were making on my knee. "Are you going to report him to HR?"
I pause, knowing that I made that decision back in Italy, but also unsure of how Javi might take it.
"No. I already talked it through with Lana that night. He's a creep for sure but...I just don't think it's what I want to do. I'm just glad he was only with us on location."
"For his sake, I'm glad as well." I'm not sure if he meant me to hear that or not.
His icy gaze falls to the floor.
"You know, Dwayne asked me today if I was going to press charges against either one of you. He said you took credit for the full affair. Nothing at work is changing, not even the promotion." I can't help the suspicion in my tone. It was too good to be true, and I knew it since I walked out of the meeting this morning. His gaze doesn't falter as he remains focused on the floor.
"Javi," I gently stroke his arm, trying to ease his tension. "What does that mean? Why would I want to press charges against you?"
He takes a deep breath, glancing into my eyes for a moment before focusing his attention to my hand resting on his arm. "At the cast dinner, the same night Blake came to your room, our PR manager, Tom, was buttering me up about Norwick's marketing plans. The company is pushing for romance rumors between Emma and me to spark interest for the film."
I feel a sharp pain in my gut at the notion, but I fear that any sign of hesitancy will keep him from speaking altogether, so I ignore it.
"Tom was encouraging me to actually get close to her. I've heard this sort of thing before. It was a simple, yet heavy, suggestion at the dinner. But after what happened on the beach with Blake and then your accident..."
My hand stills on his skin, too gripped by what he's saying to continue my previous efforts of easing the tension.
"Ava, I was so worried." His voice cracks just a smidge, "That fucking asshole was so busy trying to lie about your integrity that neither him or Dwayne noticed you were stumbling. You went pale, and you weren't responding to me. And it's my fault. We could have written this entire thing off and Blake would've been seen as a liar if it weren't for my reaction. No one moved fast enough. They weren't calling for a medic, you weren't waking up. I carried you up the beach to the top of the hill and the medic finally met us there. They took you away on one of the carts and I wanted to be with you so badly. I don't want you ever to think that I planned on letting you be alone this entire time, or not reaching out to you. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you woke up alone and I'm sorry for my reaction, I just–I was so worried." Javi's brows are drawn together as tight as I've ever seen them and he's looking at me as if I hold all the answers to some invisible problem. I move my hand from his arm to cup his face, dragging my thumb down his cheek. I'm about to tell him that there is nothing to forgive him for, that I really wasn't harmed by any of it, but he continues.
"Dwayne at that point was convinced of our relationship. Thankfully Blake wasn't quick witted enough to add fuel to the fire. He didn't pretend to be concerned and he didn't insinuate that this meant you and I were together. But he didn't have to. I could see it as soon as I walked back down to the shore and saw Dwayne. I tried to act normal when I returned, especially once Barb texted me that you woke up, but it didn't matter. Dwayne said he would set up a meeting with me directly after we finished the shoot for that day. When I arrived, it was just Dwayne and Tom. I thought it was a good sign until Tom spoke. He told me what a PR nightmare this could be, me being involved with a younger woman. That the press would spin it so I would look as though I took advantage of you. It would damage both of our reputations. That's when Dwayne asked about the nature of our relationship. I said you and I got along very well and that I had feelings for you though I hadn't pushed them and I didn't know where you stood. I didn't deny that we had spent personal time together."
Javi again glances at me, as though checking if this is the part that will make me upset. I give a nod of encouragement.
He sighs before continuing. "Dwayne confessed that Blake has had complaints in the past, mostly about being too emotional to work with, but there were some blind items about him being inappropriate on set." That explains why Dwayne was quick to believe I hadn't been involved with him. "But he said that he also doesn't trust him not to leak some blown out of proportion, 'inside scoop,' about the whole thing. Frankly, Dwayne was concerned that anyone who saw my reaction to your fainting might feel that they have insider information. That's when Tom chimed in with the perfect solution," I can tell by his tone, doused in sarcasm, that it is far from perfect.
"Tom said that the PR team can find other ways to handle Blake, and as for the rest of the possible leaks...He said no one would remember a thing if they see me with Emma. Unfortunately Blake's ridiculous allegations against you fit right into production's plans to market the movie. They want to sell some whirlwind romance between Emma and me, especially since I haven't been seen with anyone publicly."
Javi lets the words hang there, allowing me to process. My stomach is in knots, and I'm still lost.
"So what does that mean for...us?" I ask quietly.
That pained expression is back. "I made them promise that they would stop any scandals against you before they happen, just in case there is a leak from anyone on set. In exchange, I agreed to let them sell the idea of Emma and me. They want us to be affectionate these next two weeks, and they're going to take some fake leaked photos of it. I was consulting with Jonah before and after my meeting with Dwayne and Tom, and he asked me not to contact you until we had reached an agreement. Once we had, it was time to fly back home and Jonah said I shouldn't speak with you until you already spoke with Dwayne. I wasn't actually sure if that was today...I just figured he'd ask to meet with you first thing and I...I couldn't wait any longer. I'm sorry."
He again allows me a moment to process it all. It hurts that Emma and him will be getting closer, even if it's just for show. But it also explains why I still have a job. True to what Barb had said, production didn't really care if we were together. However, they did care if it could reflect poorly on the project. In fairness to them, I understood it. But I was a far ways away from feeling okay about it.
Javi is just watching my face, waiting for my response. Despite the pain in my chest at the thought of him holding Emma, he was here now. His eyes full of concern, his hand still resting on my leg. Both our sides pressed up together.
Hesitantly, I cup his face once more. His eyelids flutter closed, almost as if it's out of relief. I sit up on my knees a little, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. Javi sighs, moving the hand on my leg up a little higher, and his free hand to rest on my back, pulling me in closer.
I pull back so our foreheads are pressed together. "You don't need to be sorry, Javi."
His hand moves in soft circles on my back. "If only you knew how badly I wanted to be with you...how badly I wanted to react when Blake said those things—"
"Shh," I run my hand up his chest before resting it on the side of his neck. "I don't want to think about him. Or Emma...I'm not going to deny that part is incredibly irritating." I chuckle lightly, hoping to hide how jealous that makes me feel.
Javi pulls back a little further so he can look directly into my eyes. "I want to be with you, Ava. In every way that matters, I'm with you. I won't be with her like this," He presses another gentle kiss to my lips, "Or like this," his soft lips graze my jaw. "In fact," He kisses just below my ear, whispering now, "I'll be thinking about you the entire time, and how I'd rather be doing this instead," he moves his lips to my neck, open-mouthed and heady. I tilt my head to the side, allowing him more access. My eyes squeeze shut as he explores up and down my neck, my chest rising and falling at an increasingly rapid pace. When his teeth graze a particularly sensitive area near my collarbone, I can't take it any longer. I shift my weight and swing my leg around his torso so that I'm straddling him on the couch. Javi hums in approval, both his hands moving to my thighs. His warm fingers explore under the hem of my shorts, kneading my thighs and my backside appreciatively.
I surprise myself when I tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, angling him to look at me again and halting his barrage of kisses on my throat. I bend down to kiss him, several degrees rougher than before.
"I missed you," I whine against his lips. My hips buck forward instinctively, and I whine once again at the much-needed friction it provides.
He groans against my mouth in turn. "Missed you so much, baby," he kisses me again, teeth pulling on my bottom lip. "You had me worried sick." Javi's hands yank me forward by my thighs, grinding my core down on his lap again. I whimper, feeling how much he's grown underneath me. I feel as though my body has been taken over by pure desire, all shame left somewhere outside this apartment. I rock back and forth shamelessly, keeping Javi's lips locked on my as I hold onto the back of his neck. In the back of my mind, I know that I should do something else. Offer to go to the bed, kiss his neck back, say something he might want to hear. But I can't. I'm a panting mess. And all I can think about is wanting more of him, right now.
I move my hands from his neck to the hem of my shirt, slowing down my hip movements while I take a moment to pull it over my head.
"Christ," Javi hisses, taking in the sight of my hardened nipples. Not a second passes before he takes one of them in his mouth. His left hand moves to my free nipple, rolling and pinching it as his tongue swirls deliciously around the other. I gasp, tossing my head back and resume grinding back and forth on his now bulging lap. I want to take it out and lick him until he's as desperate as I feel right now, but the thought of stopping feels like it would leave me burning so badly that it would be painful. And judging by how his free hand is encouraging my hips, it doesn't seem like he wants me to stop.
It hasn't been long, but I feel a familiar build in my stomach.
"Javi, I'm," I hit the top of his jeans where he is delectably hard, "Ah, I'm going to...if we don't stop I'm gonna–"
Javi hums against my chest. "Get yourself off, sweetheart. The rest of your orgasms tonight will belong to me." He yanks me forward again, and I combust, my legs shaking on either side of him. My breathing stutters, and Javi keeps his steady pace against my chest, though he moves one of his hands to my thighs to coax me through. I slump against him, forcing his lips to leave my breasts. He draws soothing circles along my back as he chuckles.
"Catch your breath, baby. I'm far from done with you."
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Becoming His Queen
Chapter2
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Your POV
He moved positions so he was sitting with his legs crossed and wrists on his knees. He was no longer looking at me but I still felt his stare. The power radiating from him was intoxicating. No wonder people said he was a demon.
He stared intently at the ground like he was in deep thought. He could have been. You'd never know since he didn't say anything.
You walked up to the glass moving past the binding circle. He looked up at you as you placed your hand on the glass.
"I'm so sorry." You whispered "I'm going to get you out."
He cocked his head to the side with a slightly bored look. Of course he'd heard that one before. Many times. From Roderick and Alex and Paul. All saying if he'd do something for them they would free him.
Morpheus POV
Why is she apologizing for this? She didn't put me in here. I cocked my head to the side, she was different. She was very different. I spoke for the first time in nearly a century.
"Ok."I whispered.
She gasped. I guess they had told her I don't talk. Which was true. I didn't. No one deserved conversation with me.
"I thought- but you don't- they- WHAT?!"
I shushed her through the glass putting my fingers on my lips.
"I do not talk to them. Just you. You are...different."
She looked at me confused.
"What do you mean? Different how?"
I rolled my eyes.
"No one has ever apologized for my situation or actually looked like they meant it and wanted to do something about it. There's something about you. Some-"
Footsteps coming down the stairs cut me off. I wasn't about to speak in anyone else's presence. She put her hand on the glass in front of me and nodded.
"What are you doing?!" Paul yelled at her. "You'll let him escape if you touch the glass let alone be on the other side of the circle!"
He tugged you harshly away making my blood boil. How dare he touch you like that.
Your POV
Paul tugged me out of the circle and I could feel Morpheus seething. I wasn't expecting that. I also wasn't expecting to already be so attached to him. I want to keep him safe. Keep Paul and anyone else who wanted to hurt him away. But to do that I had to keep out of the circle while they were there.
"I'm sorry Paul, I was just admiring the architecture or the...cage. It's really quite beautiful."
Paul looked at me a little suspiciously but in the end decided to let it go.
"Alex's father certainly did have an eye for such things didn't he?"
I nodded as I pretended to look at the cage, really I was just watching the poor man in there. I really should get his name. Make sure he's not actually some serial killer.
I am not a serial killer.
I heard in my head. It sounded like him. It couldn't have been him though, could it? My head snapped up and I found him smirking ever so slightly. I guess I'm going to test this out.
So you can read my mind then?
He looked at me kind of shocked before he responded.
Perhaps. We will talk later.
"Well anyway Miss. I'll leave you be. Don't touch the glass."
With those last words Paul walked back up the basement steps. I turned to the man.
"Before we do anything, what's your name?"
"Morpheus. My name is Morpheus."
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mooncherrv · 1 year
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In Your Dreams - Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia
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Character(s): Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x Doctor!Reader Genre: Fluff Summary: Mickey keeps seeing the same person over and over in his dreams but he knows for a fact he has never seen them before. He starts to wonder if it has more meaning than a simple dream. Author's Note: Fanboy my lil meow meow Masterlist
"Hey Bob, can I ask you something?" Fanboy said as he sat down next to Bob in the Hard Deck. "If this is going to be about a Star Wars debate again, then, no. If it's not then maybe." Bob said as he set his drink down. "It's not a Star Wars debate, I promise. I wanted to ask you if you think dreams can mean something." Fanboy laughs remembering going to Bob to settle the debate he had with Coyote over which Skywalker was the best. "Well, I think it depends on what kind of dream it is. Like, those dreams we have where everyone's skin is neon colours? No. Those are just dreams. Why? What kind of dreams are you having?" Bob questioned. "Don't laugh at this, but, I keep seeing this girl in my dreams. I've never seen her in my life but she keeps showing up in my dreams and I'm starting to think it might mean something but I don't know what it could be." Fanboy told the aviator. Bob smiled at him while Fanboy's face showed no other emotions but confusion. "That happened to my mom. She told me the only reason she agreed to date my dad was because she had seen him constantly in her dreams while she was growing up. They never met until college but once he asked her out she knew those dreams happened for a reason. Perhaps this dream girl is your soul mate and you'll meet her soon." Bob explained.
The dream conversation happened a few months ago yet it never left Fanboy's mind, and the girl continued to show up in his dreams. He was still very confused by everything and after about 6 months of the dreams occurring he convinced himself it meant nothing at all and Bob's story about his parents was merely a coincidence. That was until he ended up in the hospital and having her standing right in front of him. "How do you feel Mr. Garcia?" she asked as she looked up from her clipboard. "You can just call me Mickey but I feel fine. Nothing really feels out of the usual." he responded. "That's good to hear. Nothing looked concerning on your tests so you should be ok to go back to work tomorrow. Just try to take it easy, Mickey. If anything changes though come back and we'll see if we missed anything."
The following day Fanboy remained distracted, so much so that the rest of the crew began to notice how out of it he was. Normally he'd walk into work and strike up a conversation with Bob about some sci-fi show the two watched or he's once again try to convince Hangman that he should watch Star Trek (Which Hangman did in fact watch in his free time but would never let Fanboy have the pleasure of knowing.) Instead he simply sat at his desk filling out paperwork in silence. The entire day he barely spoke, constantly lost in his own thoughts. The other passed it off as him being tired considering he had an incident during training which landed him in the hospital the other day. The first person he spoke to that day was Bob, who was pleased to see his younger friend talk as he began to worry something had gone wrong. "Remember those dreams I told you about?" The younger boy asked. Bob's head tilted as he thought about the many conversations the two had. "The weird goo monsters dream or the recurring dreams about a girl?" He asked. "Bob, this is not the time for jokes. Yes, the dreams about a girl. I saw her yesterday. Like, saw her in person. I spoke to her and I know her name and she spoke back." Fanboy said, worry showing in his voice. "Shouldn't that be a good thing? You know she is real and now you can hopefully see her again." Bob smiled. "She was the doctor that assessed me. I doubt I would see her unless I was back at the hospital. Even then, it looked like she doesn't usually work in the ER, she had a teddy bear nametag and bright rainbow sneakers on." he responded it defeat. "Well obviously you just need to get a kid then and take them in for a checkup with your dream girl." Bob joked, earning a glare from Fanboy. "Jokes aside, if you keep seeing her in dreams and she really is supposed to be in your life you will see her again. Just wait for things to work themself out on their own." Bob told him. The issue with Bob's advice was that Mickey felt like he couldn't wait to see her again. So, despite all his morals he was raised with and how stupid it seemed, he faked injuries and specifically requested one specific doctor to see him.
"Mickey, this is the 5th time I have seen you this month." she said as she walked into the room. He had to admit this felt like a really low point in his life, faking injuries just to see a girl. "I fell and hit my arm on a crate at work. I think I might have dislocated my arm." Mickey says as he gives her a small smile. Rather than checking his arm she just sat in the chair in front of him and looked at him. "The last 4 times you showed up the alleged injuries you suffered were not there at all. I figured maybe it was just phantom pains from your incident the first time you came in but after the 4th visit it began to seen like you just enjoy hanging around in the emergency room. So, Michael Garcia, why do you keep coming into the ER and specifically requesting to be seen by a doctor that works in the pediatrics ward?" she asked. Mickey sighed in defeat before he spoke. "This might sound stupid, but, I kept seeing you in my dreams months before I had my first ER visit. After the first visit I could not stop thinking about you and I didn't know another way to see you again." The two sat in silence for a moment after he admitted that to her. The silence was broken when she let out a soft laugh and looked up and smiled at him. "I've also seen you in my dreams. I was surprised when I saw you the first time but I figured it happened for a reason since I usually don't work in the ER but I was covering a friend's shift since she was sick." she said. Mickey looked at her with a shocked expression. "I must admit though, you could have just came back to talk to me regularly. I admire your efforts though, it's sweet." she spoke once again. "So what does that mean now? Am I allowed to ask you out on a date then, doctor?" Mickey asked. "Technically, no. I think it might break patient and doctor rules, but, if you just so happened to run into me at the Hard Deck at" she paused to look down at her watch "maybe 8pm today I would no longer be on the clock." she smiled before standing up. "It was nice seeing you again, Mickey. Hopefully next time I see you it won't be for an alleged injury."
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almost-a-class-act · 10 months
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Many happy returns to the George Luz of the group chat! I wrote some Liebgott/Luz wound care for @georgelust which is frankly a galaxy-brained pairing that I don't think I've written before. Here we go!
--
Carentan seems like the kind of place people might come on vacation, when it’s not being shelled within an inch of its life. Joe has never been on vacation, but he assumes that people enjoy charming seaside villages, if they have a pile of money that they are not currently spending on the silly necessaries of being alive.
Though it might, he thinks, as the wall of a nearby building erupts with a terrific roar, not be a vacation destination for a little while after this.
He ducks behind a pile of debris, what remains of a garden wall, maybe, and is just in time to see what happens next play out right in front of him, perfectly centered, like a film. Joe knows everyone in the company, of course, at least in passing, but there are some figures that he picks out in a crowd at once, keeps an eye on in his periphery even when it’s not his job. He zeroes in just as George steps out from around a corner and a shell craters into a storefront, spraying glass all over the street.
(George, who had clocked Joe all the way back at Toccoa, had made his interest clear but let Joe come to him.) (George, who might be overly friendly with more people than Joe is comfortable with but Joe is not about to admit that he’s jealous, because jealousy has implications.) (George, who had clocked that jealousy too and very gently suggested that it was up to Joe if he wanted any kind of exclusivity, to which Joe had responded in exactly the way you might expect – by getting in his own way, as fucking usual. It’s not like that between us. It’s not that serious.)
George takes a hail of that shattering glass in the face, only belatedly throwing his arm up, and as he stumbles backward, another shell takes out the upper floor of the same building, sending a rattle through the ground so forceful that George loses his balance and goes down. Heart hammering, Joe has the presence of mind to shout for covering fire before he takes off, another explosion rocking the street as he grabs George by his uniform and drags him upright, helps him stumble into the relative safety of a narrow alleyway.
As soon as he’s able, Joe slings his rifle over his shoulder and adjusts his grip, one hand fisted in the front of George’s jacket and the other around his arm. “Come on, sit down,” he says, his voice low and calm, and George obeys, the radio knocking against the wall as he lowers himself to the ground with Joe’s help. His face is a mask of blood. It makes Joe’s heart turn over to look at it.
He briskly crouches down and takes George’s face in his hands, fingertips on his jaw, trying to carefully wipe away blood without snagging any of the broken glass so he can see how bad it is.
“Careful,” George murmurs, his voice as steady as Joe’s had been a moment before, for all the world like he didn’t just walk into an explosion. “People might think you’re serious about me.”
“Shut up.” Joe’s hands are gentler than his words as he tips George’s chin up and rubs his thumb across his left eyelid, sweeping away a pool of blood that seems to not be originating in his eye, but above it. “Open your eyes,” he says. “Look at me.”
George blinks his eyes open, red and watery but clear, and Joe feels something unwind a little in his shoulders.
“How are my leading man prospects?” George asks, wincing only slightly as Joe goes right back to work, using the edge of his sleeve to clean around a small wedge of glass before he briskly tugs it free from George’s eyebrow.
“Don’t they say ladies love a scar?” Joe is only half-focused on the conversation, aware of George watching him as he concentrates on removing what he can, the bigger shards that are making him bleed so alarmingly into his eyes.
“Oh good,” says George. “My target demographic.”
Joe snorts despite himself, fumbling in his medical kit for a bandage. The ground shakes again, but a little further away this time, and he leans up and over George to protect him as he takes his helmet off and hands it to him so that he can wrap the bandage around his head with careful hands. The cuts on the lower part of his face are superficial, at least, and Joe doesn’t think they’ll scar, though he’s far from an expert.
“Thanks,” George says, as Joe tucks in the edge of the bandage, securing it.
“Go see Doc when this is over,” Joe replies, taking George’s helmet out of his hands and placing it very gently back onto his head, ignoring George’s open amusement and fondness over the way Joe is fussing over him. “I don’t know if you need stitches or not. Out of my pay grade.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” George says.
Joe leans in, hard-eyed. “See a medic. Don’t argue with me.”
“Alright, Joe,” George says, taking the joke out of it – the way he is perfectly capable of doing, if he wants to; if he sees the value in it. “I got it. I’ll see a medic.”
Joe maintains eye contact for a moment longer, impressing upon him the seriousness of actually doing what Joe told him to do, and then climbs to his feet, reaching out for George’s hand to pull him up, too. George gives his hand a hard squeeze before he lets go. Joe doesn’t respond in kind or immediately say anything, and George, though still with that easy friendliness in his bearing with which everyone is so familiar, seems to retreat, to give up in a way that Joe doesn’t like.
“I gotta go,” George says. “See you around, Joe.”
“Hey.” Joe says it when George is a handful of feet away, where the alleyway opens into the street. George turns, and Joe meets his gaze. “I’ll come see you later. If, uh. If you want.”
George’s smile is faint but there is that twinkle in it that makes Joe a little crazy sometimes – like he thinks Joe is being funny without meaning to. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “Come see me. I’ll be around.”
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bastetwastaken · 4 months
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Thanks for replying back to my message~ I do prefer private massages a bit more to start though I'm not opposed to sharing with people and collaborating things ⭐
Just to give perspective, I'm okay face to face in person with people but online I get a bit (sometimes a lotta bit) nervous, partly cause the delay time between messages can give my head time to tear apart words and color things in shades of worries.
The other issue, I have exactly 0 Puzzleshipping friends and I've not been an active part of a group for a fandom by myself ether which adds pressure, especially with those who's work I admire and really wish I could connect with. Sometimes I feel like I'm outside of group dynamics and get really self conscious but I don't want to cause someone to feel like they -have- to do something.
I used to just hang around a close friend and follow them though whatever they were into but that was years ago and I also went through some life changes. Now I'd like to be part of a community that aligns with my interests and not just stuck in my corner hoping for "some day". I came back to my very first ship here and have been delighted to see how it's evolved~ ❤️💜✨ but I also have still been in that corner, despite trying to comment. It might just me me tho, I've always been by myself in fandoms : /
It's a different kind of feeling to be inside of and participate rather than be impersonally idling and spectating as I have before. You can get sad and disheartened when you repeatedly try and feel like you can't reach ppl and yet see how easily others seem to do it. It can feel like there's something wrong with you even though you know ppl are different and things take time, but that want grows hungry when care catches and latches and can eat you instead.
I just wanted someone to understand the page that I'm on, to know why I might be awkward or missing somethings and need a gentle hand til I grow in those flight feathers, NEEDS EXP PLZ HELP LVL UP 🐦 I want to contribute worthwhile things to whether it's conversing or finally popping out art so I'll keep working attit and I appreciate you being here 🤍🌿
I hope I can give encouragement to you too~ we all need a little kindness and connection, you can come to me too if you need things🌿 You mentioned experiencing a bout of loneliness, I wouldn't mind listening, I like knowing what's going on and we have our rain and shine 🤍🤍 I'm gonna quietly hit up your inbox unless you want to communicate another way = )
I know people use discord, I've seen it but I've never been invited to use it soooo, idk entirely what to do there, you'd have to baby me on that (and I won't always be this long =P)
But thanks again for taking time with me 🌌
We can talk privately friend, that's not an issue ^.^ Feel free to slide into my dms any time!
I understand how you feel, online can be harder than irl because you don't have visual confirmation that the person is free to talk right that second, tone can be lost through just text and timezones, man, timezones. I'm in the UK, so I'm currently on GMT and at the time of responding it's 10:35am. I get you, I have friends in America who are five hours behind me, friends in Europe an hour ahead and a friend in Australia who's just plain living in the future. So finding time to talk can be hard, but we make it work ^^
I think the most important thing is to just keep those time differences in mind, and once you get to know someone better you'll likely realise patterns in when they're around, when they respond faster and when they might be sleeping. It's all a learning experience ^^
I can introduce you to a puzzleshipping server on discord full of lovely people if you like. It's a big server, I won't lie sometimes I get overwhelmed by how big it is, but you can sit quietly in there and just see what people are saying or you can be more active, there's no obligation either way. I know that sometimes we all just need someone to take us to those places where likeminded people are, and just hold our hand a little. We'll sort it in dms <3
My friend, I understand exactly how you feel and you're very much not alone. You're doing something amazing talking about how you feel because that shit is hard. So fucking hard, but look at you, doing it anyway. I've tried to interact with other people, sometimes those interactions just don't go the way I'd like. I've been ignored, talked over and made to feel like I don't belong and believe me when I say that we're not the only ones. It's easy to let those interactions prevent you from trying again, but you're trying again right now and I hope that this time it'll be different for you.
In regards to your other ask- Loneliness can be felt whether you're surrounded by people or not. You could have 100 friends and still feel lonely. You could get 1000's of likes on a post and still feel lonely. Loneliness is not exclusive to any particular set of circumstances, so you're not being ungrateful, you're being honest in how you feel and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
I'll wait for your message <3 <3
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notfoundmidi · 4 months
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Introducing me :3
My name is Melody but you might call me Midi, Meli or Aura. I'm an agender, aromantic acespike, polyam, bi lesbian from Chile, that spends a lot of time online mainly on Insta, Tumblr, Bsky and formerly on Twitter.
I use she or he pronouns, feel free to call me soft gendered terms too (girl, boy, dude, lady, etc).
Things you should know about me:
I'm a medically diagnosed AuDD and self-diagnosed BPD haver, I'm mostly fine nowadays but I still have to deal with being obsessive over people and splittings over small things, have that in mind when interacting with me
You might ask, DM, or interact with me, though I'm not accepting of sexual advances so please don't be a weirdo. I usually follow back if you're queer
I might infodump and over talk a lot, not as a warning but a threat. I try to keep conversations going, ask back and stuff, but I still have a social disability so sorry in advance if I fail to answer to vague messages or take my time to respond
I reblog lewd or nsft stuff sometimes, you might want to block the next tag #midi nsft
Also have a sideblog where I mostly reblog lewd stuff, I might post some things myself unfrequently @forbiddenmidi
I like:
Special interests: Time travel, minecraft, mushrooms, computer stuff, coffee making
Cats and other felines
Cooking, food, pastas, asian food
Night time, cloudy or rainy days
Being kissed dumb
Girls, women, femmes, butches, transfems, gnc trans people, nonbinary nerds, fat people, visibly queer people
Did I mention coffee?? Like seriously I could rant about my setup all da—
Do not interact:
You know who you are
Daleks, cybermen and other kinds of fascists
Idk, might add some more later
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