#also tag your shit correctly so you don't ruin things for others

[leopardmuffinxo]

with Baldur’s Gate 3 being less than a month from launch, this is a reminder that i tag spoilers as #bg3 spoilers and #baldur’s gate 3 spoilers, so please feel free to blacklist them if you don’t want anything spoiled for you. i already have people talking about things being spoiled in recent posts, but they were tagged as such. not everything i post will be spoilers, but i do my best to tag those that are.

[listentoace]

Hey, I wanted to address a couple of things.

I have been receiving several asks regarding some of my recent posts. I admit they are darker than the usual stuff. That was a decision I consciously made, because I do tend to have darker fantasies and wanted to see how they would be received. I consider most of the criticism I received to be valid points. Here are a few of them:

The whole idea of "ruining yourself"/"ruining your body" as you're gaining weight can be found fatphobic

Connecting feederism to habitual behavior, addiction, loss of control, and even brain damage can be found scary or even disturbing

Encouraging people to embrace health issues (both physical and mental) because of feederism can be found toxic

Constantly connecting feederism and weight gain with the negative side effects (sluggishness and laziness, health issues, societal judgement, etc.) can lead to the conclusion that feederism, obesity, indulgence, etc. are generally bad things

I won't try to defend myself. In fact, I completely agree with (most) criticism I received. The only kind of "criticism" I don't recognize are attacks toward me personally, but that's just reflected in a minority of the asks I receive. To all people who have sent me asks: it's great that you're sharing your opinion and thoughts, and I encourage you to keep doing so!

I think it is necessary to mention again that I don't mean anyone any harm. I am not fatphobic, and I do not mean to force any kinks upon anyone. This is just me writing and recording some horny ideas I occasionally have for those people who are into the same stuff. It is also very important to mention that in many cases, the fantasy of something can be very hot, while the reality of it could be very stressful and traumatizing. This is especially the case with more intense fantasies and kinks, e.g., being kidnapped and fattened. Everything I write takes place in "fantasy land". Nothing I post is meant as a threat, actual encouragement for dangerous behavior or self harm, or other harmful behavior. Pleae keep this in mind!

Getting back to the criticism: Yes, I like the dark stuff. I am very intrigued by the idea of feedees getting fatter for pleasure, despite all the negative consequences that can come with weight gain and obesity. I also enjoy calling people out for it, both with mild teasing and with very direct "you're damaging yourself" claims. I know that this is not everybody's cup of tea, which is why I already tag all posts with darker topics related to self-destruction, severe health issues, permanent damage and even death with "#death feederism" and "#death feedist". This is also mentioned in my pinned info post under "My Content", encouraging people to hide these tags who are not into certain content I post. However, it is quite clear that this isn't a great solution – otherwise I would not be receiving these asks.

I am very open to solving this issue together. After all, it always has been my personal ambition to write and record content for your enjoyment and pleasure. I want to make you – the readers and listeners – feel good and excited. I don't mean to scare or disturb you with my darker fantasies and kinks that don't appeal to you. Nonetheless, I do enjoy causing "holy shit, this is really bad, but it just feels so good!" pleasure and horniness.

In the past, I occasionally made use of trigger warnings at the top of my posts. If I recall correctly, I did hide the main content behind the "Keep reading" button. This was not consistent, but I am open to generally implementing this for all future posts that include sensitive subjects, such as death feederism, consensual non-consent, heavy conditioning and brain damage, or severe degradation and objectification.

However, before I do that, I first wanted to recognize the asks I received and open the conversation by addressing these issues. I encourage you to share your thoughts on this with me in the comments, asks, or my dms. Please let me know whether you think the combination of a trigger warning and a "Keep reading" button is sufficient and reasonable. I will still be tagging my posts accordingly, like I've done in the past, so filtering through hiding certain hashtags will remain an option either way.

I'm looking forward to your feedback and ideas, thank you for the criticism! :)

[zeciex]

If you don't desire to answer this ask for whatever reason please do ignore it! I won't mind!

So I've been reading some of your asks from other people regarding Alys and a future, possible cheating storyline and, while I'm relieved that it will all be an illusion and Aemond won't cheat on Daenera, I have to wonder if there will be an affair on her side with somebody else as revenge and a way to get back at Aemond for his affair with Alys? Obviously we as readers will know he will be innocent but Daenera won't (at least for a while) and I fear she may choose do to that just to get even with him.

Some other fics that used similar tropes in the past (miscommunications or misunderstandings that led the main OFC to believe Aemond cheated on her) went immediately afterwards with the retributive affair thing and I believe it kinda ruined the whole thing considering most of them still had the main couple as endgame together with a happy ending, which, frankly, seems rather forced since I don't think anyone, man or woman, should just forgive their partner for cheating on them...just no, please. Also, cheating as revenge on your loved one because you believe they betrayed you and were the first one to cheat only for later to find out they were innocent the whole time…well, I don't see how a relationship can recover from this honestly. Same goes for when both end up actually cheating and then they make up because "true love conquers all" I guess??

Not to mention that as a reader there's nothing worse than investing a lot of your time reading a long fic and rooting for the main couple (even if it ends in tragedy) only for a cheating plotline to be introduced solely for angst and drama…Of course authors don't owe readers anything and it's our own fault and problem if we start a fic that features cheating and has been correctly tagged, but there have also been cases in which some authors refused to tag it and if they did they only did so after being called out (and still tagged it as "justified affair" or things like that) or if they refused to do so they argued that it's not technically cheating and usually they explain how the character who cheats doesn't consider themselves to still be together with their loved one for it to count as cheating or other convoluted explanations. Like, just say your character cheated and be done with it.

And by the way I'm aware I'm a bit hypocritical with this since Daenera did actually cheat on her husband with Aemond BUT I can't bring myself to care considering it was a arranged marriage with an abusive husband. In cases like this I'm supportive of anyone who wants to have an actual choice in their life and find some love with somebody else. However, when two characters have clearly been established as each other's true love, well, I don't think, no matter how justified the reason behind the cheating seems to be, the relationship can recover from it.

While Daenera is 100% a petty bitch, I don't see her having an affair with someone else because she thinks Aemond is cheating. The only reason she ever had an affair in the first place (with Aemond) was because she didn't want her marriage, didn't find satisfaction in it, and because she's subconsciously in love with Aemond. Is she hypocritical? Yes. But would she cheat on someone she love/respect, even if she thinks he cheats on her? No.

On AO3 I wrote in the tags that cheating happens in the fic, but only cheating WITH Aemond. And regarding Alys, there will be no cheating.

Aemond will not cheat on Daenera, but there will be the illusion for it because of Alys (and drama/angst, I'm a slut for that, okay?)

And Daenera will not get revenge by cheating on Aemond. At that point, she's going through some shit. Even if she wasn't going through shit, she'd be more likely to literally KILL Aemond/Alys, or set up some elaborate scheme that will ruin the moth.

Daenera is going to be so fucking pissed, and she since she's going through some shit, she'll be inclined for murder and havoc. I call it her 'bloody bitch-era'.

I'm not into the whole cheating thing either, I don't see it as something a relationship can really recover from (I say as if Aemond doesn't literally murder her brother). lol murder is one thing, but cheating is another level of betrayal. Nah, I'm not with it.

[sizhui]

Honestly i do see your point with the post about fanfiction, but on the other hand having been in fandom spaces since very young (probably too young to be honest) I've just come to absolutely distrust fanfic writers (especially on ao3 because well. I'm sure you're well aware of the culture on that site) because on multiple occasions i have been hit by random unexpected graphic (very clearly fetishistic) depictions of abuse in works that seemed pretty solid otherwise based on the summary alone; incest fans are especially egregious for including that aspect with no warning whatsoever in what seems like an otherwise interesting story about two brothers from the summary alone, so like... as much as i agree that we don't need to tag every single generally harmless detail of a story because it significantly dumbs it down and ruins the experience it's also true that whenever i have branched out and tried reading stories that seemed interesting from the summary alone and had a minimal amount of tags i ended up getting bitten by one of my biggest triggers so i feel like... i might as well just read actual published literature (which i do regularly for fun and for school) when seeking something more challenging and with unexpected elements since the culture around fanfiction is just too rancid for me to trust fic writers to tag the appropriate amount and not just deliberately hide "problematic" (=abuse fetish) elements to jumpscare people for fun. So it's like yeah you have a point but it's a bit of a conundrum since a lot of fic writers aren't actually into this to say anything constructive. I'm sorry if it's worded badly English isn't my first language and my tone sometimes doesn't come off great through text so I'm not accusing you of anything or being confrontational. Anyway i hope you have a good day o7

I get you honestly, but I purposefully didn't touch upon the toxic, abusive CULTURE around fanfic and ao3 which actively protects harmful fetishizers and real abusers too - because that's a whole other very serious conversation to be had. My post sought to discuss fanfic purely as a type of watered-down, half-premade story and how it affects the way readers interact with original fiction. I did not discuss the huge problems with illegal content being hosted on fanfic sites because to do that i would have to sit down and write for a long time with utmost concentration, which I have neither time nor will for rn.

I will however say that if my post came off as "keep reading solely fanfic, just without tags, to chaenge yourself" then i failed to express myself correctly. I absolutely meant to convey that the primary focus of every reader should be published original fiction and nonfiction, because the things you can get out of them you won't find in any fic, since the fic culture and system is already established and truthfully a 3 note post will never affect it.

However, though I too havr major triggers, I am not averse to the practice of writing fanfic. I firmly believe that there are just as many perverse individuals among writers of original stories as there are among fanfic writers - abuse fetishism isn't unique to people who write about cartoons, they just got themselves a huge website where they can publish their works for free and expose an audience to it, so the problem gapes open and very obvious. However, there are thousands of people who use writing as outlets for their sick sexual fantasies who have never touched fandom spaces - it's just that you'll more rarely stumble upon their works because it's not as easy to publish them professionally (though look at shit like a song of ice and fire... i find it just as distasteful as some third grade torture porn fic) in conclusion, I don't really think that fandom spaces breed weirdos, i think they just give them an outlet and a spotlight. I may be biased because i've been into writing character studies and alternate endings to stories i liked since i was young, i just dont elevate those so much and call them proper literature and hide behind them like annoying ao3 aunties do.

[superconductivebean]

#1235: about confessions

I'm 26. I might seem young and inexperienced fandom-wise. Except I grew up on FailedFandomAnon-esque anon forums, remember LJ fandoms, Diary.ru and LI, Fandom Kombat, and I check in with the FFA-alikes on the regular basis to this day.

I'm also a native Russian speaker, and my fandom experience mainly includes Russian-speaking fandoms, as exemplified above. All these aren't English-speaking hellscapes. But with English-speaking ones, there are certainly overlaps and all, but what different is…

It feels like English-speaking fandoms, en masse, have never tried true anonymity, even in the noughties? With exceptions for dumpster fires such as 4chаn or kiwifаrms. Hence why, perhaps, people around here aren't keen on trying to converse anonymously: If you associate anonymity with hatespeach, I can't judge you. I hate when it's used by coward arseholes unable to stand ass up as proudly and eagerly as they do from under anon. I'm on par with Russian-speaking fandoms in our collective disdain for these hateful rats.

Which implies, that yes, our anon spaces have moderation, but it's not persona-based. We don't have names on there. It's linguistics-based. Too rude? Poshol nahui, banned. Too shit-mouthed? It isn't 2ch, get out. Policing everyone in the thread? Do that in your own, personal diary, please. Trying to recruit an anon army to raid someone's comments? Poshol nahui, we're not your faithful summons, pray we don't guess who you are, asshat. And so on.

There, we are discussing fandom matters and its history sometimes, we needn't personalities to do that; we can be bashful and rude of course, but we are met with the same attitudes and are often asked to tone the fuck down if we'd like to continue (otherwise people will leave; anonymity doesn't and shouldn't mean Be Rude Be Phobic Be A Menace Just To Tell Those Libs11!!1, it's meant for speaking without prejudice and bias associated with our names, whatever these biases might be down to a single anon (I've seen it all peapals; some people won't talk to you if you like a certain character but will if you wear an anon mask; yes I'm aware of the comedy, it's everyone and mine favourite genre, and gets us every time)).*

On the confession blogs, usually if not always, you'd get exploded arses and wrecked friendships rather than addressing any issues or talking them through and getting corrected in your assumptions (or caught on telling lies and wishful thinking). Like, a confession isn't even about a conversation or problem solving of any kind.

It's all about venting. Venting doesn't get you anywhere other than… letting it off your chest, really. Any psychologist will tell you that. And will follow up with a suggestion to start working on your problems instead of endlessly complaining about things. Your vents will create more problems and will solve none except maybe make you feel better for a short second—at everyone's expense.

Maybe don't do that if you want to have fruitful and respectful conversations about stuff around here that bothers you—or any fandom therein, socmed-wise.

Anyway, my point is, anonymity—if handled correctly, it is possible— is an one way to talk through points of contention people have with stuff around the fandom. Another would be just…

Post about your hardships in the tag? Do the We Need To Talk thing? People will understand. That they might disagree, well. What are your priorities? To talk things through and probably agree to disagree, or getting pent up and potentially ruin everything by words too sharp?

*As you can also imagine, hateful peapol may overtake threads, still. Sometimes they do. The thread can die but can also be revived by knight anons who will fight these demons away. Or if when the new anons will discover the thread and evict the pests. You got the idea. Also. Anonymity allows to discuss gardening in shameless details. There is hardly anything funnier that being called Soup Cactus Anon. Or addressing the local pest as the Black Mold. In such a place, there's obviously a thread about some anons that piss everyone off. This is the local newspaper. Then there is that fucking hellhole, 'Fandom Grievances'. Deranged crappot, I hate it; '12 Things You HATE About Fandoms' is less toxic, people have polite talks there, can you imagine.

[f4irycafe]

too late

summary: as the youngest son in an abuse-stricken family, eren is under mounds of pressure to break the generational curse of violence that plagues the men in his family. this is his first test.

pairing: eren x reader

warnings: dark content, graphic depictions of domestic abuse, child abuse, choking (eren chokes reader), toxic relationship (kinda, erens an asshole), cursing, hurt/comfort.

word count: 3.1k

song inspiration: too late by zamir

notes: let it be known that the choking is NOT in a smutty way. so when it comes up don't yell @ me cause i'm warning you right now. i heard this song and immediately thought about eren. i know grisha didn't physically abuse carla but i hate that man so damn much. so none of this is canon. also i’m not 100% sure i tagged this correctly, if there’s anything i should change please send me an ask so i can fix it. :)

PLEASE REBLOG

it had been variations of the same fight every day for weeks now. you and eren had spent so much time together at your separate apartments, so you had decided to move in together. in theory it sounded nice. being able to come home to your boyfriend after a long day of university, cuddle into his arms, make dinner together, then do the same thing the next day. in practice ... it wasn't so black and white.

this was the third time this week you had walked in the door to a dirty house. dishes from breakfast, towels dropped on the floor of the bathroom ruining the hardwood, dust coating the tops of every surface. because of the monthly allowance eren got from his father and his fully paid tuition, he saw no need to join clubs, get a job, or do anything that wasn't required of him. he went to class, basketball practice after that, then came home. while you on the other hand had school, the clubs you managed, and work, all just to keep your full ride scholarship.

you knew that you and eren came from different worlds financially, but after you moved in with him those differences became alarmingly clear.

you couldn't help but sigh when you saw all the lights turned on, and the heaters cranked, knowing that the money would be coming out of your paycheck. you threw your back and jacket in the middle of the hall before you stormed through the place.

"eren, where the fuck are you!" you yelled. you checked the living room before going upstairs to your shared bedroom. the only other place he could be was his gameroom. he had claimed it as his man cave the day you moved in, wasting no time in setting up the space how he liked it.

"eren!" you banged on his door a few times then waited. no answer. you called his name again. nothing. you swung the door open, not bothering to knock. he was completely plugged in, headphones on as he screamed at his monitor.

"take this shit off," you muttered as you grabbed his headset, throwing it to the side. his green eyes snapped to yours in a look of bewilderment, his hands coming up to his sides.

"what the fuck is wrong with you. do you know how much those cost?"

"why are the dishes still in the sink?" you asked. he didn't bother to get up, instead deciding to look at you in a way that made your skin crawl.

"what? he asked slowly, like he couldn't quite believe what you were saying.

"i left at seven this morning. your classes got out at 4 and you didn't have practice today. it is now nine pm," you said as you checked the clock on his computer, "so why the fuck are the dishes not done."

eren was still. your breaths came out ragged as you stared at him, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"hello?!" you said when he still hadn't answered you.

"i was busy." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "jean came over, he just left a little while ago."

"you've been here all day eren! i haven't even had the chance to eat dinner yet and-"

"then go eat it," he said as he cut you off.

"then go eat your fucking dinner and clean the kitchen. i don't understand why you're up here bitching to me about it. you could have already started by now if you weren't wasting your time yelling at me."

you wanted to scream. he just wasn't getting it. your relationship was so nice before you had made the decision to live together. he'd show up to your place with takeout and that sweet sweet smile on his face, ready to stay in and massage your feet if that was what you asked of him. now? the last time you had sex was in those first days you have moved in together.

sometimes you got home early to clean the house yourself, but once, just once you wished he would take the inicitive and do it himself.

"so you couldn't have cleaned before jean came over? maybe during?" when eren rolled his eyes and reached for his headset you saw red. you stomped over to the other side of his chair and kicked the damn thing out of his reach before he could grab it.

that was enough to get his attention.

"you wanna do this right now?" he asked as he stood up, shoving the chair behind him so hard it hit his table with an alarming 'crack'.

"you don't do shit, eren! you sit around on your ass all day playing video games and hanging out with your friends. i do everything! every fucking thing. i clean, i sweep, i cook, hell when we have sex you don't even eat me out anymore. i thought that maybe, just maybe you would help me today, you know cleaning the dishes and maybe making dinner."

erens mind was reeling as you yelled at him. deep down, he knew you were right. he knew he was being an asshole and forcing you to do all the labor. but fuck, he didn't know how else to be. it hurt, to have all his shortcomings thrown in his face by the woman he loved most in the world.

"but god forbid that get in the way of you hanging out with jean. jesus fucking christ. i'm the one taking the most credits, i'm the one who works for five fucking hours every other day. me eren. that shit is all fucking me! if i had known you were gonna be this god damn useless i would have never moved in with you."

oh that did it.

"then leave huh? leave if this is so fucking shitty for you." what the fuck was he saying. he didn't mean this. he didn't want you to leave.

"don't push your fucking problems onto me. you don't have to be president of all those little clubs your in, you don't have to work insane fucking hours all the time. i didn't force you to do that shit. if having a clean kitchen is such a big problem then maybe you need to rearange some things in your schedule."

"fuck you, you worthless, spineless piece of shit." you spat with every ounce of venom in your body.

worthless.

pathetic.

unworthy.

worthless.

worthless.

worthless.

one second the both of you were standing in the middle of the room yelling at each other. the next he had you shoved against the wall, his left hand forcing your airway closed as the other punched through the wall.

"shut up." he yelled, spit flying in your face as he accentuated his words with the pounding of his fist on the wall.

"shut the fuck up!" when he opened his eyes it wasn't your face that he saw, it was his fathers. with another blink he saw zeke.

then his mother.

he drew in a sharp breath, as he stared back at his moms face. she had a black eye and a nasty bruise was forming on her cheek. she looked so sad, so scared as she looked back at him.

he remembered that day so clearly.

knocking himself out of his trance he saw you again, saw you sob as you clawed at his wrist. he let you go in an instant, tears immediately flooding his eyes as he realized what he had just done.

"oh god." he muttered. his breathing quicker, his heartrate even more so. he didn't let either of you get another word in before he was sprinting out of the room and down the stairs. you called after him but he couldn't hear you, his mind too far away to register anything other than the car engine revving to life as he drove away from you.

he drove until he stopped crying, which was a while. when he did park he had no idea where he was. all he knew was that he was far enough away from you, right where he should be.

worthless.

pathetic.

he was eight years old the first time he saw his father hit his mother. he had come home from school waving his new report card in his chubby little hands, excited to show his parents his good marks and brag about how his friend armin had helped him.

he heard the fighting before he saw it, instantly dampening his good mood. he slipped his backpack onto the living room floor as he wandered through his house towards the sounds.

"don't embarrass me like that ever again. do you understand me?" he heard his father voice say. it was angry. mean in a way he had never heard before. the loud sound of smack echoed through the house next, causing eren to burst into his parents room.

his mother was huddled on the floor, the force of the below grisha had dealt her sending her to the ground.

"mommy?" he asked, shaking her as she lay on the ground. when she didn't respond he turned to his dad, fat, angry tears beginning to roll down his face.

"don't hit mommy! that's mean! we don't hit people!" he said, repeating what he had heard his teachers say whenever he got into fights on the playground.

"out of my way boy."

eren didn't listen. instead choosing to run at his father, his little fists pounding at his thighs.

eren didn't even think that he could be hit next. but there he was, curled up in his mothers side as he screamed in pain from the smack grisha had delt him on his face.

"get out of my sight, both of you." carla picked eren off of the ground, letting him cry into her shoulder as she exited the room.

"fucking pathetic," grisha muttered as they left. eren heard it, heard the way his fathers' voice was laced with such deep-rooted disappointment.

that was the first time he ever watched his mother get hit. in the early days, he often tried to intervene. he always ended up getting beat as well, until he just stopped trying to help his mother. he learned that if acted like he wasn't aware, grisha wouldn't lay a hand on him.

and that was how it went.

he heard his mother crying herself to sleep most nights, and would often see her sitting silently in the kitchen as she drank. they had used to be so close when he was a kid, but when he began to ignore the abuse and hide behind his feigned ignorance, something vital snapped in their relationship.

the nail in the coffin was when carla found out about zekes affair. it was before eren had been born, and resulted in the birth of his older brother zeke.

his mom hadn't smiled in years. hadn't had a reason to, and eren was content to let it be that way. he had gained favor with his father the older he had gotten, been trained, and poised to take over his family's company alongside zeke when he was old enough.

he didn't say anything when zekes wife started to have the same lifeless look his mom had, or when dina, zekes mother, started to look that way as well.

he stopped getting into needless fights at school, became placid and valuable in every aspect of his life. he had been beaten into submission by grisha, and had stayed that way for a very, very long time.

when he met you, he had sworn to never become like the men in his family. he was soft spoken, kind, charitable, generous, everything his father wasn't. it wasn't even as if he was trying to be those things, he just was. the boy who was beaten and tossed to the side flourished with you. you gave him a chance to reconnect with his inner child. you allowed him to be romantic, to love you and not shy away from the love you gave him in return.

he don't know what had happened, how he had become so sour in the past month. but calling him worthless, reminding him of the cowardly boy he was deep down hurt something inside of him. something that he had tried to ignore for the past fourteen years of his life.

-

you locked yourself in your room the second he left, crying to yourself as you curled into a ball on the floor. never in your life would you have ever thought he would get physical with you. your brain was too scrambled to think through it straight.

it scared you, the way his eyes blazed with such fury as he came at you. you would never be able to forget the way his hand felt on your throat, of the wind that brushed yourself because of the speed at which he was breaking the wall.

but above all else, you would never be able to unsee the scared, helpless look in his eyes when he looked back up at you.

you waited for him to come home for hours, scrambling to the windows anytime you heard a car go down the street. you cleaned anxiously while you waited, doing the dishes you had screamed at him about hours earlier. eventually you fell asleep, too emotionally and physically drained from crying and worrying that your body shut down on its own accord.

-

eren crept back into your apartment in the early hours of the morning when he knew you would be sleeping. he wasn't sure he'd be able to face you just yet. his first impulse was to go into the kitchen and clean the mess he had neglected to clean the past weeks, only to find the entire room spotless. the dishes had been cleaned and stored properly and the counter was spotless. he sighed, letting his head fall against the cold metal of the fridge.

he had fucking choked you, he had put his sullied hands on you after he promised himself to be better. tears came to his eyes again as he cried silently, his head hanging in his hands. on the drive back he had accepted the fact that you would leave him after this. there was no way you would want to stay with someone who put hands on you. just because he had come to terms with it didn't mean he liked it, but there wasn't much that could be done.

he took it upon himself to sleep on the couch that night.

you woke up the next morning to an empty bed. you're initial panic was quickly calmed when when you saw your boyfriend curled up in a rather uncomfortable looking position on the couch. you let him sleep, shuffling your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast and coffee before you headed to class.

the noise woke eren up, his body shooting itself off of the couch as he whipped around to look at you. his heart broke when he noticed your tear stained face.

"y/n, i am so sorry," he started, rushing off the couch and into the kitchen. you raised a hand to stop the river of apologies that was sure to flow out of his mouth. you had stayed up for a good while trying to figure out how this conversation would go, and every time you came up blank.

"what was that?" you asked as your hands fiddled with your coffee mug. "what the hell was that eren."

he took a deep breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing. he had to tell you. it wouldn't be fair if he didn't.

"when i - when i was younger my dad used to beat my mom. i guess i can't really say when i was younger because he still does," and thus started the word vomit of an explanation that pooled out of eren's mouth for the next half an hour. he told you everything. how his mother would clean his face before dealing with her own scars, how he turned a blind eye towards the abuse if it means saving himself. he told you about dina, zeke, his past relationships, everything.

at one point you had moved from the kitchen to the couch, your hands clasped as you listened to him. he had to pause multiple times to cry, squeezing your hands to try to keep it under control.

"he called me worthless every day. and i had spent so long trying to prove to him that i wasn't that i lost myself. but you, you found me, baby. i will never forgive myself for hurting you, and i understand if you want to leave me, but just know that i love you more than i've ever loved anyone, more than i love myself and it scares me."

it was a sorry sight honestly, the two of you sobbing into each others arms on the couch. you knew about the tension eren had with his family, but he always refused to tell you why.

"i want to move out," you said after a few minutes of silence. eren opened his mouth in protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.

"i'm not breaking up with you. but, we shouldn't have moved in together yet. neither of us are ready, and that's okay. but i can't keep doing this, and i don't want to hold onto empty promises anymore. it's only been a few months, i can still move back with my friends, and you can go back to living with armin."

eren nodded, melting into your hands when you put them on his cheeks.

"why didn't you tell me this bub?" you asked.

"i didn't want you to think i was weak." you shook your head.

"never. you were doing what you could to survive. i don't blame you for that."

"you didn't have to clean the kitchen you know," you smiled slightly. "i would have done it when i got back."

"a guilt clean?" eren huffed out his own laugh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"yeah. a guilt clean."

"i have to get to class. but when i get back help me star packing up. alright?"

"alright."

elles rambles: not my best work but i felt called to produce angst lol . thank u bae for beta reading <3 @starryenigma

[rayshippouuchiha]

So, a YouTuber I had massive respect for just put a hit peace out on shippers. I don't know but feels very shitty!

They said things like; "Shipping is pedophilic" or "Thoes, shippers, need to sexualis everything" and "They all want it to be canon and it's really creepy that they ship two boys together (has to do with the film that Pixar put out recently... forgot it's name and haven't seen it so far so, eh)" oh and my favorite "Shippers are what makes fandom bad! They even ruined FanFic!"

I am not someone who unfollows because of an disagreement in ethics and beliefs, I find it very toxic for my mental health when I still enjoy the content of that person, but not gonna lie that one really hurt!

Maybe it's because I am Bi and don't really have the most positive experiences with either "side"(straight and LGBT+, I label myself even though I don't like it because otherwise I'll always be "the curious girl"). Having this fantasy world where I can make the characters I connect to Bi and write about it makes me happy. It gives me a bit of piece to go through the same thing with them or to fantasize about how excepting they could be!

I know shipping is not for everyone and I don't want to have my shippings canon(god forbid no! I ship fucked up stuff.... Dobby/Harry girl here by the way... still don't ship it, my friends still send me their smut fics... they improved XD). I openly criticized shippers who harass creators because they didn't get their ship(it's not cool guys and girls and in betweens. Stop it! Or I send you the Dobby/Harry fics I get!). I tag everything I post correctly and try to be as intrusive in fandom space as possible. It feels shit that I am lumped together with the toxic part! It feels shit that my interest "ruin" "your" fandom for you. It feels fucking shit that I "sexualize everything" when all I, and many others, do is to write two characters cuddling on the couch and eating popcorn.

What I also find curious is that nobody ever beats and I when I write about a straight crush but god forbid I write about the main crushing on the same sex or even all of them!

I don't know... just venting! I'll probably be over it in a day or so but it's just very... yeah.

Ps. I mean it stop harassing people! I'll find your inbox! XD

Yeah no I would have unfollowed for that but that's me and I handle my content different from you and that's perfectly fine.

Shippers created modern fandom, that's just the facts. The elders in the Star Trek TOS days laid the groundwork for modern fandom thanks to Spirk.

So much of fandom was made by women and queer folk and there are a lot of people out there who have issues with either or both of those groups.

But yeah, in my opinion, don't harass others, stay safe, and enjoy yourself.

[celest1all]

unfriendly (ii)

pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader

warning(s); angsty-ish, badly written ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, im not really sure what else.

authors note; here’s part two!!! there will not be a part three so please don't ask, thank you. also I started this at one a.m and its not four a.m so please don't yell at me if its poorly written :(

read part one

masterlist

everyone who wanted to be tagged for part two: @mggpleasedontlookhere @loki-an-idiot (there were some others but it wouldn’t let me tag, im sorry)

Everything was crumbling down around you and you had no idea how to stop it. The sound of Spencer’s voice plagued your mind so much that you had to take a ‘sick day’. It wasn’t just the sound, it was everything. What he said; “I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who just plain fucking rude” echoed night and day, the look of pure disgust he had on his face and how he walked off like he didn’t give a damn re-ran itself over and over again on repeat in your mind. It was exhausting. It was painful. It was breaking you. 

Thankfully, Hotch didn’t think anything of it when you had called in asking for a day to recover from your ‘food poisoning’ so he let you have the one day off. That’s why you were currently curled up on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you whilst watching whatever was on, not having the energy (or the willpower) to change the channel.

You had texted Penelope earlier to say that you wouldn't be coming in today due to the fact that she was the only one who knew of yours and Spencer’s fight -- if you could call it a fight, it was more him yelling at you and leaving you sobbing in the hallway. You didn't choose to tell Garcia, she only knew because she stumbled upon you with you knees clutched to your chest, crying your heart out. But you were glad that she was the one to find you since she was your closest friend after Spencer.

Spencer. Oh how you missed him. Some would call you mad for missing the person who was the cause of you breaking down in a hallway of the FBI, but how could you not miss the one person who you loved most in this world? How could you not long be in the embrace of someone who made you feel whole, feel safe? 

You hated yourself for how utterly head over heels you were for someone who quite literally didn’t want to be seen with you. He had made that very clear when he took one look at you the day after it happened and scuttled away. 

You presumed that Spencer had told Ashley what had transpired between the two of you since she kept looking at you weirdly, but then again, it didn’t take a profiler (or whatever she was) to notice something had happened. 

Before the incident -- that’s what you were calling it now since it pained you too much to call it anything else -- you and Reid were attached at the hip, giving breakfast to each other and making the other coffee. Now? You wouldn't have been caught dead near one another.

When there was a case and you were being briefed at the roundtable, he would sit on the chair furthest away from you which was ultimately quite difficult since it was a round table. On the jet he would make sure was sat next to Ashley and once again, furthest away from you. Well, it was you who sat the furthest away this time. You knew that Reid was more liked on the team than you and you had come to terms with that ages ago so no one really noticed when you sat by yourself, distancing yourself from everyone. And you weren't about to tell them, you didn't want to ruin Spencer’s relationships with the team -- thats if they took your side, of course. 

A knock at your apartment door pulled you away from your pit of despair that was your mind. You thought for a second whether or not you should answer the damn thing, but when whoever was behind it knocked again, you reluctantly got up.

Apparently, the visitor was also impatient since they gave the door another two raps, “Alright, I’m coming. Jeez.” You muttered, not entirely sure if it was loud enough for them to hear you.

You slowly made your way to the entrance of your apartment, rubbing your eyes slightly. When you opened the door, you could tell immediately who it was even if you were still looking at the floor. How could you know who it was? Well, you didn’t really know anyone else who wore converse with odd socks on.

You widened your eyes before looking up, “Hi.” You didn’t really know what else to say. Hey Spence, how are you? Oh how’s your relationship with Seaver going? Yeah those didn’t really seem like viable options. 

“Hey...” He sighed, his head cocked to the side slightly.

You looked around the corridor outside your apartment briefly before returning to face him, “What are you doing here?” 

Spencer swallowed before raking his hands through his hair. “I was hoping we could talk.”

You scoffed at his words, “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“If I remember correctly, last time we ‘talked’ you insulted me and then left me crying in a hallway.” You stated plainly, crossing your arms over your chest. You saw Reid wince slightly but you didn’t really care. 

You rolled your eyes when Spencer didn’t reply but you still moved out of the way to let him inside. Old habits die hard apparently. He had a look of surprise on his face when he saw you move, but he walked inside nonetheless.

You shut the door behind him and sighed, “Why are you here, Reid?” 

Reid. He was expecting it, didn't make it hurt any less though. He looked round your apartment briefly, almost acting like he had never seen it before (which he has, multiple times).

He swivelled on his heel and turned to face you, his and gripping his strap of his satchel whilst he worried the bottom of his lip between his teeth. “I’m here to apologise.” 

You inhaled sharply, not really expecting him to say that. You weren’t entirely sure why he came to your apartment, to yell at you more, maybe? But to apologise was not on your list of reasons. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He repeated, frowning slightly.

“Yes okay.” You sent him a pointed lip, arms still crossed firmly over your chest. “As in start apologising.” Spencer nodded and mumbled a ‘right’ before he sat down on the sofa where you were previously cooped up.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He started, fiddling with his hands that were in his lap. “I shouldn’t have said or done any of the things I did that day. I shouldn't have made cornered you and mocked you for being jealous. I shouldn’t have insulted you, called those things, and said that I didn’t want to be in a relationship when that is just a blatant lie. I never, never, should’ve left you in that hallway sobbing whilst I went off with Ashley.” He looked up at you and could see you visibly flinch at the sound of her name and he couldn’t blame you.”I could hear it from the bullpen, and I couldn’t stop hearing it. I’m so sorry for everything, y/n. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You stared into Spencer’s eyes, a smirk breaking out onto your face. “Okay, so correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just say that when you told me you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, was a lie?”

Reid narrowed his eyes ever so slightly whilst nodding, not entirely sure what you were getting at. “So why the fuck did you put me through hell?” Now it was his turn to flinch. Your sudden change in tone and the way you flung your arms about took him by surprise. “Do you have any idea how bad that hurt me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear the one person you love most in this world say that they could never be in a relationship with you? I had to take a fucking sick day just so I didn't have to see you or Seaver!”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes before continuing, “I’m going to forgive you.” 

Spencer could swear that he was about to get whiplash by how quick your moods were changing. “What?”

“I’m going to forgive you.” You repeated. “I’m forgiving you, this is me forgiving you.”

“Just a second ago, you were--“

“Look, Spence,” Spencer exhaled when he heard you say the nickname he had been dying to hear for a while. “I’m doing this because I’m in love with you. Love makes you do weird shit -- well, to me anyway. So I'm forgiving you. I forgive you.”

You watched him get up from his place on the sofa and make his way over to you, “I’m so fucking sorry, y/n. Truly.” 

“I know.” You smiled softly up at him. “How are things with you and Sea--Ashley?” 

Spencer frowned at you, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a couple, right?”

“No?”

“No?” Your face scrunched up and you shook your head in confusion. “Wait, I thought you were.”

“No.” He let out a breathy laugh before he placed his hand on your cheek, making you look up at him. “How could I be in a relationship with her when I love you?” 

Any bit of breath you had in your lungs had just been wiped from existence. “You...love...me?” When you scanned his face for any sign of deception and came up empty, you broke out into a grin. “Good, but you’re going to have to make up for what happened with a shit tonne of kisses and cuddles though.”

“I thought you said that you forgive me!” He replied, laughing slightly. 

You nodded at him, “Oh, I do. But I still want kisses and cuddles.”

“Let’s start now then.” Spencer grabbed your face and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of love. In that moment, you felt whole again. Something you hadn't felt for a while.

[im-the-punk-who]

Yeah bro!!! Ship and let ship high five!! We all sail under the black and we all are here for Flint's freckled forearms 💙💙

Yeah! 

Also you didn't ask but you sent this as I was in the process of stepping off my soapbox so I'm going to step right back on for a second, for a slightly tangential but related note to my last post.

For me, accepting other people's opinion doesn't just mean ‘let them love the things you don't’, I think it also has to apply to letting people hate the things you love. Everyone has different experiences, and not all of those are good, but they are all real, and valid, and part of allowing each other the space to enjoy fandom is allowing each other the ability to not like something we like, and not shame them or force them to like it in order to be a ‘real fan’.

Fandom(not just BS but in general) lately has really seemed to latch onto this idea that anyone who holds a negative belief about a ship or character is an ‘anti’ and therefore is inherently wrong, or misunderstands why people like a certain character or ship, or that they just ‘don’t understand or haven’t watched the show correctly.’

Anon, I have watched Black Sails seven times all the way through and written at this point about 100k of meta - including a significant amount about John Silver. I understand deeply and intimately why just about everything happens in the show(again, as I personally understand it, but, y’know), and I especially understand why John Silver does the things he does. I have been, I have lived with, and under, and around John Silvers. I get it. I understand. I also still can’t fuckin’ stand the guy, lmao. And it’s not because I don’t understand his motivations, or haven’t considered why he does things, or because I just hate him because, or even that I can’t empathize with him. It’s because his personal values and motivations don’t line up with mine, and that ruins my enjoyment of content including him. That’s it. I think he’s an incredibly well written character, and I also have a mild panic attack when I think about engaging with anyone who acts like he does in certain parts of the series, and whom I would gladly cross the street to punch.

That doesn’t mean that I begrudge people who do enjoy Silver-centric content(and listen I am not perfect. I do sometimes slip on this. It’s a process, lmao.) but it also to my mind means that I expect the same effort from his fans to allow me my thoughts and feelings.

And that can be really hard. Cuz, to paraphrase a popular post, sometimes the way that people characterize my favorite lil’ dude makes me very angry. 

Especially if it's a character that you care deeply about and identify with really strongly, it can be hard not to take hate and criticism of them personally. But it’s important to realize that just because someone doesn’t like your favorite character, it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, or the part of you that you associate with that character.  

And honestly, even if it does mean that? That’s okay. 

Just because we’re all in the same fandom doesn’t mean we all have to get along and be buddies. We can dislike each other, we can bicker, we can disagree and dislike and sometimes straight up hate each other. We’re people. We’re people!!! We’re imperfect and sometimes we can’t help that other people’s opinions make us angry.

But what we can do is try to remember that we are all here because we love the show and had a deep and personal connection to it. None of us is spending our quarantine on tumblr-dot-com blogging about Black Sails at all hours of the day because we thought it was just ‘okay’.

(Obviously this is all assuming we’re not talking about the kind of hate where people harass other people’s inboxes, vague about them in the tags, or insult them personally etc. I’m talking about when someone posts a negative or critical post strictly about the character themselves or a frustration they have with canon/fandom portrayal.)

Everyone forms their own opinion about how they view media based on their own personal experiences and how they interact with media in general - and just because mine lead me to a certain conclusion and someone else’s lead them to something different, it doesn't necessarily follow that my conclusions are any more or less valid. Someone without similar experiences is probably going to pick up on different things - and will probably miss a lot of the things I pick up on because they aren’t consciously or subconsciously looking for them! 

And just because I’ve done more(or less! although....yeesh) research and thinking and talking about the show, it doesn’t mean that someone who has watched the show once and decided that was enough for them and reached a different conclusion is necessarily wrong. If they don’t want to do the 18 month deep dive I have, it’s my responsibility to accept that. Now, I might start a discussion about things I’ve noticed that might change their mind, but I’ve got to be prepared for the possibility they might not interested in that discussion.

And in that case, to quote Marcus Aurelius: Ain’t shit I can do about it. I’m only responsible for my own goddamn blog.

And again, this goes for both love and hate. There are people who hate my boy, my sun, the love of my entire heart, James McGraw. That’s cool. They’re blocked. They can stay in their fandom corner and I can stay in mine and we can just agree to cross the street if we end up on the same post.

Sorry to completely hijack your lovely ask to prattle, but this is really something I feel strongly about, because I feel like if we can all acknowledge that ‘don’t yuck my yum’ extends to more than just ‘you have to accept my ship as valid�� we’d have a lot less of the really yucky negative feelings that end up driving so many fans away.

[vickypoochoices]

Scrabble Heart.

Author's Note: I don't write James fics ever, but this idea came to me and he was the only person I could imagine pulling this off! I also need you to excuse any mistakes regarding the rules for Scrabble. I played once, over ten years ago, and cried because I was so awful at it! I've had a quick Google of the rules, and I know I've forgotten about the double points on the first go, but we can forget all about that when we see the outcome of this game right? I hope!

Tagging: I don't really have a tag list for James, so i'm sorry if I've tagged you and you aren't interested. @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou @littlegreenmoo @krsnlove

"I miss Zack. He would never pick on me like you have. Relentlessly. All day long.”

“Oh boo hoo. Cry me a river. Who do you think planted this little idea in my head in the first place?” Kaitlyn retorts, not even glancing up from where she's picking at her worn down, stubby nails.

A sharp hiss of breath, grinding teeth and a tight ball of scrunched up fingers under the table was her only response initially, a half hearted threat eventually following. "When he gets back I’m gonna...”

“Shower me with kisses? Squeeze me so tight I literally explode?” A giddy squeal from the entrance to the coffee shop interrupted her.

“ZACK?! What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think I’d miss one of the biggest nights of my best friend’s life?”

A sharp slap sounded out as the palms of Zack and Kaitlyn met in unison for a high five. Both wearing matching smug smiles. Both watching on as their friend sagged against a corner seat.

“Good job Liao. She’s a tough one to crack but with a little perseverance we’ll have her coming round to our way of thinking in no time.”

Zack slid into the seat next to her, bringing an arm up to hang loosely around her shoulders. Her nostrils flared at the overwhelming and intensely overpowering scent that followed. Not what she had grown accustomed to. Zack smelt fresh, fruity, exotic. Shrinking back slightly, she eyed him cautiously, taking note of his face. Flecked with a smattering of fresh freckles, and the tone of his skin; a shade pinker than what was probably deemed desirable. She flinched at the sudden thud of Zack's backpack tumbling to the floor.

Whilst one eyebrow remained in place, higher than the other, her hands betrayed her, instinctively grabbing at thin air greedily, eager to snap up the thick slab of chocolate she could see poking out the top of the bag.

“Present!” He exclaimed, still not making a move, eerily still and watching her closely. She swallowed hard, suddenly on edge.

“Did you get abducted by aliens whilst you were away or something? One, you are being really weird right now. Like, really weird. Two, the Zack I know would buy chocolate as a gift for me, but find it too irresistible and end up eating it himself then palm me off with a fridge magnet. And three, am I really supposed to believe that you got a tan if that’s what you want to call it, from a last minute trip around Europe?”

“Okay well one, if I really was abducted by aliens I’d be selling my story and making my millions right now instead of wasting my time here with you. Two, that was one time that I ate your chocolate and i’ve spent the last five years apologising for my mistake, how much longer are you going to hold it against me? And finally, Europe does get hot. Sometimes. I’ll have you know.” Zack puffed out the breath he’d been holding, cheeks reddening with each word. He looked her over, a smirk tugging at his lips, a glimmer in his eye.

“And I thought it could serve as your first engagement present too, I was going to get James a nice bottle of wine for tonight, but I ran out of money.”

She rolled her eyes, tutting loudly. “That’s it, I take it all back. From this moment on I am best friend less.” She stared pointedly at Zack, Kaitlyn giggling in the background as she stealthily swiped the chocolate bar, taking advantage of Zack's momentary lapse of concentration.

“Love you too babe! I’d better be the first person you call once James pops the question or I’ll seriously have to reconsider my answer when you ask me to be your man of honour.”

A sweet smile ghosted her lips as she flipped him the bird before flouncing out of the coffee shop. An unsettling feeling began to rise in the pit of her stomach, a bitter taste still apparent after the conversation she'd just had.

The fresh air hit her face on, hair whipping around wildly as a gust of autumnal wind swept past her. But she barely even noticed, subconsciously winding her pashmina a little tighter around herself, her nose burying into it. As her feet carried her off down the path littered with crunchy, crisp golden leaves, her mind was stuck in St. Mark's Basilica. The large round domes and marble multi coloured pillars. With her feet now rounding a corner, her mind wandered further, now walking along the Bridge of Sighs at the Doge's Palace. She paused for a second, surprising herself as a rumble of laughter escaped her mouth unexpectedly.

"It's fascinating here. And beautiful. We could get lost in Venice and roam the streets for months and I'd still never tire of this place." James talked animatedly, his pace of speech hurried as his excitement grew, all the while his thumb brushed over her knuckles soothingly, despite his apparent excitement overtaking his mouth.

The glistening water that passed them, as they both stole glances of each other. James looking at her wistfully and lingering. Nope. If he was going to propose it would have been then. In Italy. One of the most beautiful and romantic countries in the world. Or any one of the other amazing places they'd visited together. Not a random Thursday night in their apartment of all places. She shook her head, unsure why she even entertained the idea. This was Zack and Kaitlyn anyway. Why did she ever take them seriously in the first place?

A long, drawn out breath escaped as she made her way into her shared apartment with James, silently cursing the loud jangle of keys that seemed to slice through the silence. At least Zack didn't bring her another keyring back. Her set contained two keys but dozens of mismatched keyrings, mainly little momentos as a memory of the places her and James had visited. They'd taken a year off together. They were both busy and successful in their own rights, but some days it had seemed as though they were slipping into the old ships in the night routine, which so many long term relationships always seemed to suffer. James had often talked about showing her the world one day, until the words 'Why not today' tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, little to no thought actually going into the logistics of it all.

Twirling around on the spot, her eyes narrowed, skepticism pooling within her as she took note of her dimly lit surroundings. James sat hunched over their dining table, flicking his wrist a few times, a flickering flame from his matchstick disapating cleanly, her nostrils flaring slightly at the heavy smokey scent drifting towards her. The room would have been pitch black, were it not for the dozens and dozens of candles strategically dotted around the living room. Shit. He's not...?

Catching sight of her, James's demeanor changed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, mustering up a lopsided grin, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions.

"Hey." His voice was normal. Not squeaky or strained, no hint of nerves in the slightest. Her voice however betrayed her, the notes wavering shakily as she choked out a terse 'hey' of her own in response.

Something in the way she remained rooted to the spot, anxiously eyeing every candle painfully slowly must have prompted James as to the inner turmoil she was currently battling.

Striding the short distance between them, her fingers greedily snatched up the half full wine glass she found pressed between them, a trace amount dribbling out of the corner of her mouth as she struggled to knock it back cleanly in one.

He eyed her curiously, warmth jolting her to her senses as his hand covered hers, steadying, as he seamlessly removed the glass from her grasp and sat it down on a nearby coffee table. The warmth radiated through her, her whole body fighting off a chill she wasn't even aware of until now. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his warmth spread to her face, a rosy glow heating her cheeks as he cupped her face in his hand, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"The electricity's out."

She tried to reign in the breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding, a short puff of air the only thing to pass her lips somehow. Idiot! There's a perfectly good explanation after all!

"That...makes sense."

A rich chuckle rumbled, James cocking his head to the side as he looked her over from top to bottom, perplexed. "Are you okay?"

She stared, deadpan for a moment, mouth slightly agape before pulling herself together. She wasn't about to let Zack and Kaitlyn ruin this night. Game night was one of her favourite nights of the week!

Nodding her head once, setting her shoulders back and fixing her face with an award winning smile she hoped wasn't too over the top, she took a step towards the 'game table'. "I'm fine Ashton. Just eager to beat your ass, as usual!"

Breaking out into a grin, he paced over to the table, both now hovering by their designated seats. "Is that so?"

"Have you been getting a little extra practice in tonight?" She jerked her head towards the Scrabble board set out in the middle of the table, a few words scattered around.

"The pressure is on me tonight."

She swallowed hard, mind going into overdrive for all of thirty seconds before James pressed on.

"If I remember correctly, you've won two weeks in a row."

Bringing a hand up to cup around her ear, her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Say it a little louder."

He chuckled distractedly, his gaze dropping to her lips. As James took a step towards her, she took one backwards, the heel of her foot knocking into contact with her chair. Her eyes widened, a brief moment of panic washing over her. Fingers curling tightly around the fabric of James's shirt reflexively, she braced herself for the fall, expecting James to come tumbling down with her. Instead, strong arms encircled her waist, gently placing her harmlessly into position on her chair.

A momentary loss of balance forced James down with her. Their foreheads coming to rest together, her chest rising and falling exaggeratedly as she caught her breath. Grateful for the strong arms wrapped protectively around her and the feather light strokes of his fingertips along one of her hip bones that followed.

Her eyes found their way to his and found them seeking out an answer to his unanswered question. A slight angle of her head was all it took, her lips latching onto his once, then twice, hoping that would be enough to reassure him that she was fine.

"Someone's eager to play." James whispered into her covered neck, before dipping lower to place a single kiss against her collar bone.

Her cheeks flushed, slowly unravelling the long pashmina she'd long since forgotten about.

"How about we play later?" Her lips tugged upwards into a coy smile, as she beckoned him closer still with a crook of her finger.

A startling crackle from one of the candles distantly in the room pulled them apart.

A small patch of skin on the back of her hand glistened under the candlelight as James left a lingering kiss there. "As tempting as that offer is..."

The formation of a sharp crease between his brows had her unintentionally mirroring him, a furrow of confusion flitting across her features at the obvious deflection. His words were at odds with his facial features, and she couldn't understand why.

Swallowing down an influx of unwelcome emotions, a breezy smile slipped into place as she turned her attention to the table, eager for a distraction. Settling back in the chair and sucking in a healthy amount of air, she welcomed the space as James eased himself off of her, and into position opposite.

Hands steepled together, her wandering eyes latched onto the opposite side of the table. A collection of tiles with a mismatch of complete and half strung together words caught her attention, the most striking being Eternity. Chin jutting, eyes narrowed, voice croaking, she managed just one word.

"Cheat!"

"This is one game I very much hope I can win tonight." His eyes sparkled in the darkness.

"Ready when you are."

Dipping his head, James alternated between an awkward squint and a cocky flit between his letters. After what felt like an eternity, he finally placed down his first word. Love.

Really? All of that build up for four letters and seven fucking points?

"Losing never looked so sexy before." She smirked teasingly.

"I just need a little more time to warm up."

A thin sheen of sweat shone off his forehead, but before she could voice any concern a sharp buzz at the door interrupted. Raising an eyebrow questioningly, James shrugged casually, using the back of his hand to swiftly swipe at his clammy forehead.

"Well I couldn't make us dinner with the electricity out, so I went ahead and ordered us some pizza. Could you go? I'm pondering over my next move and I'll probably just start spurting out random words to the delivery guy if I go."

"Don't get ahead of yourself Ashton. I think you'll find it's my turn next. We didn't up the stakes last week without my knowledge did we? Because you are acting strange all of a sudden. Unless you just can't take the humiliation of being beaten by me three weeks in a row..."

"Sounds like someone is worried about that winning streak coming to an end."

With a stern face and narrowed eyes, she outstretched two fingers in front of her, before moving them back and forth between the pair, signalling that she's watching him.

"I promise you." James smiled, raising his hand and placing it over his heart, sincerity flushing his features. "I'm not cheating, and we didn't up the stakes. This game is an important one. There's no coming back from this for me if you beat me three weeks in a row."

She nodded her head once in acceptance before bounding over to the door, eager to get back to the game.

"Good evening ma'am." A muffled voice greeted her, buried behind a stack of pizza boxes.

"Seems everyone in the building had the same idea tonight, we're rushed off our feet. Now then, which one of these is yours?"

A middle aged, kind faced man suddenly appeared as he carefully manoeuvred the tower of boxes onto the floor.

"Huh, looks like there's been a mix up. Nothing is labelled, makes my job a hell of a lot harder let me tell you kid! There's no other way to do it than opening the boxes and looking through."

A slight huff and an irritated glance back at James followed, not that he noticed. He was hunched over, scrutinising each tile whilst stroking his chin absentmindedly.

"Alright let's do this. James is awkward and orders extra toppings, so I guess his should be easy to spot."

Time seemed to stand still as the delivery guy sifted through the mountain of boxes painstakingly slowly.

"Well what do you know, the bottom two eh? What are the chances?"

She found her eyebrows raising and her foot tapping, her patience well and truly tested now.

"Okay great. Thanks so much. Have a great night!" She strained out, struggling with all her might to refrain from slamming the door in his face.

"Can you believe that James? Next time I think I'd rather just starve!"

Winding her way back to the table, she frowned at the now vacant seat, James no where to be seen. Setting down the pizza boxes in the middle of the table, she let out a long sigh. Same thing every Thursday. Wine goes straight through him! Her lips curled up into a cunning smile, as she risked a peek behind her, ensuring James wasn't about to walk in and catch her stealing a glance at his rack and tiles. With the coast clear, she loomed over the empty seat on his side, her throat constricting instantly.

There were no spare tiles, on either James's side or her own. Just the Scrabble board, positioned perfectly straight, and completed. Her legs buckled, the safety of James's chair acting as a net and catching her, her elbows coming to rest on the table as she leaned forward, eyes erratically scanning over the words in place.

Love. Eternity. Italy.

Stomach clenching as realisation set in, she allowed her eyes to drop a little further down. An unmistakablely large diamond ring sat in the centre of the board, the accompanying tiles set out directly underneath it spelt out just four more words. Will. You. Marry. Me.

"I hope Zack and Kaitlyn didn't ruin the surprise."

Mouth agape, her head slowly turned to her right, gaze falling to the floor and landing on James, knelt down on one knee looking at her earnestly.

"James what...?"

"Is it hot in here all of a sudden or is it just me?"

"That might have something to do with the hundreds of candles you've got heating up the room."

"Right, yeah. I didn't think that one through properly did I?"

Her arms folded across her chest, the penny finally dropping.

"The power isn't out?"

"Nope."

"And the pizza delivery guy?"

A sheepish look flits across his face. "He might have been paid handsomely to help me out." He paused, clearing his throat loudly. "But babe, we've sort of strayed a little here."

Her stomach twisted into knots, her heart pounding harshly. "Right err..."

"No wait. This isn't right. I've spent the best part of a year planning all of this and I've messed it all up."

"A year?" She repeated quitely.

"It would have been too obvious to do it whilst we were jetsetting around the world. We'd talked about doing that together for so many years, I didn't want to take anything away from that experience for you."

Her face softened at his words. My James. Always so thoughtful.

"I didn't think it was possible, but every day I fell more and more in love with you. I nearly caved in a few times, even went as far as to check out a jewelers whilst we were in Malta. Then you text me saying you'd woken from your nap and you were starving so I came home with food instead of a ring."

She couldn't help but giggle, cursing herself mentally. Damn you stomach!

"And then we came home and we settled back into our old routine and I thought I'd missed my chance. Then I realised, none of that even matters. I could wine you and dine you in an extravagant restaurant. Or we could stay in, surrounded by all of our firsts."

She chewed on the inside of her lip nervously, but her expression must have faltered, as she felt James stroke her hand timidly, taking a moment to find the right way to answer her confusion.

"The first time we kissed. The first time together properly, how could I ever forget? The first confession of love I'd ever muttered to anyone before. The first experience of living with a partner, my beautiful partner." His eyes softened.

"The first proposal. Hopefully the last! The first moments afterwards, when you've given me your answer..."

Diving downwards and pressing against him forcibly, they fell backwards, tumbling together into the floor. For the second time that night, James found himself instinctively curling his arms around her protectively, their lips melding together in a sudden fierce frenzy.

Panting as he pulled away, James cradled her face in his hands, thumb gently stroking either side in adoration. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm glad I could soften the fall for you."

"That yes was an answer to your original question James."

"Right right." He nodded his head slowly, taking a moment for the words to sink in properly. "Yes, as in yes yes?"

"Okay, that word is officially banned from now on!" She quipped, face widening in a broad smile.

Raising her hands to his lips and brushing a kiss to each finger individually, he kept his eyes locked on her's, the threat of happy tears brimming in his eyes as he slowly slipped the ring onto her finger.

"There's just one thing left to do now." He murmured against her mouth, tugging at her bottom lip.

"Which is?"

"Finish the game, of course. What else?"