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satoruxx · 1 year ago

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sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

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queermania · 11 months ago

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I don't want to start drama and I don't expect you to respond to this but I think you deserve to know what's being said about you. tumblr. com/transfagbenny/738678589192552448/and-id-appreciate-if-we-stopped-using-the-terms

i actually am going to address this because this person has been lying about what's been going on for months and they've apparently been harassing other people for months if not years, so. it's time to put an end to this.

before i start though i want to make it abundantly clear that if you take this as an opportunity to do anything other than block this person, then you are trash. do not send him messages. do not tag him in things. do not harass him in any way. leave him alone. if you need to block, do so and then move on. hate mail and harassment is disgusting behavior and i don't want to be surrounded by anybody who engages in it. and if you do it on my behalf, i think you are worthless and i want nothing to do with you.

so, this is what happened: back in february of 2023, an anon asked me if i had any opinions that would get me canceled with the dean girlies. i replied, "oh now we’re talking!! hmmmm let’s see. i don’t care about benny at all. deanbenny does nothing for me. deanbenny is dust. it is dust. drowley rights forever" and i did not tag it because i'm not an asshole. bear then sent me a message that at the time i thought was funny/cute because his url reflected that he was obviously a huge benny fan. we had a very cordial exchange. everything was good. we chatted a little bit about how neat it would've been if benny had been played by a black actor and how the racism problem with gordon would've been fixed if gordon had been played by a white actor. not all of our conversation is visible anymore (and i also don't think all of it was on this post anyway) because i've since blocked him so his replies no longer show up on my posts. the point is: everything was fine. it was a good tumblr exchange. he continued to follow me. i did not follow him then or at any point.

the problem is that he kept coming onto my posts and into my inbox to try to make things about benny. that is not okay. i had already said that benny was a character (and deanbenny a ship) that i was not interested in. to me, this is an obvious boundary i've established that he repeatedly crossed. it's not an egregious violation, obviously. more than anything it's annoying. what he should've done, if benny was that important to him, was unfollow me and move on. but he didn't and i indulged him for awhile but at a certain point i thought, "okay maybe if i stop indulging him, he'll take the hint." so i stopped responding. he did not take the hint. he got worse and he even started commenting on things that he couldn't make about benny, just to willfully misinterpret things i said and taking them completely out of context. unfortunately, i don't have receipts for any of this because at the time i didn't know it was going to become an actual problem (however I have since learned that this is an established pattern of behavior he engages in, so you can probably find examples on other people's blogs).

it got so annoying, though, that i very carefully broached the subject in a private server with people i trusted. without naming any names or using any incriminating language (i.e. not specifically referencing benny), i basically said that there was someone being annoying about a specific character on my posts and i wasn't sure what to do about it. immediately, a handful of people replied with some variation of "the benny stan? he's been doing that to me too." i do have receipts of this (and an entire server to back me up) but i hope you can all understand why i'm not going to provide those or name names (or ask anyone to get involved publicly). the point is, it became apparent that i wasn't the only one and this was a pattern of behavior. i also learned during that conversation that bear has a history of harassing people and calling someone racist or a transphobe if they block him.

at that point, i decided not to rock the boat. i would just continue to ignore him and maybe he would get bored and move on. well that obviously didn't happen. he kept doing it and as a fun added bonus, he started to make vague posts about me. the thing is i don't actually care if he vagueblogs about me. it's his blog. he can do whatever he wants. it's none of my business. i mean i personally think he should've just unfollowed but, again, his blog, his choice. it is annoying that every single time he would do it, someone would send me a link or a screenshot of him doing it, but that's not really his fault. so, again, i just ignored it.

this is where we get to the incident in question. after a private discussion among a small group of friends, i posted this obviously joke poll at the insistence of @letterstothedevil, a tumblr user who has given me permission to include her in this.

the original message about the poll:

the permission:

now EYE think it's abundantly clear that the poll was a joke amongst friends, but maybe it wasn't, and i'm not going to fault anyone for not magically knowing that. i am, however, totally willing to fault someone for being a gigantic asshole. bear commented on the post and i, admittedly, gave a somewhat dismissive response because at that point i was so tired of him being willfully obtuse and twisting every little thing i said that i just didn't want to bother. he then went and made a series of not-at-all-vague posts calling me racist and claiming that i simply do not care about the racism in the show and it's obvious because i've never ever discussed it on my blog (which is a hilarious lie given that i'd specifically discussed it on my blog with him). at that point, there was no reason not to block him. he was already doing the thing that i didn't want to deal with. so i did. and i thought that would be the end of it.

again, i was wrong.

i then started to get anon messages daily about benny and deanbenny and how i'm racist for not liking benny, etc. this was harassment that EYE was on the receiving end of. nobody else was a victim of the messages i was being sent. they were sent to me and it is not my job to make sure other people are protected from the harassment that i am experiencing. i'm pointing this out for two reasons: 1. because i did try to protect bear from it for awhile anyway. i knew that people would assume it was him and at the time i was still giving him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than the fact that i didn't think he could send me messages since i blocked him. and 2. because when i did finally start to respond to some of the messages, bear acted like he was somehow the victim in all of this (and continues to act that way to this day).

i don't know if bear had (or currently has) anything to do with any of the messages i get (which, thankfully, have slowed considerably). what i do know is that at no point during any of this happening did he stop looking at my blog and vagueblogging about me.

when i finally did answer a few of the messages, bear had a bit of a meltdown about it. i know this because he used a separate account that i hadn't know existed to message me and because he talked to one of my friends about it. (i'm not going to name that person but if they want to get involved publicly of their own accord, that's up to them lol). i'm also not going to share screenshots of what bear said to me because he explicitly asked me not to (it's also the reason i'm not sharing screenshots of the numerous receipts i have of the things he's said and lied about on his blog but, unless he's deleted any of them, you can go and find the posts yourselves.) what i am going to share is that in the message he sent to me, he flat out lied about his behavior. he told me he hadn't been vague-blogging about me, that he would never ever do that about anyone, and that he would certainly never harass someone (all things that i have receipts of him doing).

it took me awhile to respond to this message because i was still trying to be gracious about the whole situation. i recognize that he is much younger than i am and i think it's important for me, as a full blown adult, to take that into account. i had a private discussion with a few trusted friends about how to handle this because it was important to me to not let him off the hook for his behavior and for lying just because he's young. this is what i ended up saying:

his response was to double-down on his lies (while, hilariously, vague-blogging about me and the whole thing) and then go into victim mode about something so completely unrelated and far-fetched that i decided i simply wanted nothing to do with him ever. (this is when he asked me not to share screenshots, so i won't, but this is me saying that i have ALL of the receipts, bear, so if you continue to lie, you will not like what happens.) i blocked his alternate account and tried to ignore him.

the harassment continued. again, i have no idea if he was actually part of it. the vagueblogging continued. he started to do it to other people he associated with me. many of them blocked him because of his behavior. i continued to answer some of the hate i received, continued to ignore and/or block most of it. it got so bad that i was sent seizure bait on more than one occasion, one time bad enough that i actually ended up going to the ER. there are receipts of all of this, too. you can see on my blog the messages i've been sent. i think at one point i even shared a snapshot of what my inbox looked like. i've shared privately with friends (who can confirm if they want to, but no pressure) screenshots of the kinds of messages i get that i don't respond to. the point is, that for a period of months, i was relentlessly harassed. and at no point during this time did i say anything to or about bear (or anyone else). the most i've done is respond to messages that have been sent to me. i've largely sat quietly while this thing happened to me and bear continued to make posts about me and act like he is somehow a victim in this. he's assumed things about me and my identity. he's violated boundaries i've set. he will not let this go. and i'm not the only one he's doing it to.

i'm so fucking tired of it. leave me alone. leave my blog alone. leave my friends alone. leave any and all of the people who have blocked you for your own inappropriate and obnoxious behavior alone. that's it. that's the end. none of this would be happening if you would just respect other people's boundaries. i don't want you on my blog. i do not want to interact with you. i don't want anything to do with you. that's it. the end.

#replies #anonymous #wank for ts

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https-milo · 2 months ago

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milo's inobox hates to see me coming 😓😓 anyways, as you are amazing and everything I now pretty please need a norbara instagram so the trio can be complete 😻

nonono milo's inbox LOVES to see you coming! tysm for the request indie!!

DATING NOBARA KUGISAKI INSTAGRAM!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating Nobara Kugisaki!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

a/n no curses!AU

m. list

photosbyy/n · 10w

9.7k likes Liked by prettygirlnobara

photosbyy/n flowers in puddles are just as beautiful as those on stems <3

prettygirlnobara do you do headshots for people? photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara hiiii yes! ofc i do! i was looking for people to model a photoshoot of mine. if you're interested, could you send me a dm? prettygirlnobara photosbyy/n sent <3

photosbyy/n · 9w

10.6k likes Liked by prettygirlnobara, m.fushiguro, yujiruns, and makiroll

photosbyy/n pretty girls run the world

Tagged: prettygirlnobara

prettygirlnobara thank you for having me! maybe we could do something together next time!! photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara how would that work? I'm the photographer, I need to take the picture lol!! prettygirlnobara photosbyy/n that's not what I meant...

m.fushiguro wow she actually looks peaceful for once

yujiruns looking good, kugisaki B)

makiroll okay gorgeous

prettygirlnobara · 9w

3.9k likes Liked by photosbyy/n, m.fushiguro, yujiruns, makiroll, yutasgardens, and inumakitoge

prettygirlnobara Y/n let me post the outtakes!! check out her digital photoshoot here www.photosbyy/n.com/prettygirlsruletheworld ive never looked so beautiful <3

photosbyy/n you're always beautiful!! you were the perfect model <3 prettygirlnobara photosbyy/n thank you so much <3 my offer still stands from your last post photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara I still don't get it :((( photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara WAIT. NO I UNDERSTANF NOW PLEASR GP ON A DATE WITN ME !!! prettygirlnobara photosbyy/n id love to!!

makiroll oooooo love the pics girl

yutasgardens those flowers are so pretty! they looked very cared for !!

photosbyy/n · 7w

11.2k likes Liked by yujiruns, m.fushiguro, and prettygirlnobara

photosbyy/n we both surprised each other with bouquets 🥺🥺

prettygirlnobara i cant believe you remembered my favorite flower photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara I can't believe you remembered mine! prettygirlnobara photosbyy/n don't be stupid. how could I forget anything you've said? photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara 😵‍💫😵‍💫 you're so rhgebrgkbrkrjbe

photosbyy/n · 7w

10.7 likes Liked by prettygirlnobara, m.fushiguro, and yujiruns

photosbyy/n now a piece of her is with me forever <3

prettygirlnobara i wear your eye color like a badge of honor photosbyy/n prettygirlnobara I do too <33333

Thank you so much for reading <3

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

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moghedien · 10 months ago

Text

So someone is in your inbox asking for money

I'm not going to say that every single instance of this happening is a scam, but in my experience, random people following you and then sending you an ask to ask you to reblog a post or donate, they are almost always a scam.

You may feel bad about ignoring them or deleting the ask, but doing so is probably going to be the best course of action. Not only so that YOU don't lose money but so that you don't give the scammer access to you followers.

But how could you know that the person is a scam and not the one instance where someone really needs help? Let's go over some ways to check for signs of a scammer.

this is the post I got in my inbox today. I've personally never dealt with this particular version, so I didn't immediately delete. I probably wouldn't have reblogged anyway, but I wanted to look into this specifically.

The first thing to do is go on their blog. In this instance, the post they want me to reblog is pinned, and it also has a donation link. I'm NOT going to click on the link because there is no indication at all to what this might lead to and I'm going to instead hover over link and see what url pops up

in this instance, the url shows me that I'm going to be redirected to paypal. IMMEDIATELY a sign that this is a scam. people can still scam with gofundme and other sites like that, sure, but at least with those sites, there is some accountability in that you can see if the donation goal is being met or not. with paypal, you're just blindly donating, assuming that this donation amounts are what the person says they're at.

And also this is not to say that honest people can't use paypal for donations, sometimes that's the only option. But if you're going to donate to someone via paypal, you should at the very least be personally aware of who you're donating to and that they are an actual person.

But let's look deeper just in case. The next thing to do is look for other sketchy signs on the blog. So I scrolled through to see what they were blogging about otherwise, and there were red flags here.

Just glancing through the blog, I could see that they almost exclusively posted about Taylor Swift and the Mandalorian. They posted A LOT within the past day (this is why you should have times enabled btw) and exclusively from the same four or fives blogs.

But maybe they just post a lot. You can actually very easily see their posting habits by looking at their archive.

We're going to go to the three dots and click "view archive"

You can also just type in "[username].tumblr.com/archive" for any blog and access anyone's archive as long as they have a public account. But what's the point of doing that. Well, in the archive, we can get a very quick overview of someone's posting habits.

And here I've circled in red the first and last thing this blog has posted in the month of February 2024 (the month I'm writing this). You can see that both of those posts were posted on the same day. Meaning all of their posts in the entire month of February happened on the same day.

But what about posts outside of February 2024?

Well there are none

You can sort posts by month and year and doing so for this blog shows that they ONLY posted in February 2024 and ONLY one day in February and it happened to be the day before I got an ask in my inbox asking for donations.

These are the most obvious tells, but there are other signs you can look out for.

For instance, all of their posts are without any sort of tags. They never comment on anything and their only original post was their one asking for donations. If you click on the search function in their blog, nothing comes up

There's also the fact that the blog is clearly targeting at making the people who WOULD care about someone needing insulin sympathetic. The fact that they use BLM, identify as a black man, have pronouns in their bio all are on purpose to make people who might care feel like this is a person who deserves help. the scammer is using your empathy against you. DON'T LET THEM. Be smart and always always think before you act, even if that action is just posting. You can help people in need without feeding the vultures that want to take advantage and want to use YOU to steal from your community

But let's just be REALLY REALLY sure this is a scam.

On whim, I copied the text straight from the ask in my inbox and put into google and then added "tumblr' at the end. You'll be shocked to know there were immediate results and not from this blog

First one was a reblog from over a year ago. the exact same wording minus the cost of the insulin and the call to action at the end

I clicked on the original poster for this and the blog was cleared out!

Minus them using the exact same photograph in their header as the blog that sent me an ask today, of course.

The second instance I found was slightly different wording, but using similar enough wording that it can be assumed came from the same scammer. This came from another ask in an inbox, but the receiver rightly called them out as a scam. The post is from two months ago and the blog that asked it as been deleted outright

All of this to say, there are always scammers on tumblr, but there have been a lot recently. This one happened to not be posing as Palestinians in need, but a lot are (in that instance, Palestinian bloggers have been vetting who is and isn't real so you can always check to see if they're getting support or getting called out from actual Palestinians). They won't always use these methods and won't always been this obvious, so even if you don't donate to someone yourself ALWAYS be thorough in your checking before you reblog a donation post. Make sure the charity its collecting for is REAL and if its a person asking for money, make sure that person is real as well.

You can help people without getting scammed or giving scammers access to your followers, and not reblogging every donation post doesn't make you a bad person or mean you don't care. Its important to be careful, and not being careful can do more harm than good. it makes actual people in need look sketchy and takes away resources that could have been given to them. So if you aren't sure if something is real DO NOT REBLOG IT

#long post

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frownyalfred · 4 months ago

Note

Re: the homelander fic and Batman's and Superman's relationship being worse for it

so, I kind of disagree?? I'm sorry!! Like, 1000% see where you're coming from, and honestly, you're probably not wrong, but my take away was Clark better understanding why Bruce does what he does, and them both trusting each other more. For example, Clark's joke that he would be worse, after having looked Homelander in the eyes (finding the same loneliness and sense of separation from those (soft, breakable humans) around them) and see how it corrupted someone who could have been him in another life? It's true at its core. He could have been worse.

Clark has friends and family, but Bruce will always be the person he can trust most, not least because they keep each other in balance (and I know it could hurt their relationship, as you said, but I think they both watch each other not because they don't trust, but because they love each other deeply (platonically or otherwise), but because they can trust each other so much.

Like, sure Clark trusts Lois. He loves her deeply. But he couldn't (nor does he want to) trust her to kill him/stop him if the need ever arises. For Bruce, it's the same with Alfred. They both bear similar weights and trust the other to carry it.

(Sorry for rambling in your inbox, I just had feels I couldn't contain. I know writing homelander was hard for your mental health (which I totally get, I've had a writing experience like that) but it was genuinely such a wonderful fic and had me savoring every last word. I LOVED the dynamics between the characters you write and this fic really show cased your talent for it. It was just AMAZING and made me just utterly delighted to read! I'm honestly about to start my reread of it after I send this comment it was so good!!! Seriously, thank you ♡♡♡ you're just amazing and wonderful and a gift to the community for sharing your work with us ♡♡♡)

No, that's an excellent point. I think I'm leaning too far into Bruce's perspective after writing his POV. He fears that this will push them apart, but you're right -- Clark does seem to be grateful for Bruce's actions, his caution. That he can rely on someone like him if he ever came near to Homelander.

There's been a lot of debate in the comments section of that fic as to whether or not Clark would have actually been worse, or if he was just joking/being hyperbolic. I was thinking about if Clark had been subjected to Homelander's life (torture and experimentation from infancy onward, being reduced to an investment by the people around him, being valued only by his charisma and powers, etc) but I suppose the future is more open-ended than that. He could've been worse, if only because a part of Homelander still wants to be human, in a way. And a Clark who was raised to despise humanity would have very few ties to it, unlike Homelander (who's still technically, inconveniently human).

Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts with me :) This was a fascinating thing to puzzle over this morning. I'm feeling much better about writing Homelander now that it's been a few hours, lol. He's just so gross and pathetic, you feel gross feeling bad for him. But I suppose that's the point, right?

#asks #anon #myfic #theresurrectionist #homelander #the boys #bruce wayne #batman #dc #clark kent #superman #tw torture #tw torture mention

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ivysangel · 7 months ago

Text

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

#i hope this makes sense #it's 5 am and i haven't slept yet #★ just yappin ★

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stedefxckingbonnet · 1 year ago

Text

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd season 2 #x reader #izzy hands my beloved #ofmd s2 #fanfic #ofmd izzy hands #tumblr deleted the ending the first time so please bear with me #keep the requests coming #please request #requests are open #requests open #israel hands #israel hands imagine

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lemotmo · 1 month ago

Note

I love everyone trying to remind people to remain calm.

Q. I'm going to throw up. For real.

A. There are currently lots of posts being made trying to remind people to breathe so here's mine. We are on episode 5 of an 18 episode season. And people have a LOT of expectations for the next two episodes. There is nothing wrong with wanting things to move quickly but it's not a practical demand. Based on the tuff that has been released so far, I fully expect tonight's episode to end on positive terms for BT. Probably pretty good terms, actually. It would be true to form for the show and for Buck. We may see the beginnings of the cracks but it would be true to form for Buck to choose to look past those for now. I do think we will get some hints tonight though, especially where Eddie is concerned. But people are going to have to be patient. Eddie is not going to come out, shave his mustache and tell Buck he's in love with him all in one episode. And Buck is not going to dump Tommy and tell Eddie he's in love with him all in one episode. That's not going to happen. They're going to drag it out. Eddie being all over their story is a start and if we get actual hints beginning tonight and in episode 6 then everyone will see where things are headed but it won't be told in one or two episodes. And as long as people can see what they're setting up you shouldn't want them to rush through it. I know the audience has been waiting 7 years but Buck and Eddie haven't. Let them have the build up. Let them be awkward and nervous and sure of their individual feelings but unsure if the other shares those feelings. Let them purposely flirt. Let them have looks and touches that linger just a bit longer than they should. Let them PINE. Let the story will they or won't they. We all know they will. That's the better story. The truth is if all of this is heading where most people think it is, then we are just at the beginning. They will take the time they want. Don't make yourselves sick expecting it all to happen in one episode and then convincing yourselves that if it doesn't all happen immediately then it's not happening at all. And always ignore Max Gao, he is a troll who lives to rile you up. If you're not new to 911 then you should be well aware of his game by now. I understand the noise that will come after tonight's episode. And I understand that everyone is over it. But that won't make the show speed up the story. Enjoy the moments you get and just try to ignore the nonsense.

Thank you nonny!

And as for Ali's post?

YES, YES and YES!

Don't expect everything at once. Let the story play out the way it needs to be played out. These characters deserve a good love story for once. Let's not have them rush into this, but let them pine and long for each other. It'll make for better TV and a better shipping experience.

That's all. 😉

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #insight into 911 fandom - focus on season 8 #buddie speculation #BT speculation #season 8 speculation #nonnies galore

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mellybabbles · 9 months ago

Text

If KOSA pases and tumblr explodes, I'll leave this here.

Thank you all. Seriously, I've managed to pick myself up, and finally become the person I want to be, because of you all. Mutuals, followers, or maybe just some random that popped by and thought "cool, have a like/reblog" You have all helped me recover and actually take that step into becoming a better person. I'm happy, and I can say that with full confidence. You've all given me an unfathomable amount of joy, and let me meet the love of my life, and people I thought I'd never be able to interact with. For my mutuals:

Thank you @italic-doing-random-shit for inadverately helping me take that first step into trying out tumblr properly again, instead of running away. Thank for you being an amazing friend and always being there for me. Thank you @largefound for giving me the pushes I need to get confident on my art, and branch out and try new things. Thank you for being one of the best friends I could've asked for. Thank you @tundra116 for being a mood booster every time I see soem crack fuckin post or ask in my inbox. You motivated me to keep going and give others the same joy you give me, even if for a split moment. Thank you @still-got-no-idea for fulling up my notifs and giving me a big smile every time you begin to like my posts. We don't talk much, but I'm glad we're mutuals. Thank you @panda-of-the-trash for motivating me to actually be creative with my ideas, and inspiring me to properly write. Thank you @godofautism for accidentally teaching me to be more aware of what those around me are feeling, and allowing me to take a step into treatment for my alexithymia. Thank you @systematic-err0r for being the mutual I always really wanted to get to know. You're always giving comments, reblogs and likes to the point the support can be mindbogling at times. Thank you @c00kietin for motivating me to give new people a chance, and to finally work on the relationships I have now. Thank you @phymarsh for giving me that first boost of excitement of an inspiration of mine following me and interacting with me. For giving me a smile every time I see you on my dash. Thank you @switchthedragon for always remaining strong, inspiring me to do so despite all the hate and threats I was receiving. Thank you @liliallowed for inspiring me to try new artstyles and finally figuring out the one I love the most. Thank you @inka-boi for being one of the biggest beams of light, helping me to learn how to sympathize again and love myself and others. For helping me to go back to my roots and mend what was broken. Thank you @juno-punk for inspiring me to make my own OC's and AU's, instead of locking myself up with shame in fear of what others would think if I made them. Thank you @mikerooksi @lust-sans-vios-rpaccount @wonkus-bonkus @doodlenovaa @killersansofficial @dustsansm1 for showing me back to the joys of interacting with new people and finding joy in it, instead of forcing myself into uncomfortable situations. Thank you @safwunnz for making me feel noticed and big in the grand scheme of everything. Allowing me, even if this might all be gone, to feel like I've made enough of an impact to reach out to artists that inspired of me in the first place. Thank you @elizakai for the first step in art. You're the reason I draw and enjoy it, allowing me to actually have something to do when I'm in a pit or rut of depression. Thank you @/swiftmitsu @/artpepkin for making my month by a simple button click. For all the smiles and laughs your art and animations have given me. The joy I once never got to experience. (Too nervous to ping) Thank you @ant1quarian for allowing me to read stories that actually make me feel like I'm there, and escape how horrible reality can be sometimes.

Thank you all for giving me the love and life I'd lost from being beat down. For those who weren't pinged, I was too nervous. Thank you all so much. For all my friends outside of tumblr that are mutuals on here, you all know how much I care for you and I'm happy to have you all in my life. Thank you for everything.

#thank you #stop kosa

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amber-jinx · 4 months ago

Note

A bit of a controversial question

Who do you think Chloe was in love with more, Max or Rachel? And what do you like/dislike about Amberprice and Pricefield?

Boy, been so busy I left this sitting in my inbox, oops!

This is indeed controversial cuz at the end of the day we won't be completely sure of either of the ships' dynamics unless we are Chloe herself, so it's all up for people's interpretations. (*whispers* therefore I hope we can all be sensible here)

Personally I don't think love could be measured in a way, like you could be head over heels for someone you've met for only over a month, and we can't exactly say that is more or less than a long-term friendship. I think even Chloe might not be able to choose one. I view Pricefield as a deep friendship, as with Ashly Birch's take; And AmberPrice as more of a romantic dynamic, even though they weren't official girlfriends.

If we refer to the intensity and passion of Chloe's love, due to the state of her life she was in when she got closer to Rachel and the AmberPrice dynamic, I'd say it's definitely more than Pricefield. With regards to how long-lasting it is however, we see that Chloe never forgot about Max even after not getting a response from her for 5 years; this is the kind of enduring love that friendships (which I personally appreciate a lot for) usually have -- is more prominent in Pricefield. These are not mutually exclusive and so all the infighting is really unnecessary haha, why not AmberPriceField! They're both what Chloe needs in her life ^^

I got into Amberprice because of the amount of chemistry they have, the mutual attraction they have towards each other and how they always have each others' back despite being in darkness themselves -- they're each other's angel and it's definitely touching. Sharing clothes and stuff freely and crashing each others' places? Cute. Mentioning the other around other friends often? Hella cute! There are also multiple elements of surprise, like you'd think a rebel like Chloe wouldn't care for a perfect student like Rachel, who instead turned out to have a wild side, and Chloe turned out to be a softie on the inside. Stuff like these makes their chemistry much better than generic straight relationships I've seen in the media growing up. And the fact that Chloe still held the belief that Rachel wouldn't leave without her after all that she's gone through, definitely says something. Rachel was very genuine with leaving town together. Also true love on this end.

On the other side of the coin though, I really wished they had communicated better, the both of them. (It's a pity they were too young and without guidance to navigate all these) Yes Rachel I know you care about Chloe's feelings and wanna protect her, but being honest and open can go a long way. Chloe could've better regulated her emotions and how she comes across, such that she'd not come off as pushy or react as negatively e.g. give Rachel "the stinkeye"; if they worked on themselves and are actually allowed to improve, a healthier relationship would've blossomed. I also felt like there wasn't anything holding them back from them doing overboard with doing wild things together, like drugs and weed. They kinda spur each other on without the voice of reason or given the chance to mature after getting out of arcadia.

These AP shots come from Life is Strange: Rachel's story "the diner" ep, which gave me new insights on some of the nuances that could've been present in their dynamics. Pretty well-made given its constraints!

As always I can't say too much about Pricefield cuz I've not seen all their interactions, so I can only make individual comments. Take them with a pinch of salt!

On the good side Chloe's enduring love is always impressive, like remembering Max's birthday after all those years and immediately gifting her William's camera and taking her back. Moments where she emoted and expressed her appreciation with Max felt really genuine and I like how she's really supportive of Max, lifting the latter's confidence when Max was insecure, not to mention standing up for her in front of Nathan, David, Joyce etc. Very wholesome. On the other hand Chloe could've better nuance the manners of her speech, especially when she's angry -- Max is helping her so much after just reconnecting her for 5 years, it's not really an obligation and so I think she could've held back on some of her words at Max, which still comes down to emotional regulation, but I also understand that she was going through really tough times. I also didn't particularly like how she'd only change her wallpaper to Max after Max followed her wishes, even though that's not super abnormal for an 18 yo.

Max the sweetheart is honestly endearing when she doesn't hold back on positive words for Chloe, and when Chloe's off-balance she'd also be able to provide the voice of reason to put them on the right path. It's giving secure attachment style-- except the bad texter part. I just wish she'd stand up to Chloe a little more to avoid getting them into even more trouble, but that's just a personal take. My main issue with Max is her not writing to Chloe as much in those 5 years, but friends grow apart and it's only natural. As with DE, we'd have to take into the account of survivor's guilt and that nothing last forever, so if they ever separate, it is also understandable and inevitable in life.

The OG did a good job on developing Max and Chloe's bond, and it makes sense why so many ship Pricefield, which I'm not against :) hope my slightly rushed response has answered your question pal! And as always, thank you for asking <3

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barcaracing · 1 year ago

Note

bye you’re one of the best writers on here for pedri😭 could i request a one where his girlfriend meets his parents and brother for the first time at a football match?? You’re amazing!!!

pairing: pedri x fem!reader

warnings: none

a/n: ahh tysm :,))<3 sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, i have no excuse. i��m just bad at checking my inbox and great at forgetting tumblr exists. hope u like this one!

******

"Mi vida, I love you, you know I do, but if you don't stop bouncing your leg, I will swerve into Lewy's car and we'll both die with no money and a lawsuit for a legacy." Pedri puts his hand on your thigh while looking over his shoulder to reverse the car into the parking spot. Meeting your eyes, he winks. "And that's usually not what football players get sued for."

You can't help but laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly before forcing yourself to relax. You know there's no reason to be nervous about meeting his family, especially since they're probably the nicest people on this planet given that they literally raised your boyfriend, the kindest and most down-to-earth person you know. But that doesn't change the fact that you need them to love you. There's literally no other option. It's either that or death.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, glancing at the expensive vehicle parked next to you. You're not sure how much it's worth, but getting sued by the striker for property damage would probably leave you dirt-poor. "He wouldn't actually sue you for hitting his car, right?" You muse. "It's not like needs the money. Or the car."

Pedri shakes his head. "No, but he'd do it to get back at me for flinging the gymnastic ball at his face yesterday."

"Oh," you say, wincing. "Sounds fair."

Pedri snorts and turns off the engine before unbuckling himself. He turns to you with a gentle smile and those big, earnest eyes of his and you feel your heart stutter.

"Ready?" He says and for a second you need to remind yourself that he didn’t ask if you wanted to run away with him and start a cute little family on a island somewhere, but if you were ready to leave the car. That silly mind of yours.

"No." You laugh helplessly. "But can't back out now, can I?"

"You could," Pedri says slowly, thumb rubbing circles into your thigh. "But they'll love you. You've talked to Fer on FaceTime and my parents are fond of you already. You have nothing to worry about and there's nothing you could do wrong. I promise.”

You can see that Pedri genuinely means every word, and it warms your heart to know how important this is to him. You're important to him, you realise, and just like that, you'd do anything for him. That’s crazy, right? He really has you wrapped around his finger and that is one mortifying and reassuring realisation to have right before meeting his parents. Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a kiss before mirroring his smile when you pull back.

"What if I start cheering for Atlético?" You ask innocently.

Pedri pecks your lips again. He pulls the keys out of the ignition and pats your knee, the metal feeling cold against your skin. "Then I'll sue you for property damage."

"What did I damage?"

"My heart."

You burst out laughing. Pedri shoots you a cheeky grin before exiting the car and a moment later, the door on your side opens. You step out, shaking your head at your boyfriend's crooked smile. "That was horrible."

Pedri closes the door and pulls you closer by the loop on your pants, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Anything to hear that pretty laugh of yours." He leaves his hand on the small of your back and rubs the familiar fabric of his kit between his fingers. "Nice kit," he comments as you make your way to the entrance.

"Thanks." You hum, looking down at it. "I wanted to get Gavi's but they didn't have it in-store so I got this. Player 8 is alright."

Cutting you a sideways glare, Pedri pinches your skin, making you yelp. "I take it back. You're horrible." He crosses his arms. "I hope they dislike you and Fer pushes you down the stairs."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Pedri!"

"That's what you get. I hope you get a good tumble in. Toppling down those steps like a cartoon character until there are birds flying over your head." He manages to keep a straight face for a moment longer before he completely dissolves into giggles. Like actual giggles and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen even if you want to kick him.

You both come to a slow halt at the entrance. It leads to the changing rooms, but you need to go through another door to get to your seats. Mikky and the others are probably already inside and so is his family, which is honestly terrifying to think about. You really wish Pedri could at least come with you to introduce you or just stand there and look pretty, but he's already running late.

"I'm sorry," Pedri says with a hint of remaining laughter. He takes both your hands into his and meets your gaze. "Just breathe, yeah? You'll be fine, princesa. My parents and brother will finally meet the beautiful, smart, funny, and kind girl that I've been talking about since March. It’ll be special." He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. For a moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and things don't seem as dire anymore.

“I’m excited to meet them too, amor," you say softly and pull back to kiss him, whispering against his lips, "Go win this, campéon. We'll be cheering the loudest in there." You poke his side. "Only if I don't crack open my skull and bleed out on those stairs, of course. You fucking sadist."

Pedri chuckles and lowers his face into the nape of your neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. After some encouraging words and a few more kisses, you part ways and find yourself moving on autopilot while going to your seats. Weirdly, it calms you. Camp Nou always has. You've walked through these halls so many times now and every time, you feel like nothing bad could happen at a place this magical.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat anyway when you approach your seats and a familiar-looking dark-haired boy in a Barca kit takes one look at you and his whole face lights up. "Y/N, hola!"

This gets the attention of Pedri's parents, who spin around and immediately greet you with warm smiles and kisses on the cheek. "It is so nice to finally meet you," Rosy says, hugging you tighter. "Pedri has told us so much about you."

"He really did," his father teases, giving you a hug as well. "Can't get him to shut up even if we wanted to."

You laugh, feeling your face heat up at his words. "He's been telling me so much about you all as well, I'm so happy we finally get to meet." Rosy squeezes your arm and Fer flashes you a smile so familiar, it makes you feel like you can actually, genuinely do this. "So when did you arrive? I hope you haven't been waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all," Pedri’s father replies, "we just got here ourselves. We were hoping to talk to Pedri before the match, but it's fine. We'll see him afterwards."

"About that," Rosy swoops in, and you notice how soft her voice is. “We were hoping to go out to dinner with you two if that's alright with you both. And if you don't have other plans, of course."

You shake your head, warming up to the idea of spending more time with them. "We'd love to join you. Especially after that lunch fiasco today."

"That's great," Rosy answers at the same time that Fernando asks,

"What happened at lunch?"

Sighing, you shake your head and sink to your seat. "It's too terrible to talk about." You glance at them conspicuously before leaning forward as if to share a secret. God knows where the confidence suddenly comes from. "Pedri tried to cook for us."

Horrified gasps meet your statement.

"What did he make?" says Rosy, sounding concerned. "I'm so sorry, mi niña."

"Don't ever let him do that again if you don’t want to get food poisoning. He cooked for me once and I nearly saw the light," Fer warns with a shake of his head.

"Pedri can cook?" Fernando asks, looking extremely confused.

“Can’t,” all three if you say at the same time.

“Oh.” He blinks. “Well, that’s a shame considering we have a restaurant.”

“At least he’s got football going for him. Plus, a beautiful girl who eats his deadly food,” Rosy says.

“Ah.” Fer sighs. “Young love.”

You join their laughter and let your gaze wander down to the pitch as more players start warming up. Honestly, you haven’t even noticed that they’ve come out, but you suppose that can only mean that you’ve gotten along pretty well so far with Pedri’s family, which is a good thing. Very good.

Your eyes land on your boyfriend, who is already looking up at where you’re sitting with his parents and brother. There’s a wide smile stretching across his face and when he gives a wave, you all cheer and wave back. Pedri’s eyes meet yours and you could swear there’s a twinkle in them. He holds up a thumb and arches an eyebrow.

Smiling brightly, you nod and mirror his thumbs up. A dopey grin break out on his face and he touches his lips to send you a kiss. It’s embarrassing how you can’t even pretend not to be absolutely giddy and smitten by this.

You are quick to send a kiss back, which he catches and presses into chest while walking backwards, eyes still locked onto yours. He nearly trips over a ball and you can’t help but laugh, his parents and brother joining in and teasing the both of you relentlessly. The smile your face is hard to wipe off. You really had nothing to worry about.

*****

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