#but part of the fun is getting there myself

[grimminsanity]

Oh hey, lost my right eye at the beginning of the year, and literally every single thing that's written here is a full-on truth I've come to realize and experience. Long story short, my eye got punctured by a pipe that broke while clearing some snow in winter, and I got an ennucleation to have it removed and got an occular implant in.

I've still got my eye muscles - now connected to my implant - and my tear ducts, so I can still cry, though it happens a bit more on my right than my left now. The people not realizing you're half blind is definitely a thing. My parents were with me every step of the way, and they still forget I have trouble in low light and can startle me if they come up on my right.

Some other things I've noticed for anyone curious:

1. I used to have very good night vision, could adjust very quickly, and often took point on night walks with my mom. After I lost my eye, though, being in low light conditions is really hard for me sometimes? It's connected to the depth perception thing, I think, and everything starts to sort of blend in together for me. Dark rooms, even with a slight light somewhere, also cause issues because, again, it takes ages to adjust, and I bump into a lot of things. I've learned to map out spaces a lot faster now because of it.

2. Connected with number 1, driving on roads that shift from being clear to be surrounded by trees is... not fun. It takes my eye a little longer to adjust to lighting, so shifting between shaded and sunny places while driving is not fun. I tend to drive a little slower to compensate in those places.

3. Connected to number 3. and to the previous comments about being a safer driver, - which is true, actually! I've slowed down a lot and consider taking turns a lot more now - It's not harder for me to drive, persay, but it is a bit more of an inconvenience. Considering i live in a country that drives on the right side of the road, me losing my right eye means I've lost half of my perception of the road to an extent? The frame that hold my windshield blocks out a part of my remaining vision, so I actually have to lean to my right in my seat a lot more when taking curves or turns because I just can't see the full road. If anyone is driving towards me around a blind curve, it's gives me a little heart attack each time, and I have to correct myself if I'm too close to the center.

4. I'm an artist and drawing traditionally has become a bit more difficult to since I have to angle myself in a way that has me looking down straight at the paper as much as I can. Makes it harder when I have huge sizes of paper to work on school projects and have to use a big drawing board to lean on since I don't have a desk big enough for that. Causes a strain on my back as well as my neck because I've gotten used to sitting very stiffly in my chair to keep the right viewpoint of my paper.

5. Like mentioned above, I now have to have people actively tell me or point out things if I they want me to get or see something because I don't know what they can mean? I get frustrated cause they forget to say something, and then I get snappy if they get snappy with me instead. I literally need things to be pointed out to me.

6. The implant is basically a ball that gets put into your eye socket, and the prosthetic is essentially like a super thick contact lens that gets molded to the shape of implant and eye socket. You'll need to get them cleaned yearly after the first year or so and get the fitting checked every year or two because the prosthetic will settle and not fit as well as before. Connected to that, your prosthetic can move with your implant! Some move better than others. Mine moves well with small mini movements of my implant and slight shifts of the eye - looks very natural! - but if I suddenly look to my up or around me without moving my head, like the corner of my eye, you can immediately tell I've got a fake eye. Throws people off sometimes!

I'm sure there's a few other things I've missed, - or just not realized, really - so I'll leave it here for now. It does make me feel seen though to know that other monocular people are also experiencing things I'm realizing I now get to live with!

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (43/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

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A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.

When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously. 

“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”

“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”

Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”

Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her. 

“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room. 

Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”

You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”

“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”

“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”

Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?” 

The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”

“And what was the stake?”

Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”

A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”

Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine. 

“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine. 

You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”

Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”

You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”

Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”

“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses. 

Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.

“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”

You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"

“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”

With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”

“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door.  ”You coming?”

You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”

Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”

You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”

Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead. 

“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway. 

Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”

You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”

“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”

You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”

The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”

“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”

Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”

You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood. 

“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”

“We didn't.”

“But you did something.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”

You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”. 

Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot. 

You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell. 

When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.

“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it. 

“Everything's fine,” you smile.

He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”

“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer. 

Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.

Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”

Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him. 

Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”

As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you. 

Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you. 

“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face. 

“What do you mean?”

You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”

“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.” 

“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”

Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”

You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”

“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”

“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”

When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box. 

“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed. 

“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you. 

“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.

You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”

Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”

Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless. 

“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly. 

You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you. 

“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”

“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”

You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard. 

Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin. 

His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple. 

“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more. 

When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”

With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses. 

Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner. 

“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully. 

The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier. 

“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”

“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”

The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”

“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”

Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”

Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”

Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”

You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”

While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress. 

“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”

You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”

“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”

Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall. 

The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show. 

You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.

“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.

You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”

“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps. 

You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”

He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively. 

“It would be rude to cancel now.”

“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”

You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”

“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”

His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”

“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”

As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.

“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark 

Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 

“You really don’t recognize it?” 

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 

“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 

“Ari?” 

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 

Unless you were reading things wrong. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crop of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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[nencheese]

Do you know how long and how hard we fought to shut that shit down???? Do you want to live next to a nuclear waste disposal site??

As a german who is an environmentalist and very happy this shit is happening: Check your fucking sources.

Some resources, just for fun and bc i don't call out shit and then do it myself: German resource

resource on why its p fucking hardf to properly store nuclear waste:

A study about the health risks ofnuclear power plants for workers and residents:

Please, please, please: There is good reason people fought that shit for decades. There is good reason people dedicated their life to this fight, risked their life for this fight and lost their life to this fight.

Nuclear energy is not a solution to our problems. Just because oil has radioactive waste doesn't make nuclear better. It's just another reason oil is shit. You know who is also fighting oil? ENVIRONMENTALISTS!

Go and be part of a serious environmentalist group. Go to greenpeace, go to friends of the earth. Go and listen to people who have worked with environmental issues. They will NOT tell you nuclear is in any way a solution.

The only currently viable long term energy solutions are solar and wind.

Please, I am serious: it is shocking and downright frightening to see people who I assume are my age or a bit younger than me be so casual about the dangers of nuclear energy. Please inform yourself. And please: get active and get into a good, supported network. It's hard to get your environmental facts straight. Being part of an organization means you have a lot of people to connect to who have actually studied stuff for years. And we would be very happy to have you. Thank you for caring about the environment, it's not an easy task - but please, help us not make a step backwards where we want to go forward.

I wish all environmentalists a very suck cocks in hell

[nekropsii]

Wild how when I call Shipping Culture oppressively pervasive and awful for any Aro/Ace with the gall to enjoy anything on the Internet, I get called a Fun-Hating Killjoy and told to just shut the fuck up or off myself, no matter how mild or polite my comment is. Wild how when I say a character either is textually Aro/Ace or is easier to read as Aro/Ace than Alloromantic/sexual, people start talking down to me like I'm a child who doesn't know anything, saying "Friendly reminder that Aro(s)/Aces can Date/Have Sex too, just like us Normal People!". As if I don't know anything about my own identity. Wild how when I do either of these things or even just say I'm not into a pairing or uninvested in shipping in general people call me fucking homophobic, even if the (at least popularly perceived - let's be honest, people are wrong half the time) genders of the characters is never once made relevant. Even though their reasoning for me being homophobic is lack of investment in a gay pairing they like, and nothing more. Wild how people throw little baby tantrums at even the gentlest criticism of Shipping Culture, or someone choosing not to engage heavily in it. Wild how they have the audacity to ask, with hostility, what the fuck Aro(s)/Aces are talking about when they say Shipping Culture is hostile to Aro/Ace fans, or ask what's wrong with them when they say that they aren't into Shipping.

It's almost like Bigots don't realize they're being Bigots when they do Bigotry, so just saying you're not a Bigot isn't enough. It's almost like Aro/Ace people know what the hell they're talking about. It's almost like we have a fucking point. It's almost like we're valid in expressing contempt and frustration with the constant expectation to engage with Romance and Sexuality at every waking moment, even if we're Romance and/or Sex Favorable. It's almost like we're tired of getting our identities erased, and we're tired of expecting to "act normal", and we're tired of just taking it when Allos use the Favorable members of our communities as a scapegoat for why they should be allowed to totally erase any of our representation just for their "Harmless Queer Fun" - deliberately, and I mean DELIBERATELY, failing to recognize or acknowledge the character's orientation, and how an A-Spec's personal relationship with and expressions of Love are going to look drastically different from an Allo person's - and call us the Bigots when we even glance in the direction of objection.

It's almost like Allo/Amatonormativity are oppressive forces.

Alloromantics/sexuals are constantly looking for any reason they can to call Aro(s)/Aces unloving, unfeeling, frigid, soulless, cruel. Inhuman. They're looking for any reason they can to call us whiny children, stupid, people who "just haven't found the right one", addressing us only as "Works in Progress", or someone who can have their sexuality corrected with the right stimulus - Conversion Therapy and Corrective Rape are okay when it happens to us, after all. Any reason at all to call us heartless monsters. AlloAces are confused children. They can be fixed. AroAllos are manipulative, unfeeling sexual predators. They can't be fixed - just kill them. AroAces are frigid, mean bitches. They can be fixed. God forbid you're Aplatonic. God forbid you're part of the Repulsed spectrum. God forbid you're one of the Loveless. God forbid you hold any pride in your identity, God forbid you don't keep your mouth shut, God forbid you critique the overinflated importance Allos place onto Love as a concept. God forbid you critique something as asinine and juvenile as fucking Shipping Culture. Do any one of these and you've put a bright red, blazing neon target on your back.

Wild how the only real humans amongst us are the Romance, Sex, and Friendship Favorable who put their head down and mask as Allo, and side with the Allos when their fellow A-Specs get too loud for the comfort of their Allo friend's delicate little fee-fees. After all, Vitriol and Harassment are warranted when an Allo's feelings get slightly hurt that an Aro person says, on their own account, to no one in particular, that they're sick of every tag being 80% Shipping Content. Which is a vehemently evil personal attack, clearly.

Wild.

[hiraethwrote]

VENT SESSION LETS GOOOO — you’re allowed to scroll if you don’t care mwah

i spend an ungodly amount of hours on this app, and i look at you as my friends so just want to let you guys know

i am also a very nosy person myself, so seems only fair i share my own situation. but if you don’t care about all this, you can just keep scrolling. i honestly don’t mind lol

anyways… a few weeks ago, i told you guys i was going through something that was kinda heavy — yeah my bf and i were going through some stuff and started seeing someone professionally… we broke up

there was an understanding that this might be outcome when we first opened up this can of worms, and there turned out to be a lot of underlying issues that both of us had refused to acknowledge

it was definitely a mutual decision. though it’s a hard pill to swallow, we came to the conclusion it was the best for the both of us

we want such vastly different things in life, things neither of us should compromise on. to me, life came at me a lot faster than i anticipated and felt like there were things left unexplored — and neither of us want to hold the other person back from what we want

however, this is a person i have been with for six years, a quarter of my life. there’s obviously a lot of shared history which is hard to let go of. it’s also so incredibly painful when we’re not splitting due to lack of affection and love for the other person, but because our desires and wants in life just don’t align

he is still my best friend, and because of how our life situation is, we will continue living together as we have been doing for the past three years (he only lives here half the time due to work), until i move across the country when summer comes. we’re also going to celebrate christmas together because it just feels right lol

i would say i am doing as well as i can… we are obviously on good terms, but this is probably one of the hardest things i’ll go through. it is the biggest heartbreak of my life. but that is really just a sign that the time we’ve shared together haven’t been a waste. we can be proud of the fact that we’ve been honest, faithful, respectful and kind throughout the entirety of our relationship, to the point where this is so hard even though it’s the right decision

obviously, i am very scared of the path that lies ahead. he has been by my side for the better half of a decade, and i have the privilege of exploring things on my own. it’s obviously what i have been missing in my life, so i am excited for what’s to come, but terrified of living a life he’s not going to be such a big part of anymore

but things are going to be fine. idk how long it will take, i am suspecting very long, but i know in my bones this is for the best for us both. so with time, i will be happy

and not to worry, i have a fantastic support system. i have incredible friends who are there for me. i am lucky to have a family who is not guilting me about leaving a long term relationship, despite also being sad. and i’ve learned i have a great community on here who has showed so much kindness, and i am so grateful <3

that being said — i am not planning on taking a break from tumblr lol. if anything, i am starting to get out of my writers block. this past week i have written more than i have the last month so that’s good! i think i might try and be a little more productive than i have been the past few weeks (at least i hope so, work is picking up again hehe)

not putting this out here for sympathy or anything, but just a little update. i am interested in the lives of those i follow, so maybe some of you are interested in mine

wishing everyone a nice weekend 🫶🏻 i got work in the morning (day after the breakup that’s fun)

[cat-tyy]

Actually something pops into my head.

I just don't know how to start it lol

When I found a kid frantically slashing at the rose bushes, with a sword not mend for his size, it struck to me. I'm in sleeping beauty's story. I was wonder if I could interfere this time. "Hello child" I called, with a smaller voice than intended. "Who goes there?!" "Show yourself at ones!" the panicking child is seeking with desperation in his eyes. "Ah, sorry, I wasn't.. Trying to scare you." looking the boy up and down i continued "people usually don't react to me..." a loud silence. "Are you a witch!? People go on and on about witches these days! Show yourself! Leave my friend alone!" the child keeps getting angry with everything he says. "N-no I'm not, more of a ghost?" "atleast don't stammer when you lie to me! You're definitely a witch! Or a wizard, are you a wizard? Can you help my friend please?" the child has a lot of doubts in his voice but his eyes keep looking at the fast growing bushes. "Are the bushes always doing this? " trying to break the situation away from me and redirecting his growing angry at the bushes. Without saying anything he goes back to chopping.

He doesn't seem to hear me anymore, everything I say falls to deaf ears. Well it was fun while it lasted. The child, the prince if i remember correctly, was supposed to save the princess who fell to eternal sleep or something. With a kiss of true love? I looked at the kid, who just wants to save his friend. I can't remember anyone who was at the prince's side in the story. While I was just talking with myself, we got to the entrance of the castle.

Everyone was moving and busy. No one was sleeping along? I thought that that was part of the story. Prince just storms in and everyone seems to ignore him. Is that how you can treat a prince? The prince makes an dramatic entrance by full swinging the door "ROSA! Let's get some sun today!" the prince looks at her with desperation in. "I'm not going... You know I can't come..." the girl sound so incredibly sad, she doesn't look up to look at him. Just tucks her blanket over her head.

After listen for awhile hearing those children speak, laugh and snack on things the prince took with him. I figured out the girl, Rosa, has heard the story about the spinning wheel when she was 10 years or so, after finding out she refused to get out of her bed and her family didn't do anything to get her out and eventually she got the ability to grow those rose. My time here is almost over and i still can't make myself clear, I can't hug them i can't console them nor can I shout at the adults who didn't even help a child with problems far larger than she could handle. I get a weird question in my head again "WHAT DID YOU LEARN THIS TIME?" it announced judt like everytime. "The a adults in this world are garbage and should all be replaced! Well thats not really a phrase... Let's go with, friends over family" proudly I pop back in my room and decide to sleep for a while. "I really hope those kids will find a better place"

As an adult you keep getting pulled into a fantastical world meant for children to learn lessons. The problem is you keep learning the wrong lesson.

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[mejaemin]

his favorite kind of kiss- wen junhui

wc: 0.4k

summary: you’re just too cute for junhui to handle !

warnings: prns not used but implied fem reader, established relationship, fluff

an: i told myself i would post one pre written work a day but i also like attention too much to do that. again pls give me ideas to do this for the rest of svt !!

(soonyoung ver chan ver)

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

no matter what the age difference between you and jun is, you’ll always be his baby. in his eyes, you’re the cutest, daintiest, most adorable thing his eyes could ever lay on. these strong feelings of his are what lead him to babying you all day.

he simply can’t help himself. helping you drink from his cup before wiping your new drink mustache makes him swoon so incredibly hard. the way your soft lips gently brush his fingers despite the napkin between them makes him feel like giggling and kicking his feet. you’re just so cute!

whenever you and him have your long-winded yap sessions, his smile only grows bigger when he listens to you during your turn. your eyes get a certain sparkle to them and your body becomes so animated. there’s points where your hands start gesturing like crazy, and if it’s something you’re really excited to talk about, you stutter a little too.

you’re completely immersed in a story about the time you visited the pet store, pausing when you get to the part where you visited the cat section. with one deep breath in, you begin a long-winded apology for the fact that you went without him, stating that you were already in the store so you couldn’t just neglect all the babies waiting for you to watch them. it was like they were calling to you, how could you just avoid them and their cute faces?!

moments like these are where it gets really hard for junhui to control himself. after catching your breath, you ask him ‘are you mad?’ and he can’t help but reach forward to press a wet, obnoxious kiss to your forehead. with a chuckle, he explains that he can’t be too mad, seeing as he would’ve done the same. you immediately relax, continuing your story.

he only hears a few bits and pieces.. something about one of the kittens meowing for you, and seeing a trio that reminded you of him. he comes back to earth when you smile and say ‘it was pretty fun! i wish you could’ve came with though..’ and close your story. with a slow nod, he begins pinching your cheeks and pressing thousands upon thousands of kisses to your forehead while ignoring you asking if he was listening. it’s just so hard to when you’re being so cute!! he has to deal with the cuteness aggression somehow.. and his top way to do so is by kissing your forehead.

fin.

[carnations8delight]

Omg, i didnt think you’d answer!  

You saying that you don’t like to be misunderstood, resonated with me SO much, because I am the exact same way!

So I want you to know that I hear you. I understand you. It’s very important for people like us to feel very understood.

Been a directioner since 2011, never been to a concert so Liam’s death is especially devastating.

I believed in larrie as a joke. But then there were some proof that I thought was kind of real?

I don’t really know much about that now, but it’s the same thing as you, I’ve come to the conclusion, that “why is it my business?”

It’s not.

Especially because I saw how a lot of 1D fans went mental over it, crying in their posts literally live posting their meltdown over “larry allowing themselves to be closeted by Simon.” Which by the way doesn’t make sense now in 2024.

Then I saw them trying to hack Louis and his girlfriends, same thing with Harry!

Not to mention the “I hope your baby dies.” Incident.

And I just think to myself, if it has you going crazy like that you should allow yourself to take a step back because this was supposed to be about fun. Fun and music, everything else was just extra.

I know, we basically like to characterize them for convenience, but these are real people with real lives and feelings, And once I realized that, I wasn’t gonna let myself get too caught up.

And I’m so glad that people are talking about parasocialism. Directioners were way to comfortable stalking 1D’s family members, and friends, making fanfics and edits about them.

Buts It’s especially prevalent in kpop, where companies feed into the delusion of stans by sometimes catering to their online hate trains.

Omg im not gonna go on a tangent but, as an international you probably already know because it’s started to reach further parts of the Internet.

Anyway thanks for letting me understand you, people very often misunderstand me, so I’ll try to understand others as much as I can.

Plus peeps rarely talk to me on this site, which isn’t upsetting it’s just a different change of pace from my other social medias that have too much activity, so it’s kinda special. 

Hey unpopular opinion but the 1D boys DO NOT owe you any sort of liam tribute. They don't owe you a song they record together. Not a tribute concert. Not individual songs on upcoming albums. they dont owe you the discussion of their grief on stage. Or if you meet them. Or in interviews. Louis literally discussed how absolutely insufferable it is to recount his grief in interviews time and time again. Its absolutely insane the fact you expect them to talk about major grief while they are AT WORK. Like imagine being at your job or some corporate event and some person you barely know asks you, while you are working, on the clock, how you are dealing with a family members death. the group of unhinged psychologically challenged women creating a "fan project" or printing liams face to take to zayns shows is psychotic and deranged and frankly i think zayn malik should be legally allowed to come down from stage and bash your skulls in. I sure know i want to. I pray zayns team sees the tweets and his security denies those weirdos entry.

[ihatethisstuf]

This is a scheduled post (From, November 2nd, 2024, It's supposed to be posted November 24th, but Idrk how to schedule, so we just pray it works). Trigger warning for (in a positive connotation) self harm (its bit graphic) and mention of suicide. If you were mentioned, but those are a trigger for you, skip to the part you were mentioned (it'll be mentioned in grey), do not force yourself to go through it.

I know this is a rp blog. But, everyone who interacted, roleplayed with, damn simply reblogging it, had an huge impact on this achievement.

On November, 24th of 2023, I cutted myself. It took me to the ER. Thankfully, I did not get stitches, but it did leave a scar, a scar I thought would haunt me forever.

Spoiler: It didn't.

I remember the doctor asking me if I had suicidal thoughts or ever attempted it, and I knew that depending on my answer, it could take me to a psychiatric unit; I didn't want that. I didn't want the fear of explaining it to family or friends. So I lied, I lied, putting in mind that from then on, I'd commit to that never ever happening again. And here I am. 1 year free. And tell you something, these 2 months were hell, but every notification, every interaction, it was a daily motivation: "I need to finish that arc," "I could make more posts like it", so I can only say thank you and sorry if I sounded desperate sometimes, it felt like here was my only escape

Part of my young 5-year-old me, who dreamed of being themselves, without fear, was healed by this blog; I can thankfully be the EVIL VILLAIN MUAHAHAHA, and know that it's not that bad, know that liking villains does not make me a bad person, it does not mean I'm some sort of psychopath as some other kids would tell me.

Honestly, I completely understand if these blogs mods don't read it, bc it might be triggering, but I'll mention, just in case.

@one-sixer-please (I love interacting with your blog, is always fun, and it truly motivated me in my shittiest days)

@askdrunkbillcipher (Bruhh, your account is like the funniest I've ever interacted with, I don't even know what to say, just, thank you.)

@theaxolotl-god (You were one of the first accs I've ever interacted with, and truly helped me to keep going)

@river-nonbinary-billcipherfan (I've learned so much from your acc, and omg, thank you. Thank you for existing and being who you are)

@17ghostsinatrenchcoat (You seem such a genuinely nice person irl, I am really proud of you :])

@trickstertriangle (I wanna hug you/p, I love interacting with your blog and I truly hope the best for you.)

@bills-library (You were my inspiration to start this blog)

@sillycato (I love you so much/p you deserve thd world, omg infinite hugs and presents for you, you are an angel, this Lucas btw, just if you don't know lol)

@pandagobrr (I would always smile at your notifications, thank you ^^)

@ever-growing-system (I was research anon, and y'all truly helped me to figure out more of myself and my triggers, thank you :,])

If you're mentioned here, thank you so much for making this app a place that I could run to in my darkest days.

And if you're not mentioned here, there's two possible answers

1st- I forgot you and I'm sosososo sorry😭

2nd- Idrk you or dont interact much, but anyways, thank you for existing, breathing, getting out of bed, I'm so fucking proud of you. (Even who was mentioned, this is for you too)

I was always so scared that people wouldn't like me and that if I said one little thing wrong I was a terrible person, and I learned so much in this one year, that I finally can say, I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of going the lengths I went. There is lots to work on myself, I know there is, but one step at a time and maybe, one day, I might get there. But for now, I'll attempt into just not triggering myself.

-Lucas/Hyper

[cevansbrat0007]

https://x.com/auxgod_/status/1854935706742706397?s=46

ari’s reaction if bird tried to walk out the house with this on 👀

Untitled Sweet Renegade Series Ask & Drabble

Please enjoy the Sweet Renegades Series Drabble found after the cut. Warnings include: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, Ari Being a Possessive Menace, Brat!Reader, Manhandling, Crude Language, and Cursing. Minors DNI.

Listen, Ari considers himself to be a rather progressive man. He has two sisters that he respects and adores. And a little niece that fills him with pride. He plans to teach his nephew about the importance of respecting women - of treating them with the utmost reverence and care.

However, the moment Ari laid eyes on his sweet, stubborn little Bird, it was if something in him snapped. It came from somewhere deep. Primal. And the beast in him demanded that he claim her. Before her, Ari had never really considered himself to be the possessive type. He just assumed that jealousy wasn't a part of his makeup.

But now? Her smile. Her laugh. Her light. Every delicate inch of her gorgeous curvy boy. All of it belongs to him.

She belongs to him - in the most primal, feral sense.

And so, while he wants to encourage Bird as she continues down the path of consistent, healthy body positivity, he's also man enough to admit that that there's no way in hell he'd let her fine ass out of the house wearing a dress like that. And here's why:

"Baby..." He rasps, caging you in as he backs you against the door. "You look fucking stunning." Two thick fingers trail their way down your body, only stopping when he reaches the valley between your breasts. "But I'm afraid I can't let you leave. Not while you're wearin' that."

"What's wrong with it?" Your words come out as a gasp when you feel a hand wind its way into your curls, holding you still as he continues his assault. The seconds drag on as his head dips, his mouth finding yours.

"Because, sweet Bird." Ari presses, forcing you to take his delicious weight. Making your pulse spike as he grinds his increasingly hard cock against your abdomen.

"B-because?"

"Because..." He draws out the word as he wrenches your head back so that he can whisper maddening little love bites along the curve of your jaw. "This is the kinda dress you wear when you're out with your man." You have a hard time breathing as his free hand skims lower before coming to rest on the swell of your bottom.

"Oh yeah?" You continue to goad - against your better judgement.

To be honest, you'd known what you were risking when you saw the dress hanging on the rack. You had no business playing with fire. But that's part of what made all of this so fun.

"Absolutely." Ari's normally bright blue eyes darken with arousal as he watches your chest heave. Almost as if he's imagining what it might be like to slowly peel the garment off you, piece by piece. "Because these hips and that ass - they're enough to give a man ideas."

His soft lips find their way to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver.

"And when they start wantin' to entertain those ideas," he muses, more to himself than you. "I need to be there as your man to shut 'em down."

"I see." A sharp nip of teeth has you clenching your thighs together.

"Because I am the only man who's allowed to know what it's like to bury myself between those luscious thighs." Using two fingers, he tips up your chin, wordlessly demanding that he look you in the eyes. "And only I get to know what you taste like when you cum on my tongue. Which therefore makes me the only man with exclusive rights to your tight, little pussy."

"Okay Beast." You can't help the giggle that bubbles its way out of your throat. "I think you've made your point."

"Have I, little Bird?" He growls, releasing his grip on your chin to capture your wrists, trapping them above your head. "Or do I need to remind you that I'm not the sharing type?"

The steady tick in his jaw lets you know that you and your dress has once again pushed this man to the edge. But the real question was...

Just what did you plan to do about it?

Batting your lashes up at him, you decide it's time to let the brat in you win out once and for all. Go big or go home, you know?

"Eh, it's been awhile, big guy." You purr, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. "I'm thinkin' you might need to refresh my memory."

END

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[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 4, Wave 1, Poll 7

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and round here.

Wei Wuxian-The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

Qualifications:

Goes through a somewhat unethical organ transplant (in that the person he is giving the organ to doesn't realize that's what's going on) where he gives up his "golden core." This is like his center of power and by giving it up, not only is he not able to do most of the more "magic" things he could do before, but he's also noticeably physically weaker and gets injured much more easily (and takes longer to recover) as well as faints more often (iirc he only faints once pre-golden core removal and that was after sustaining major injuries and going on for a significant time without any healing while also fighting and traveling). Like he finds ways around it and invents new methods so that he can still do some things that he did before, just via a very different method. In the show we don't really see any characters who aren't cultivators, or at least part of that world, so Wei Wuxian is like the only character we really get to see without a golden core.

Also gotta say that this boy is severely depressed. Like "I'm-going-to-ask-my-doctor-friend-to-perform-a-mutliple-day-long-surgery-on-myself-in-which-I-will-be-awake-where-she'll-rip-out-the-core-of-my-being-and-transplant-it-into-my-adopted-brother-who-I'll-make-sure-never-finds-out-what-happened-even-though-he'll-come-to-hate-me" depressed. he has no value for his own life other than what he can give to others, even if it's his own body. like I think some fans unfairly classify him as being insane when he's really just depressed as all hell and having the worst possible things happen to him one after another and every time he breaks down it causes more trouble and usually people end up dying because of him.

Mod note: I find it a bit funny that the qualifications are so long and don’t once mention how he qualifies as LGBTQ+

Propaganda:

https://youtu.be/swbXAVADjxY ^ok this clip kinda explains the whole thing better (and obvs spoilers)

https://youtu.be/2wO5nsnkSBk ^and this video is just for fun but it's a little thing about Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng because their relationship makes me unwell

Additional Qualifications/Propaganda by @transparent-internet-maker

Kinda surprised ADHD!Wei Wuxian isn't included I thought that was a popular hc. There are several signs: He seems to forget a lot of things, but at the same time he clearly remembers other things that happened a long time ago. He invented a. lot. of things. His mind is almost never where he physically is and he's really smart in that thinks-way-too-much-out-of-the-box-in-a-short-time way. (1/2)

Then there is the fact that he's actually knowledgable, more than most of the others at times, but we see him doing whatever else he wants to instead of studying more often than not. The inventions point and this put together hint at him not being focused and having hyperfixations. And the general view of not studious but still smarter than everyone else just clear adhd I think. NOT trying to hate anyone, I thought I'd just mention this since I've seen a lot of adhd wwx.

Yoite-Nabari no Ou

Qualifications:

Heavily heavily coded relationship with another boy, canonically intersex and can be read as trans. (implied to be cafab) Suffers from flashbacks, emotional dysregulation, depersonalization due to abuse and neglect. Also terminally ill and progressively loses his sight/taste/hearing and has more trouble getting around and staying awake. Super autism coded, for that matter. To me. And many of the fans actually.

Propaganda:

A very sad boy, in a story about very sad boys fighting for self determination and learning the importance of community. He's a shinobi and can kill people by manipulating their lifeforce from the inside, but he also likes sweets and baseball and mathematics and he communicates like a shy, neglected cat. He's also named after someone's cat. Extremely good character written by an aroace and x-gender author

Anything Else?:

He is the bestest boy ever and should win this tournament by a landslide if the series were more well known

[masterjedilenawrites]

Well this was fun and insanely sweet! The fact you put so much delightful detail into five different scenes is impressive! They each had their charm and make me feel all warm and fuzzy as I get into bed myself for the night! 🥰

If Wrecker hugged me from behind like that - and shirtless… 😳🥺 I probably would’ve been a complete blushing, stuttering mess lmao.

Something about Crosshair just opening up a pocket of blanket next to him to crawl into makes me melt. He’s so soft in his own way!

Echo is an underrated gentleman and I’m 👏🏻 here 👏🏻 for it. Poor guy should’ve got a better rest spot than the rickety chair tho lol

Hunter’s part was so tender. The hand kisses, the whispers, the worry… 🥹 What a sweetheart.

And of course Tech cutting to the chase about his feelings/intentions is the best 😗👌🏻 And then immediately like okay, confession over, please let me solve this problem of you not having a bed now 😆

Speak Now

Word Count: 6.3k Pairing: A section for each of our boys Warnings: fluff and god I did our boys well Summary: As always happens before the Batch left after a visit, you find yourself wishing they didn't have to go. You've grown too attached to them, one in particular. You just didn't realize he'd grown just as attached. He should really say something.

The night was over. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered throughout your apartment resting. It felt good to see them all relaxed enough to sleep somewhere other than the Marauder or their barracks. It felt even better knowing you were a safe space for them.

You’d avoided the question of how long they’d be around this time - as if not asking would extend their answer. Missing them and wishing they wouldn’t leave weighed on you. You knew it was selfish.

They were doing something so important for the Galaxy. The Republic depended on them. Other people’s lives depended on them.

But you wanted them too and some fragment of you needed them too. How could anyone meet them and not become addicted to their presence?

Every time they came back to you, you inevitably indulged yourself in a dream of them tossing aside their duties for a civilian life. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d still occupy a slice of their time. Wouldn’t you?

One of the clones in particular stood out to you. You vied for extra time alone with him amongst the already limited timeframes you were granted. 

Stuck in a daydream of anxiety you stood on your balcony, arms crossed and lost in the lights of the city beyond.

Little did you know you weren’t the only one with a fantasy of a different life - one with you in it.

 The Kaminoans drilled discipline into the clones. Not much of anything served as a temptation for them. Men like Cut were aberrations of their nature, but so were all of the men of Clone Force 99. 

The same man you dreamt of even tasted Cut’s temptation. Seeing you with someone else, seeing someone else by your side, made him realize that he’d like to be the one to stand by your side. And if he couldn’t do that he at least wanted you to know he wished he could be.

WRECKER

When you offered your bed to Wrecker, having Crosshair smashed up against him wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. It wasn’t that he and his brothers hadn’t slept dog-piled together plenty of times, it just seemed natural that sleeping in your bed might come with sleeping with you. 

Something he hadn’t realized he wanted until the idea was presented to him. 

Just like the idea of sleeping beside you, he’d never had much reason to think about your romantic life. Finding out you’d been seeing someone, seeing another man holding you, catapulted the concept into fruition. 

The said man quickly became an ex that night, but it made Wrecker wonder what it’d be like to be the one by your side. To be the one making you smile every day and keeping you warm at night.

Where Crosshair fell asleep almost instantly, Wrecker lay awake wondering where you were going to sleep and what you were going to do when they weren't with you. When he wasn’t with you.

Taking Crosshair’s elbow to the ribs was the last push Wrecker needed to roll out of your bed. Wrecker tiptoed around the rest of his squad scattered about your apartment in search of you.

A cool breeze chilled the skin of his exposed chest and led him to your balcony where you stood facing the city. You were lost in thought and unaware of his presence. Seizing the opportunity, Wrecker slowly padded over to you. 

He got within a step of you and slowly extended his arms out around you. Just for a moment, though, he appreciated how lucky he was to be this close with you. To be able to even think of touching you with no recourse. Then that moment was over and he snatched you up in his arms. 

You barely suppressed a yelp as he hauled your feet into the air. Your giggling echoed through his chest. You didn’t realize he was shirtless until he put you back on solid ground and you twisted around in his arms.

The two of you stood like that, loosely in each other's arms, until your giggles quieted and only the city sounds filtered between you.

Despite your best effort at modesty, your eyes fell to the eye level pec muscles. You’d rarely seen Wrecker out of uniform, let alone half naked. A sight that made you suddenly very thirsty. His muscles flexed, breaking your focus and earning a laugh from Wrecker. 

“Like what you see?” He chuckled as quietly as he could, barely mindful of his brothers inside.

Trying to look as uninterested as possible, you rolled your eyes and stepped back enough for his hands to slip off of your waist. “Show-off,” you mumbled playfully.

You peaked around him, looking for who else was up. “They’re all asleep.” Wrecker answered the obvious question. “I-I…” He fumbled around the reason he was the only one there, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Your face heated as you realized it would just be the two of you. Getting any of Batchers alone was rare given their circumstances. While you’d attempted to before, you’d never managed to get Wrecker to yourself. 

Ignoring how giddy the idea made you, you were quick to worry after why he couldn’t sleep. “Is it the bed?” You nervously asked.

Wrecker blew a raspberry and waved you off, “Your bed is fine.” When you kept staring up at him, silently waiting for further explanation, he tried to casually add, “Just couldn’t stop thinking is all.”

Relieved, you smiled and half-heartedly said, “Oh yeah? A credit for your thoughts.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. The two of you blinked at one another, both a little caught off by the failed attempt. Wrecker tried again, yet still he came up with nothing. 

Wrecker had never been a good liar to begin with and each lie he conjured sounded obvious. So he braced himself for the truth.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” Your voice cracked with surprise.

Instantly regretting his decision, Wrecker stepped back, waving his hands anxiously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You grabbed his wands, stilling him and shutting him up. “You were thinking about me?” You asked, quieter this time.

Wrecker caved at your touch. Weakly smiling, he sighed and admitted, “Yeah, I think about you a lot.”

Surprise overtook you, but that didn’t stop a little smile from bubbling up. Every negative, anxious thought of tomorrow keeping you awake disappeared leaving only a stutter of half words to slip from you. 

Unable to compose your satisfaction with the news, you cleared your throat and replied simply, “Is that so?”

Your reaction widened his smile. Wrecker wasn’t sure what he expected, other than rejection, but it wasn’t bashfulness. Spurred on by the flush coming to your face, he took a step and a chance.

 He let out a soft laugh,“And I think I like you.” Lacing your fingers through his, he lifted one of your hands to his mouth. “That okay with you?”

His lips were hot on the back of your hand. Breathlessly you reassured him, “Of course,” With your free hand you palmed his cheek. Your earlier worry did begin to resurface. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Wrecker’s chest squeezed. He didn’t want to either. He’d rather stay by your side and spend every night with you like this. It wasn’t possible yet, but at least for a night he could.

With hope in his voice, Wrecker asked, “Would you consider coming back to bed with me?”

If it had been anyone else, you might think they were making a pass at you. Between the light pull of Wrecker’s brows and him being, well, Wrecker, the thought barely occurred to you. Not to mention, it did sound much nicer than worrying yourself to exhaustion on the balcony.

So you followed Wrecker back and he slid into your bed, pushing Crosshair back with his hip. Flat on his back, Wrecker extended his arm out to invite you in next to him. Your eyes flit between Wrecker and Crosshair who was now adjusting himself around his brother.

Careful not to disturb the sniper, you gently tucked in next to Wrecker only for him to pull you in tight. He wiggled in place, nestling into an optimally cozy position, before sleepily mumbling to you, “You owe me a credit.”

You didn’t dare speak for fear of waking Crosshair, but you didn’t have to worry long. Crosshair was the one to respond from his side of Wrecker. “Shut it, Wrecker.” He cracked an eye open to lock onto you, “And not a word of this to anyone.”

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair opened his eyes, blinking back into reality tucked in your bed next to Wrecker. He sat up on his elbow, taking a few moments to remember where he was.

He’d fallen asleep so quickly, Crosshair barely remembered lying down. Not that he was surprised. He was at ease in your home, it was one of your effects on him. The other being irrationality. You made him irrational and, at times, distracted. It was the only way he could describe it. 

He cared for little beyond his squad and his missions, but an irrational side of him did wander into thoughts of you between missions. Visiting you settled Crosshair into just another routine - another fact of his life in the GAR. He didn’t care for post mission accolades, but seeing you was an indulgence he never fussed about.

Crosshair had been content to spend the rest of his career oscillating between crushing clankers and spending downtime with you and his brothers. That complacency was shot to shit when the Batch surprised you with a visit and you surprised them with a newly acquired boyfriend.

The memory of seeing that slimebucket with his hands around you heated Crosshair as fast as when he first laid eyes on him.

Fully aware he needed to cool off before he could even think of falling back asleep, Crosshair left bed to step outside. He’d passed the rest of his squad in a beeline for the still open balcony door. Something he was noting to nag you about when you came into his sights, leaning your forearms against the balcony railing and watching the city lights.

Crosshair froze for a moment, wondering how he missed the fact that you weren’t inside. Irrational and distracted, he thought to himself.

“It’s funny.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Crosshair half expected you to be mid conversation on a comm until you peaked back over your shoulder at him.

He walked over to you, pulling up beside you to mirror your position against the balcony. “What’s that?” Crosshair drawled.

Hiding your smile in your shoulder you shook your head and looked back out over the city. “I can always feel when you’re looking at me.”

Pushing himself to full height with a scoff, Crosshair crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Is that an enhanced trait?”

You kept your eyes forward as you smiled and shook your head, as if surprising even yourself. “No enhancements.” You paused, a half thought crossing your mind before you winking in his direction. “Just your effect on me.”

The wink he expected, you were always playful and light. Your words though, short and haphazardly spoken, took Crosshair off guard. They sounded too familiar. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious.

Pinning you with a seriousness that dampened your smile, Crosshair said in a low voice, “Was that his effect?”

The mention of your ex instantly drained you. Rocking back on your feet, you dropped your gaze to the ground for a few beats, really considering how you wanted to play this out. You didn’t want to waste your energy or your time with Crosshair on that prod. 

On a deep breath you stood to your full height and faced him with a tired smile. “I don’t wanna talk about him, Cross.”

His nickname on your tongue almost softened him enough to avoid the subject, but he still pressed you. Using the weight of his hip, Crosshair moved away from the railing in defiance.

“Why don’t you?” There was a challenge in his voice he rarely aimed your way. A shred of cruel teasing bit through his words, “Embarrassed?”

“No.” The word left no room for discussion. You met his challenge with your own, countering, “Why do you want to talk about him?”

Crosshair didn’t answer immediately. That venom of his gone all at once. He held your gaze, suddenly unsure ‘why’ himself. The thought of your ex wasn’t a pleasant one, but a persistent one nonetheless.

When more than a few seconds passed and only silence and staring remained, you squinted briefly before an idea struck you.

A tight lipped grin sprouted over you. Crosshair’s eyes fell to your lips, finding nothing but suspicion in your new look. Meeting your eyes once more he dreaded to ask, “What?”

Your mouth squirmed in a desperate attempt to suppress your growing amusement. You gave him an amused once-over, your gaze trailing from his feet to his head as you stepped in on him. You were close enough now that one wrong sway would put your chest against him.

Crosshair didn’t back down. He was on edge, unsure of what suddenly changed, but he didn’t back off. “What?” He asked, insisting with more annoyance.

“Are you jealous?”

Jealousy was not in his vernacular let alone his nature. Snorting at the very notion, Crosshair opened his mouth to object. Nothing came out. 

Because maybe he wasn’t jealous, but he certainly was possessive. Combined with the irrational streak you gave him, it certainly did look like jealousy.

Having let you cherish the moment for far too long, Crosshair tilted his head sideways to return your once-over before leaning in on you. Clearly entertained, he drawled, “And what if I am?”

You were in each other’s breathing space. One tempting sway and you could taste him. Even after a shower he still smelled like mint and gun oil. Holding your resolve together with nothing but string, you asked in a less than steady voice, “Are you?”

The two of you locked into another silent showdown. On a whim of concession, Crosshair eased off of you. You thought he was going to redirect or bite back but instead he muttered, “Get over it already.”

You stifled a gasp, caught somewhere between laughter and shock. “You’re actually-”

He very nearly regretted his version of admitting his feelings. Rolling his eyes, Crosshair moved around you with your delighted look trailing him. He came to your back and guided you forward with his hands at your elbows.

You gently resisted, craning your neck back to beam up at him, “Where are we going?”

Crosshair couldn’t decide if this was quickly becoming annoying or you were looking more cute with every second your smile grew.

“Bed,” He casually said as he prompted you forward again. 

Your head snapped forward and you quiet until you got to your bed. The one Crosshair was also sharing with Wrecker.

Crosshair said nothing as he got in under the duvet, scooted back into his brother and pulled the covers back when there was enough room for you. You tried not to think about it too much as you crawled in next to Crosshair.

He pulled the covers back up over as he settled in behind you. You both fell silent, allowing the warmth of the moment to sink in.

A low, sleepy groan emanated from behind Crosshair that was followed by Wrecker’s thick arm slinging over the two of you. You went stock still, not sure what to make of the situation.

You opened your mouth to comment but Crosshair cut you short by pulling you in and mumbling, “Think carefully about what you’re going to say.”

You decided to leave it be.

ECHO

Laid back comfortably, eyes shut and good arm resting on his stomach, Echo dozed off while listening to Hunter and Tech chatter. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until he was rolling onto his side and his chair tilted farther back. The shift in balance jolted him straight into a state of alarm and confusion. 

After a few slow breaths, Echo looked around and his brothers were now fast asleep with Hunter taking the couch and Tech on the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair to see down the hallway. It seemed Wrecker and Crosshair were out too.

He was halfway to assuming you’d slept somewhere in your room when he heard the muffled sounds of the city. Figuring you’d left a window open, Echo got up to investigate. You’d gone through the trouble of putting him and his squad up for the night, the least he could do was shut a window for you.

Echo only hoped you felt as cared for as he did. So it was frustrating, to say the least, for Echo to meet the ungrateful scumslug who called himself your boyfriend. He didn’t come across as the brightest man in the Galaxy and insulting you in front of five trained troopers proved that.  His squadmates didn’t pick up on him calling you a ‘barracks bunny,’ but the slight wasn’t lost on Echo. All of his training to remain logical under pressure vanished when he laid your ex flat.

For the rest of the night, Echo circled back to the thought of what happened to you when they left. You weren’t defenseless, but you were alone. That bothered him more than anything.

Instead of an open window, Echo found you alone on the balcony and could only guess how long you’d been out there. Hoping to side step spooking you, Echo softly called out to you from the doorway.

He didn’t entirely succeed in not startling you. It hardly seemed to matter by the smile you turned on him. You put your back to the city and playfully gestured at him, “And why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Echo chuckled. He enjoyed laughing so easily with you. “What are you doing awake?” He asked as he approached.

You debated being honest about the selfish thoughts keeping you up, instead choosing to shrug it off with a half truth, “Couldn’t get settled is all. You?”

Glancing back inside the house, Echo rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I think that chair of yours might have it out for me.”

Instantly, you could see him falling back. “Oh no!” Resting a hand apologetically on your chest, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you.”

Echo scoffed playfully, dismissively gesturing his scomp arm, “Takes more than a chair to take down this trooper.” His features softened the longer he looked at you. The city lights brightened you beyond just your smile. Seeing you safe and smiling satisfied a male side of him.

A chill ran through you and, without thought, Echo came to your side to put his arm around you. Rubbing some warmth into your arm, he suggested, “Why don’t we get you inside?”

You didn’t budge. Looking up at Echo, your smile dimmed as you considered him. He saw a sort of skepticism flicker through you. Unbeknownst to him, you were searching those hazel eyes for an ounce of deceit, or even pity, and only tender honesty stared back at you.

Echo saw your typical confidence wane when your gaze dropped. You looked guilty, but of what was lost on him. His brows pulled together in question. Clones were trained from creation to withstand and divvy interrogations. Gently extracting information not so much.

Treading carefully, Echo gently probed, “What is it?”

Shaking your head, your features pinched and you asked, "Why did you go so far for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Echo countered instantly, not needing a single second to answer. He adjusted his position slightly, reeling back for a better view of your face. “I won’t let someone talk like that to you.”

The answer didn’t satisfy you. As nice as the sentiment was, its inevitably fleeting nature tarnished the moment. Your lips tightened to a thin line. Still not meeting his eyes, you sounded bitter saying, “You can’t always be here, Echo.” 

The truth hurt and it fed the unease eating away at him. He knew what it was like to be alone and he did everything he could to never be that way.

Steadying you by your shoulders, Echo bent down into your line of sight. Exhaling, he admitted, “You’re right and I wish I could be.” Your eyes shot up as he continued, “Just let me do what I can for now.”

He stood to full height, your eyes rising with him. You blinked up at him, repeating back to yourself what he’d said. There was a chance you were reading too much into it, but his words were enough to give you the courage to say, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Echo’s eyes widened, before warming again. “Hopefully a day will come when I won’t have to.”

There was nothing to hide your blatant hope in asking, “Do you mean that?” 

Pivoting to your side, Echo slid his arm back around you. Echo cocked his head back, brandishing a roguish grin as he said, “I’ve never meant anything more. Now let’s get inside already.” On the way in, his hand slipped to your waist and he muttered under his breath, “Let’s just hope that chair can handle two.”

Tech and Hunter were still fast asleep when you made it inside. You followed him to the recliner, watching him carefully position himself. Barely keeping the furniture balanced, Echo twisted around and made enough room for you to fit in. It took you squirming over his legs and nestling into the crook between him and the chair to get situated.

The two of you had never been this close for this long and the only thing you could think about was the fact that he wore aftershave. He tucked you under his chin, unintentionally giving you the perfect view of his neck. 

You turned your face into him, pressing a kiss into the crook of his neck and mumbling a thank you to him. One he answered by pulling you closer and returning the gesture.

HUNTER

From your couch, Hunter listened to you move around your apartment. He was intent on seeing you turn in for the night, but that moment never came. At some point between resting and tracing your movements, Hunter dozed enough for you to slip by him. The sound of your balcony door opening snapped him back to reality.

Hunter sat up, thumbing his bandana out of his eye and keenly extending his senses. You definitely weren’t inside. Knowing he wouldn’t get any rest until he knew you were safe and asleep, Hunter rose to find you. Even then, sleep might evade him.

He had a feeling he’d be losing a little more sleep after this evening with you. 

When they left for another mission, Hunter focused on the objective. Seeing you was always something he looked forward to, but he couldn’t dwell on what was behind him. Anything other than setting his sights ahead put his squad in danger. Besides, Hunter knew he was going to keep the Galaxy safe and by extension that meant you too.

This time around challenged that perspective. Your jackass of an ex had been easy to chase off, but what about when they left? Prior to seeing a man mistreat you, Hunter never doubted your ability to survive on your own. By your own admission you’d done so most of your life. 

Even after the encounter with your ex Hunter didn’t doubt you. 

He doubted the people around you. People who saw all you had to offer and wanted to use that to their advantage. In the end, Hunter wasn’t sure what he hated more: the thought of you getting close to ill-intentioned people or realizing it couldn’t be him.

Finding you alone on your balcony only compounded his worries. You were alone in the cold, and it finally occurred to him that his squad took up every viable place to sleep. How was he any different from others taking advantage of you?

That resentful part of him took in the view of you against the city and wished it was a sight exclusively for him. For a moment he let himself believe it was. If only for the night.

Hunter slowly approached you and quickly realized you were mumbling to yourself. Hoping to afford you the privacy of your thoughts, Hunter cut you off by whispering, “I know you don’t think I’ll let you stay out here all night.”

You jumped at his voice, nearly colliding into him as you spun around. He was only a foot or two away, angling a smile down at you. Breathing into calm, you gave him a light shove as you glanced around for anyone else.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,”  you protested, the beginnings of a grin betraying your feigned annoyance.

“Then don’t sneak out like that.” He retorted lightly, nodding towards the open door behind him. Hunter looked at the city beyond you, wondering if he could spot where you’d been fixated. Drifting back to you, Hunter asked, “What are you doing out here?”

Your smile flinched, but you shrugged with a casual shake of your head. “Just needed some air.”

Hunter nodded, clearly only halfway believing you. While convincing you to go back inside crossed his mind as the right thing to do, he opted for spending more time with you. “Care for some company?”

Your eyes flitted between his, ultimately shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You said, your tone scolding. Stepping into him, you pressed your hands to his stomach in attempts to redirect him inside. “You need sleep.”

He relished the feeling of your touch before tenderly gripping your wrists. You stopped pushing, but passed him a confused look. Hunter swept his thumbs over the soft skin of your wrist, acutely aware of your quickened pulse beneath his fingers.. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You tugged your hands down, putting his hands in yours. On a tight grip you pulled him in, the force of it bringing his face an inch from yours. “Someone has to,” you insisted softly.

For all the fun they brought you it was so easy to forget that to most, Hunter and his squad were military assets. Outside of their worth in battle, little else about them mattered to the Galaxy. There was little you could offer them outside of occasional respite and hopeful thoughts and hope it meant something.

In his eyes, you saw the same thing that grew in you. Hesitancy - he was holding back, you both were. Neither of you spoke as you stood there, breathing in each other's presence. Slowly, Hunter raised your clasped hands to his lips, maintaining eye contact until his lips gently touched your skin.

“And who worries about you?” Hunter’s lips brushed your skin as he whispered.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” you countered.

The question halted the sergeant momentarily. It wasn’t that you were wrong, but that wasn’t his primary concern. Lowering your hands, Hunter sighed. "Worrying is nothing if I can't protect you."

The weight of his admission, hidden behind the hesitancy you glimpsed before, warmed you but looked heavy on his mind. You couldn’t fight. You were no trooper and absolutely no Jedi. But you could do one thing..

His hand was still holding yours when you reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the outline of the tattoo on his cheek. You offered him a broad, reassuring smile, taking a moment to admire the moment.

“Hunter,” his name was a hum in your voice. “I can protect myself.” He immediately opened his mouth, surely an objection not far behind, but you outspoke him. “Protect those who can’t protect themselves and when this war is over…” You paused, taking a deep breath as you searched for the right words. “Well, I'll still be here when it is.”

It may not have been poetry, but the lightness in his smile, meager and fleeting though it was, told you that burden was a little lighter.

“Come with me.” He whispered between you.

You instinctively pulled back. Leaving Coruscant, joining him in the stars - it was absurd. “Hunter, I can’t-”

“To the couch,” he clarified with a soft chuckle..

Heat rushed your cheeks at the misunderstanding. Clearing your throat you nodded, “Okay.”

He gave your hands a squeeze, held onto one, and guided you back inside. The apartment was silent, the living room dark and you were thankful for Hunter’s senses. He led you to the couch, motioning for you to go first.

You slid into place, pressing your back into the couch as Hunter joined you, caging you between his body and the couch. A vague attempt at watching over you for the night. 

Hunter pulled his bandana down over his eyes as he settled in around you.  Speaking in a tone low enough for only you to hear, he said, “I can’t promise the next one will get off so easily.”

The words were both a joke and a threat, wrapped in his unique brand of dry humor. You lightly scoffed, wrapping an arm over his chest and drawing him closer. “There won’t be a next one. Not until the war is over,” you mumbled into his chest.

TECH

Lying in a nest of blankets on your floor, Tech replayed the evening while your apartment settled into silence. Despite having found you and spent the evening in your company, a persistent restlessness gnawed at him, preventing any sense of ease.

So, he scoured the night’s happenings for the piece that kept his peace at bay.

The search for you had been brief and relatively straightforward—a minor challenge that excited Tech. Discovering you in a lounge, especially clad in an open-backed dress, had been a surprise that quickened his pulse. However, it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the sight of a morally dubious man claiming to be your partner.

While he found no logic in your accepting amity, let alone intimacy, from a man who either lacked the capability, knowledge, or desire to measure up to you, the man was easily dissuaded and you were safe. Logically, there was no reason for lingering concern.

Spending the evening in your quarters should’ve dispelled any remaining apprehension. Your life was not at risk. In fact, there had been no mortal danger at all. Everything worked out. His search had been successful. You were safe.

And yet, he was left with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty - a feeling he was less than comfortable with.

After returning to your apartment, Tech busied himself by installing several security enhancements and scrutinizing local crime statistics. Beyond that, there was little else he could do for you. You were adaptable and resourceful, he would not insult you by thinking you could not take care of yourself.

He also wouldn’t insult you by rejecting the makeshift bed you offered him. Though, by Tech’s surmising, that left nowhere for you to sleep. A theory proved right by you leaving Wrecker and Crosshair in your room, sneaking past the room where he lay and back out of sight.

Something wound tight in Tech’s chest. In a move of innate curiosity, he swept his blankets aside and followed in your footsteps. He was keen to see where you had gone or to just have eyes on you again.

You were a few silent steps ahead, leaving a cracked balcony door as the only indication of your path. Finding you lingering at the edge of your balcony stopped him at the door. It was the tension leaving his chest that struck him.

The physical relief was recognizable - the very same he felt each time they found you and the direct opposite of the pressure he felt meeting your former partner. The pressure was identical in the moments you were out of view. 

Tech adjusted his goggles as the pattern became clear. At the core of it all, you were the variable between the fleeting sensations. Identifying the truth of his unease came with the inevitable frustration of being unable to alter the circumstances. In the end, there was only one path forward.

He made no attempt to hide his presence, watching you stiffen as he drew near. Anchoring yourself to the railing, you leaned forward on an inhale and rocked back on the exhale. 

Unsure how to interpret your going taut, he asked outright, “Do you… wish to be alone?” Eyes fixed on the city you shook your head only once in response. Following your line of sight, Tech looked over the city and saw nothing of note.

A distant shout had him reaching for his datapad, something he left beside his nest of blankets. In lieu of reading through statistics Tech tuned his goggles to survey the street below. “The locality of your home is not what I’d deem a secure district.”

“It was probably just some drunk idiot,” you mumbled, not dissuading Tech from continuing to look around. Glancing sideways at him you had to smile at the seasoned soldier gripping the balcony and seemingly so intrigued by city life. Softly scoffing, you said, “There’s nothing to worry about, Tech.” 

“On the contrary,” Tech replied simply. Pulling his attention back to you, he kept one hand on the railing and said in a serious tone, “Your balcony makes you susceptible to intrusion and you’ve already fallen in with unsavory company.”

The last bit stung, but he wasn’t wrong. The concern, blunt as it may be, did feel nice.

Placing your hand over his, you tried to reassure him, “I’m fine, aren’t I?” His pursed into a thin line, clearly unwavering. Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you added lightly, “Besides, you have more important things to worry about.”

Tech’s head tilted to the side, his eyes momentarily averting, but returned still as serious as before. “My duty to the Republic does take precedence, but that does not make your life any less important to me.”

You blinked once, then twice, absorbing his words. A part of you, a large part in fact, hoped the words carried more weight than just comfort. 

You must’ve looked as taken off guard as you felt for Tech to ask, “Does that surprise you?”

You opened your mouth, ready to make a denial, only to snap your mouth shut again. Once more you tried to speak but only, “A little,” came out. The two words tasted harsh, as if you were making light of the situation and of his feelings. Stepping closer, you lowered your voice and quickly added, “You mean so much to me. I just… I -” In an uncharacteristic fit of stammering you spat out, “I just didn’t think you cared that much.”

Tech’s gaze fell to where you held his hand, his brows furrowing behind his goggles. You felt his hand twitch beneath yours before it fully twisted, placing his palm against yours. For a few moments, you stood like that, hand in hand with his gaze locked on your hold.

His focus remained there, his thumb starting gentle paths as he slowly said, “I admit that I… only recently came to the conclusion myself.”

“What changed?” His eyes snapped to yours at your question.

Tech’s brows lifted and along with a corner of his lips. “It would appear the sight of you in the company of your former partner was not one I found enjoyable.”

The realization that all your hopes had rung true left you breathless. A warm flush spread across your cheeks, accompanied by a smile that not only curved your lips but also reached your eyes.

You laced your fingers into his, eagerly confessing, “Tech, I-”

“Where do you intend to sleep?” Tech cut you off with no thought to what you’d attempted to say.

Lost in the heat of the moment you took a moment to blink back into the present. “I’m sorry?”

Tech pointed a finger towards the door going inside. “You gave up every viable sleeping arrangement. Where will you sleep?”

Instead of admitting your previous intentions of avoiding sleep, you shrugged with an amused sigh. Hands still intertwined, you stepped back, tilted your head back and chuckled. “I was playing it by ear.”

“There is enough room beside me for you to fit.” Tech said matter of factly. A playful glint passed through his eyes. “Shall we find out?” You immediately conceded, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

As per usual, Tech was right. There was more than enough room for you both to fit into his makeshift bed. Tech adjusted the pillows to his liking and laid back, the both of you looking up at the ceiling in silence. Eventually Tech turned with his back to you, seeking some reprieve from the air between you.

Taking the opportunity before you, you scooted in behind him. He was nearly a foot taller than you, but somehow you fit in nicely behind him. He said little, simply adjusting back against you and positioning your arms around him. 

Just as he settled in, he started twisting in place, saying, “I should make note of such a significant moment.”

You answered his movements by tightening your arms around him. “Tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

He didn’t struggle against you, choosing to settle back again. “I fear that it will be harder than I originally imagined.”

tags: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @jetii @hshfsjzjsgj @zahmaddog @heidnspeak

an: i realize I've missed some folks over time, let me know if you want on the tag list.

[b1xi]

───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Haikyuu(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count: 4242

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

"Hinata-san, slow down! You could fall," you warned, trying to keep up as you ran alongside him towards the gym. His speed was impressive, and you found yourself dodging other students in the crowded hallway, struggling not to lose sight of him.

"Then I'll get my revenge on that King!" Hinata shouted with determination, making an energetic leap just before reaching the gym entrance.

You watched the scene in disbelief. "Is he really having an internal monologue right now...?" you murmured to yourself, almost amused by his intensity. But before you could fully process it, Hinata came to a sudden stop at the entrance, and you found yourself halting abruptly beside him, trying to catch your breath.

"Now what...?" you muttered, frustrated, as you noticed the reason for his sudden stop. Inside the gym, a tall boy with black hair was looking at both of you with an expression that was somewhere between confusion and disapproval, as if he’d just found a pair of intruders in his territory. Catching his gaze, you quickly tried to fix your messy hair after the run, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Hinata, for his part, wore an expression that seemed like a strange mix of dread and restrained excitement. As if facing his greatest challenge, he stayed silent, his eyes locked on the tall boy in front of you, clearly caught up in some kind of internal conflict.

"What are you doing here?!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the empty gym. It seemed like he was facing some kind of nemesis.

You watched the scene with a mix of curiosity and discomfort, wondering what kind of relationship existed between them. "Do you know each other?" you asked, trying to understand the situation, but Hinata, absorbed in his standoff, seemed to ignore your question entirely.

The tall boy, who was looking at you both with a calm but cold expression, finally spoke, his words direct and emotionless. "I saw you last year," he said in a tone that showed disinterest, barely looking at Hinata. "I don’t remember your name."

Hinata, however, didn’t let the comment slide. "My name is Shoyo Hinata!" he retorted, indignant, raising his voice. "I doubt you remember the team you beat in the first match!"

You looked at Hinata, finally understanding the origin of his hostility. The rivalry between them didn’t seem recent; there was a history that still weighed on his mind. But the tall boy, unfazed, calmly interrupted him before Hinata could continue.

"Of course I remember you," he said in a quiet but firm voice.

"What?" Hinata clenched his fists, taking a fighting stance that was more clumsy than intimidating. "Do you want to fight?" he challenged, oblivious to the fact that the height and strength difference between them didn’t play in his favor. You could see that, even though he was angry, Hinata didn’t realize just how disadvantaged he was.

"Hinata-san!" you intervened, fearing more for him than for his opponent. You knew well that the tall boy had the ability to turn your friend into rubble if he decided to take the provocation seriously.

The tall boy observed him in silence for a moment, showing not the slightest emotion, before letting his words fall with unyielding harshness. "You were pathetic," he said bluntly, and although he said it with absolute calm, the comment seemed to hang in the air, freezing it.

Hinata, still frowning and with clenched fists, seemed torn between frustration and determination. His initial surprise had given way to a mix of disbelief and restrained anger. "D-don’t make fun of me!" he exclaimed, clearly upset. "Yeah, we got crushed last time, but I’m not going to lose again! It’s something I promised myself…" His words came out rushed, but the firmness in his voice was unmistakable. However, soon something else crossed his mind, and he added, with the tone of someone trying to understand the impossible, "But…what are you doing here? How am I supposed to beat you if we’re on the same team? You should be at a school with a good team!"

You were surprised by Hinata’s sincerity. The intensity of his frustration spoke of something deeper; it seemed like this boy meant much more to him than just a simple rival.

The tall boy let out a sigh filled with resignation and bitterness. "The best school in the prefecture rejected me," he confessed, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

The revelation left both of you speechless. Hinata and you exchanged a glance, trying to process what that implied. How was it possible that someone with such a commanding presence on the court hadn’t been accepted onto a major team?

"They…they didn’t accept you?" The question escaped your lips before you thought it through, while Hinata, even more perplexed, exclaimed in confusion, "Even though you’re the 'King of the Court'?"

"King of the Court." The nickname echoed in your mind, strange and a bit grandiose. But seeing the hardened expression on the tall boy’s face, you had no doubt that, to him, that title was both a distinction and a burden.

The mention of the "King of the Court" had clearly caused annoyance in the tall boy, who frowned angrily and shot you both a withering look. "Don’t ever call me that again!" he growled, leaving a palpable tension in the air that unsettled both Hinata and you.

Before you could respond, voices filtered in from the nearby hallway, approaching quickly.

"The Kitagawa’s first setter is on our team," said a deep voice, with a mocking tone, "but he’s arrogant."

"Don’t try to intimidate him, all right," another voice chimed in, softer but carrying a slight reprimand.

Hinata, always brimming with enthusiasm, looked toward the hallway, completely curious. "What’s going on?" he murmured to you, edging closer, but stopped when he saw that the conversation continued.

Soon, a group of boys appeared at the entrance to the gym, their silhouettes standing out in the dim light. One of them, tall, with a calm but firm expression, stepped forward. Beside him, a boy with ash-colored hair and another with a shaved head completed the trio.

"Well, well, well. So you guys are..." The shaved-head boy, with a defiant attitude, tried to approach you, but was stopped dead in his tracks by the brown-haired boy, who firmly grabbed him by the collar of his jacket.

"Are you Kageyama?" the brown-haired boy asked, his gaze fixed on the tall, black-haired boy, who, visibly tense, stared back at him.

The atmosphere became even denser with the arrival of the third-year senpais, whose presence and energy were hard to ignore. Everything seemed to pause for a moment as the tension between the volleyball players grew.

Hinata, seeing the opportunity to get noticed, started moving back and forth, eager to attract the attention of the third-years, gesturing exaggeratedly in an attempt to win their favor.

However, it wasn’t just Hinata acting. Determined to make your presence felt, you quickly approached him and, without warning, gave him a firm tap on the back of the neck. "That’s for ignoring me," you said, your tone playful but somewhat ironic, stepping back from him with a slight smile on your face.

The atmosphere in the gym grew even more tense as all eyes turned to you after your little tap on Hinata’s neck. Quickly, he stepped in front of you, protecting you without thinking, and while you were grateful, you couldn’t help but smile at his impulsive gesture.

"Ah, you, the number 1 shorty," said the shaved-head boy, pointing at Hinata. If you remembered correctly, his name was Tanaka.

"So the other candidate is Hinata... is it you?" they asked, their tone a mix of curiosity and a hint of disbelief. "What a surprise. I see, so you two came to Karasuno."

Once again, you felt left out of the conversation, watching as the focus shifted entirely to them. It seemed like Tanaka, Daichi, and Sugawara shared memories of their past encounter with Hinata and Kageyama. You stayed a step back as they began exchanging jokes and comments, as if you weren’t even there.

However, the situation tensed again when Kageyama, in his usual direct style, told Hinata he better have improved his techniques because if not, it would be a waste of time. The dry tone of his voice contrasted with Hinata's vibrant energy, who, though somewhat surprised by the remark, remained firm.

"Hey, you’re not enemies anymore, volleyball is a team sport," Daichi intervened with a calm voice, but his words were quickly drowned out by Hinata.

The tension in the air was palpable. Daichi tried, unsuccessfully, to calm things down, but Hinata’s words, filled with seriousness and indignation, cut off any attempt at mediation. "He challenged you!" he shouted, and his voice, full of determination and a touch of desperation, made the atmosphere even thicker. The desire to prove something was clear in his words.

Tanaka, seeing the growing tension, tried to divert the attention to Daichi’s attempt at reconciliation. "Hey, Daichi-san is talking!" he exclaimed, but the clamor between the two young players continued to grow.

Kageyama, as expected, didn’t hold back. "You’re challenging me to what?" he retorted, his voice relentless, responding to Hinata’s provocation with the same intensity. His expression remained cold, as if this were just a game.

"To volleyball, obviously!" Hinata didn’t hesitate, his challenge clear and direct. The atmosphere between them grew even tenser, and the situation was on the verge of exploding.

You felt uncomfortable seeing how Daichi’s interventions were completely ignored. You thought maybe it was better to step back before things got out of hand, but something kept you there. You couldn’t leave Hinata to deal with this alone, even though you had no interest in volleyball.

The rivalry became even more charged when Kageyama questioned how Hinata expected to challenge him in a one-on-one match. "How do you expect to challenge me one-on-one?" the question came out of his mouth in a challenging tone, which only fueled the flames of the confrontation.

At that moment, a figure appeared in the doorway. "Why is there so much noise?" The voice of the Deputy Director or teacher, you couldn't tell for sure, momentarily halted the verbal exchange. "I hope you're not fighting," they continued, their tone of authority ingraining each word as they approached with a firm step.

Instinctively, you hid behind Sugawara, trying to find a way to avoid being linked to the chaos unfolding. This was your first day at Karasuno, and the last thing you wanted was to get into trouble with one of the school’s authority figures. But, like you, Hinata and Kageyama seemed completely unaware of the Deputy Director's presence. Their rivalry was stronger than anything else at that moment.

"I'll prove I'm not the same as before," Hinata said, defiantly, without a hint of doubt in his voice. Kageyama accepted the challenge, ready to show that, despite the rivalry, there was something deeper behind their competitiveness. Both of them knew this wasn’t just a simple confrontation; it was a test of skill, of growth.

As the situation unfolded, you found yourself in an internal dilemma. Should you stay and support Hinata, or just leave? The truth was, you had no particular interest in volleyball, but the loyalty you felt toward your friend kept you there, watching in silence.

The battle between them continued, with neither yielding. Kageyama, with his precision, and Hinata, with his unstoppable energy, collided with each pass, with each attempt to block. The others watched in fascination, keeping their distance, not interfering in the direct clash between the two.

"Hinata-san!" you exclaimed, worried, as your friend fell to the ground after trying to dodge a powerful shot from Kageyama. The fall was hard, and your instinct was to run to him, but you stopped yourself when you saw him get up quickly, his determination as strong as ever.

"One more!" Hinata yelled, ignoring the pain and fatigue, getting back on his feet with an unwavering energy. Despite the hard impact, his spirit never wavered. His decision was clear: no matter how many times he fell, he would keep fighting.

Daichi tried once more to get Hinata and Kageyama’s attention, his tone both stern and patient. "Hey, that's enough!" he insisted, but his words seemed to fade into the air as the two players ignored any attempt to moderate the situation.

The Deputy Director, visibly upset, shot a disapproving look at Daichi. "They don't even listen to their captain? This is going to be a problem," he commented critically, causing Daichi to tense up under the scrutiny.

"So Daichi is the captain..." you thought, watching as he, despite his calm and kind nature, seemed to have a significant challenge dealing with such intense personalities. However, that same calmness made him a reliable presence, and for a moment, you wondered how far his patience would go with these energetic boys.

The practice continued when Kageyama, completely focused, prepared to make another pass. This time, the ball veered to the side of the court, an unexpected shot that, however, Hinata chased with determination. Hinata’s speed and reflexes almost made you cheer for him, but fate had other plans. Just at the last moment, the ball hit his face with such precision that it bounced directly into the Deputy Director's head, knocking off his toupee.

The gym went dead silent. Eyes froze in time, everyone holding their breath. Instinctively, you placed your hands over your mouth, trying to suppress a laugh that was threatening to burst out.

"He wears a toupee?" Kageyama murmured, approaching Hinata with disbelief.

Hinata, still stunned by the turn of events, whispered back, "Didn’t you notice? We all saw it at the entrance ceremony."

The situation became even more surreal when Tanaka, despite his efforts, let out a muffled laugh. "Guys... shut up..." he pleaded, trying to control his own laughter, though it was almost impossible.

"Tanaka, you shut up too!" Sugawara tried to bring order, though his tone betrayed that he too was struggling against laughter.

Everyone made visible efforts to contain themselves as the head Deputy Director straightened his jacket, trying to regain some dignity. Finally, his gaze landed on the captain. "Sawamura-kun, come here," he asked firmly before leaving the gym.

After a few minutes of waiting, Daichi returned and, without saying a word, lined up the team. You found yourself between Hinata and Kageyama, waiting with a mixture of anticipation and tension as Sawamura prepared to make the announcement.

With controlled calm, Daichi broke the silence. "Luckily, he won’t punish us, nor will he ask us to apologize," he informed, relaxing the tension in the room. Immediately, everyone exhaled in relief, until he added: "But we agreed we didn’t see anything."

Exchanges of glances passed between the team members. Keeping the secret didn’t seem like a problem for anyone; after all, it had been a pretty funny incident. However, as soon as Daichi spoke again, another small dispute broke out between Hinata and Kageyama.

"This is because you couldn’t receive a serve... you’re terrible!" Kageyama accused, turning to Hinata with a serious expression. "Didn’t you say you were different this time? I must have been a fool for believing it!"

Hinata, not missing a second, countered, looking for an ally. "You talk too much, right, Y/N?" he said, hoping for your support.

With a sigh and some irritation, you replied bluntly: "Hey, don’t drag me into this."

Just when the tension between the two seemed to rise again, Daichi raised his voice, causing both of them to fall silent immediately. "Listen well," he said in an authoritative tone, impossible to ignore. "I don’t know why you came to Karasuno, but I want to believe you have the desire to win." With his arms crossed and a serious look, he continued: "A few years ago, Karasuno was one of the best teams in the prefecture. We even made it to the national tournament. However, today we’re among the top eight, nothing special. Other schools call us 'the fallen giant' or 'the wingless crow.'"

Daichi continued explaining the history of the team, its decline, and its potential, in a passionate and motivational speech. Although the sincerity of his words was evident, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander a little; after all, Sawamura’s speech seemed directed at the players who shared his fervor for volleyball. However, you couldn’t ignore the determination you saw in Hinata and Kageyama’s eyes; for them, those words seemed to spark a flame.

Daichi continued his speech, finally approaching where you, Hinata, and Kageyama were standing. However, before you could fully understand the situation, you felt a slight tug on the sleeve of your sweater: Tanaka had discreetly pulled you aside, leaving you at a distance from the scene unfolding.

You watched as Daichi, with a serious and determined expression, focused his attention solely on Hinata and Kageyama. In a firm, unquestionable tone, he delivered his decision: "Until you two get along, we don’t need you on the team." And with that, he closed the door in their faces, leaving them outside the gym.

"Y/N-san!" you heard Hinata’s desperate call from the other side of the door, perhaps hoping you’d intervene for them. However, you remained where you were, aware that there was nothing you could do. Daichi had been clear, and he didn’t seem like the type of person who would change his mind easily.

You sighed, suddenly feeling in an uncomfortable position. Great, you thought, now I’m alone with three third-year students... Hinata, this is all because of your competitive spirit. You threw a frustrated glance at the door, silently wondering how everything had escalated to this point.

Tanaka and Sugawara offered friendly smiles, while Daichi watched the door, clearly waiting for his words to sink in with the two rookies on the other side. After a moment, Daichi seemed to notice your presence and turned to you with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry about all this," he said, looking down at a piece of paper in his hand, seemingly a list of club members. After scanning for your name without success, he looked back at you with a slight confusion. "I’m sorry, but… I don’t see your name on the list. Are you new?"

The question reminded you of why you were there in the first place. "Oh, right, sorry," you replied, feeling a faint blush on your cheeks. "I’m not signed up, I just came to see what the volleyball club was like." Nervously, you put a hand to the back of your neck and introduced yourself: "My name is Y/N Y/LN." You gave a small bow as a gesture of respect.

Daichi gave you a calm smile, perhaps noticing your nervousness. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sawamura Daichi," he introduced himself formally. Then, he pointed to his companions.

"I’m Koshi Sugawara," the young man with ash-colored hair chimed in, offering you a kind and genuine smile. "Nice to meet you."

Finally, the guy with a shaved head took an exaggerated, proud stance, hands on his hips. "I’m Ryunosuke Tanaka!" he exclaimed loudly, his energy contagious. "But you can call me Tanaka-senpai."

Sugawara rolled his eyes with an amused smile. "Don’t mind him, Y/N," he joked, earning a mock disappointed look from Tanaka, whose shoulders dramatically dropped.

"So, Y/N, do you play volleyball?" Daichi brought your attention back to him, picking up a ball from the floor and looking at you with curiosity.

"Oh, no!" you responded quickly, shaking your hands in denial. "Well, I used to play occasionally at my old school, but honestly, I’m terrible." The last thing you wanted was for these three to see your mediocre skills at any sport.

Daichi nodded, a look of understanding on his face. "Well, maybe we could ask Kiyoko to show you the open spots on the team; maybe one of them will interest you." He suggested, passing the ball to Sugawara.

Before you could respond, you heard a shout from the other side of the door. "Please let me in! Let me play volleyball!" Hinata’s pleading voice was unmistakable. "I promise I’ll get along with Kageyama, please!"

Sugawara sighed and gave Daichi a knowing look. "Are you sure about this, Daichi? After all, they’re still part of the team," he suggested gently. "Teams bond over time, don’t they?"

Daichi nodded thoughtfully, though his expression remained firm. "I know… but..." His response was interrupted when a loud noise came from the other side of the door, followed by a groan from Hinata.

You frowned and raised your voice, shouting a warning through the door. "Hey, don’t hurt him, emo!" You hadn’t known Hinata for long, but that didn’t mean you’d let Kageyama take advantage of his height and skills.

"I’m sorry, I promise I’ll get along with him," Kageyama responded from the other side, though his tone didn’t sound entirely convincing. Sugawara tried to hide a smile at the dynamic between the two. "Let me join the club!"

Sawamura walked up to the door and opened it just enough to peek his face through. "Really?" He gave Kageyama a firm look, and Kageyama hesitated under the intensity of his gaze. It really didn’t seem easy to lie to Daichi’s face.

Kageyama sighed in resignation before muttering, "If I had to cooperate with him in a match, I’d prefer to receive, set, and spike all by myself." The confession made his pride clear, and you couldn’t help but think about how stubborn he was.

With a sigh, Daichi closed the door again. While you waited, you sat on the floor, trying to distract yourself from the boredom and took out your PSP from your bag, ready to pass the time until Shimizu arrived. You didn’t know anyone in the other clubs, except Nayuta, and the last thing you wanted was to spend your afternoons surrounded by outdated reading.

As the others continued their practice, you occasionally looked up from the screen and watched the game. The energy and coordination of the players were evident; every movement seemed carefully calculated, though some still showed the awkwardness typical of beginners. Daichi led with patience, offering corrections and encouraging his teammates, while Sugawara and Tanaka kept the atmosphere light with jokes and smiles.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Tanaka, full of energy, rushed toward the entrance and hastily opened it with contagious enthusiasm. When you looked up, you noticed a young woman had just entered. She had a calm elegance, and her beauty stood out even in the simplicity of her sports uniform. Her serene eyes and confident posture conveyed a calm and assured presence; it had to be Kiyoko Shimizu.

For a moment, the room seemed to fall silent, as if her arrival captured everyone’s attention. Tanaka, visibly impressed, tried not to let his enthusiasm spill over while welcoming her, but his expression betrayed him: admiration was evident in every word and gesture.

"Kiyoko-san," Daichi said, walking up to her with a smile, then, upon noticing you, gestured for you to join them. "This is Y/N, who’s interested in joining the club."

With a slight nod, you greeted her. "Hello," you said, feeling a faint warmth in your cheeks under the serene and deep gaze of her blue eyes.

Kiyoko returned your smile, her voice calm and professional. "Hello, Y/N. Here are some of the positions we have available. Take your time to choose the one that suits you best." She handed you a sheet with the names and descriptions of the open roles in the club.

You thanked her for the gesture and took the sheet, reading each position carefully. You quickly discarded any option that involved direct contact with the ball; the idea of playing intimidated you a little, and you preferred something less demanding in terms of sports skills. Finally, your gaze landed on an option that seemed manageable: assistant coach. It sounded reasonable: it involved observing the playing style of rival teams, organizing practices, and making strategic notes. Nothing too complex, and interesting enough to keep your attention.

After reflecting for a moment, you returned to Kiyoko. "I think I’ll go for this one," you said, pointing to the position on the sheet you were holding. Kiyoko examined your choice and nodded with approval.

"I think that’s a good option," she replied as she wrote your name on her clipboard, "though, as you may already know, we don’t currently have a coach, so there won’t be many specific tasks for you at first. But you can help with other organizational aspects in the meantime."

"That’s fine, I have no problem with that," you answered, not too concerned with the temporary void in activities. In fact, the idea of a quiet start allowed you to adapt at your own pace and still have time for other things if needed.

[ooftale]

This game, god I love this game

ok so Im copying and pasting the rant for the game under the cut + the alt vers, PLEASE Im just expressing my love for the game in it but it's too late for me to rewrite the whole thing

I wish Tumblr would let me post with music like Insta,,, this is a zillion times better with the "Niko and the World Machine" song gah

God this game is a masterpiece though, OK if u wanna read more do it under here:

OKAY here's the rant!!

oh my god i fucking LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH. I SWEAR. I CANNOT FUCKING EXPRESS. MY LOVE. FOR THIS GAME. Almost a year has passed since my first One Shot Post (doesn't apply to Tumblr, last One Shot post here is more recent) and almost a year has passed since my first playthrough

It wasn't really a blind playthrough, iirc i already knew lots of stuff about the story, ending and even the solstice run itself, too, it was already part of my interests to an extent, but I didn't know or remembered the details, and experiencing it myself still felt like a fully blind Playthrough (gotta again thank my shitty memory too), and was it freaking beautiful,,, plus, i finished it around xmas time, which is like my fave period of the year, so!! I still remember i got a photo of the TV while I was playing, there were gorgeous purple lights, both from LEDs and both from the game, since it was becoming dark outside, with little xmas lights around,, gah this game holds such a special place in my heart, I don't think any other game captured my love as much as this one, SURE, Im a big lover of many MANY games, and this one isn't even the first indie rpg i ever got into (hello Undertale and deltarune), and while those are very special to me as they're some of my first interests, OneShot is just a whole another type of special, a special special if you will

And recently I've seen my friend play it blind for the first time, and as I was (Awesomely) backseating, I got to basically relive it, in a way, and I always get a little phase for it after reseeing content of it, so here I am, drawing one of my personal favorite portions of the game! Sorry for the unusual type of rant I did this time, but I just. Argh. This game, dammit

Also fun fact, so many things about this game, from the 2014 version, to songs, to imagery, to scenes, freak me so much out or make me feel so weird I feel like I need to puke

Gotta love it