#but there's something about the organized coming together of it

[smallnico]

i'm literally so flattered by this. i wish i'd come up with a more thought-out argument so i could properly fight your student. i can do the counterargument now if you'd like.

i'm not scared of generative ai. i'm genuinely concerned for the impact it'll have on the neurological development of young people if they become overexposed to the instant gratification of "bringing their ideas to life" and never practice or develop the skills and labour actually associated with creating something from nothing. it means that if the ai gives you dogshit (and it will), you don't have the ability to fix it, because you're so alienated from the process of creating (writing an essay, drawing a picture, organizing a playlist, composing a song, listening to and analyzing and summarizing the art you're examining) that you don't know what isn't working or how to make it work correctly. if you don't learn how to analyze, if you don't train your brain to do these things, they don't stop needing to be done. you will be dependant on ai, or on others to do these things for you. others, you can sometimes trust, but it really helps to be able to really grok the difference between a grifter, an ignorant person, and a person who knows what they're talking about -- and again, the more you alienate yourself from the construction of their arguments, the less you are able to take them apart and see what isn't adding up. and ai is dogshit, frequently incorrect and incapable of doing the small calculus the human brain can do (if you train it to) to tell the difference between quality of sources and reliability of data, so it should never be trusted, period.

the only part of this "new technology" that i'm scared of is based on a history of ideas that i have actually studied. historically, the more we alienate ourselves from the process of labour, the less we are able to grasp it as a reality, and the more people are able to use that fact to exploit us. if you look at, say, the paper coffee cup on your desk, really look at it. where did that come from? it didn't spring fully formed from someone's imagination. someone had to design the shape of that cup, engineer it so it could contain a hot beverage and keep it hot, come up with the sleeve to make sure the drinker could actually hold it, but there's even more to it than that. someone had to make the cup. someone had to source the paper (or the compound) for the body, the material for the lid, the glue that holds it together. someone had to harvest those materials, in whichever country they were sourced, and someone had to package them and transport them to the company responsible for assembling the cup. someone designed the logo and the pattern on the outside, and someone is monitoring the machine that prints those images on the cup. someone will be responsible for picking up the waste and transporting it to a recycling plant, or to the landfill where it'll end up. let's not even start on the drink inside it. farming, harvesting, shipping, receiving, assembling, serving. it takes time to manifest something, and you are in a position of immense privilege to not have to think about where it all comes from on a regular basis. but what happens when the supply lines get shut down? what happens when there's a failure of irrigation or something in the paper mill and the glue holding the paper together doesn't work? do you know? i don't, personally. but there is someone along the line whose job it is to know, and i appreciate the work they (probably aren't paid enough to) do so that i can grab a coffee on my way into my own work. i have to appreciate it because i know that if the process goes wrong somewhere, i have no fucking idea what to do about the problem.

but i'm not pretending to know. i'm not applying for a job at the papermill to work for pennies instead of someone who does know the perfect chemical makeup of coffee cup cardboard because i can order a ton of coffee cups online from amazon in bulk. that's why generative ai offends me. the work that goes into creating art and writing still has to be done, because all generative ai knows how to do is steal, and it doesn't steal like an artist. artists look at the works of others and think, oh, i see how they did that, i want to try doing that, and then they can, because they learned how to appreciate the process. they've actually worked, and practiced, and spent time engaging with the process step by step to create something they find pleasing. generative ai looks at art and spits out a copy by comparing one image to another and assuming based on Uncredited Data that sometimes, pictures have hands in them, and hands sort of look like this. and the computer doesn't have a goddamn clue how many fingers the hand has, or how to translate that data into a visual. you know what does? the human brain. you know what you can do instead of bemoaning that you, a high school junior, can't produce a rembrandt on your first try? you can actually try drawing something.

you can actually try to turn your ideas into a drawing. you can do research into how to make it look the way you want it to. who knows? you might actually have fun doing it. because the creative process can be fun! it isn't for everyone, but unless you actually sit down and try, you won't find out, and if it's not for you, you'll never grasp on that physical experiential level that the creative process is actually a lot of fucking work, and we should respect artists for being able to sit down and do it so we don't have to, same as we respect the farmers who grow our food or the plant workers who mix the slurry that becomes our coffee cup cardboard.

i'm not scared of spotify for pushing ai bullshit down my throat. more than anything, i'm kind of offended, because i do put a lot of work into my playlists, and i have a lot of fun doing it, because i like listening to music and analyzing lyrics and relating the themes of songs to my little characters. i took it so personally because i Want to be involved in the process. i'm paying spotify a lot of my real adult money to have access to music and the tools i can use to entertain this pastime of mine, and it's kind of fucked up that they're raising their monthly fee to fund a tool that makes me, the user of their product, motivated to use their product less. insulting, even. why should i pay more for a computer to do a worse job than me at Having Fun? making a playlist isn't even that fucking hard.

i'm just tired. stuff takes work to make. it takes care and time and effort to create something from nothing, and a lot of the time, the process is necessary to make the thing good, because it forces you to take the time you need to spot and fix mistakes. i hope by now that it's self-explanatory why i don't want an entire society run by a dipshit program that doesn't know how to do what it's doing and doesn't know how to solve the problems it creates faster than human hands could ever manage, and i hope the dipshit machine and the grifters who push it are inextricable from each other in the minds of anyone who's read this whole post. i don't want them to run society either, because they Know that generative ai sucks and can't do anything right, and they're still trying to tack it on to everything to devalue the labour of artists and make a quick buck for themselves.

the best quote i've ever seen about generative ai is "why should i bother reading something nobody bothered to write".

we are a social species. alienation from labour alienates us from each other, from our communities, and makes us feel alone. when we're alone, we're vulnerable down to our core psychology, and there are a lot of people out there who know better who want to take advantage of vulnerable people to manipulate society at large. they want to make money off of your suffering. they want to reduce you to a number for their own convenience so they can use the One Life You Have On Earth to play their own personal tycoon game and get a slightly higher score. they want you to spend less time having fun, creating art, spending time with your family, thinking about what they're Doing to you, so you don't ruin their good time. i'm not scared because it's new, i'm pissed because it's the same old late capitalist shit i've already been dealing with, and i'm sick of seeing it everywhere because it stands a very real chance of turning everyone's brains to even more detached-from-reality mush than late-stage capitalism already has already.

And, on top of all of that, spotify's algorithm sucks shit already, so why on earth would i want it to make my playlists for me. the other day i saw it put zombie by the cranberries on a halloween playlist. she doesn't know dickety shit about my ideas or vibes or anything. so

no, spotify, i don't want to use ai to "turn my ideas into playlists". i already fucking do that with my brain and hands and i do it for fun. what, should i get ai to pet my cat for me? to play my silly games for me? to spend time with my beautiful wife for me? how about i rend you asunder

[euthymiya]

You believe in soulmates. Alhaitham does not. It’s not as though he loves you any less for his beliefs, but he certainly doesn’t entertain your baseless theories.

You’re determined to change his mind.

“What would you do if we never met?” You ask, staring up at him with your cheek pressed against his chest.

He glances down at you, sighing as he shakes his head. Here we go, he thinks silently. “I probably wouldn’t do anything, considering I wouldn’t know you existed.”

“You wouldn’t be sad?” You frown.

“How can I be sad about something that I don’t know exists?”

“Well, you could know of me,” you insist, “just because you don’t know me doesn’t mean you don’t know I exist.”

“In that case, I probably would not do anything,” he snorts. You don’t like that answer, glaring up at him as he adds, “I wouldn’t know what I’m missing if we never met.”

“You’re a real romantic, has anyone ever told you that?” You grumble. There’s a vibration of his chuckle through his chest, right under your cheek in a soft, rhythmic feeling that you’re so used to, you think it might be familiar from another life.

Over the course of the Akademiya’s years, there have been two prominent theories that have been debunked about soulmates:

1. The law of conservation of mass-energy states that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed—but only transformed. When a person dies, their body decomposes, breaking down into atoms that return to the earth, air, and water. These atoms then get recycled by nature, eventually becoming part of other living organisms, thus reincarnating from their previous life forms. It is possible, then, that two individuals could fundamentally be linked to reincarnate together from the same set of atoms in every lifetime.

It was later debunked by a scholar named Lamiya. Atoms themselves don’t retain information about where they’ve been or what they’ve been part of. They are interchangeable at a fundamental level, which means there is no difference between an atom in a human and a rock.

2. The heart and brain generate electromagnetic fields that extend outward from the body, with the heart’s field reaching several feet. Studies suggest these fields may be sensed by others nearby, subtly shaping feelings of comfort, attraction, and connection. It is possible that certain individuals’ frequencies may naturally align, creating a sense of harmony between electromagnetic fields, thus indicating that two individuals are naturally connected and could be labeled soulmates.

This theory was later disproven by a scholar named Dharmakirti. While human bodies do generate electromagnetic fields, there is no evidence that these fields influence interpersonal attractions or emotional resonance. Fields produced by the heart and brain are exceptionally weak and rapidly diminish with distance, making it unlikely they could be sensed or create harmony between individuals in measurable ways.

They fascinate you enough that Alhaitham pulls strings to allow you access to the archived files, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you how he scrunches his nose in distaste as he sifts through them himself.

Soulmates have no plausible evidence of existing, he argues.

Lots of things have no plausible evidence, yet they exist, you always argue back.

You like to think despite all the differences, you and Alhaitham are soulmates—that some form of you, outside of your physical bodies, exists for each other and each other alone.

You think it must be the case when your eyes seem to find his in a crowd without even trying. What are the odds that in a sea of people, they always happen to come across his by chance? And what other explanation would there be for the way he always seems to just know you’re staring at him while he sleeps every morning, waking up not too long after your eyes fall on his face in admiration? And how else would you rationalize the fact that you could tell his presence apart from anyone. You’re certain that if two bodies were standing behind you from a distance, your heart would know which one belonged to him.

Soulmates, you argue. That has to be the answer.

“I think we were always meant to meet,” you murmur quietly, tracing a finger along the pale skin of his chest. “Don’t you?”

“We’ve shared numerous classes together and have offices within within the same hall,” he states blandly, “I think the chances of not meeting would be rather improbable.”

“Or maybe,” you huff, “we were always meant to meet because we’re soulmates.”

“I think that theory has been sufficiently disproven—”

“You never know! We believe in the divine even if we’ve never seen them, haven’t we? Who’s to say Celestia aren’t fake—”

“The Archons have spoken of them multiple times, and The Gods, in fact, do exist for us to see, so I think we can trust—”

“Maybe Celestia decide soulmates,” you reason, raising a pointed brow at him, “how will you disprove that? There’s no evidence that they haven’t, and you can’t collect much evidence about them, so I think it’s safe to say that it’s possible.”

“But then it’s equally as safe to say it’s not possible by that logic, as well,” he says smugly.

“Fine,” you huff, glowering up at him through puffed cheeks, “I guess you’re just too stubborn to convince.”

“I’m not stubborn,” he argues (which he does quite stubbornly, you want to say), “I apply logic and reasoning to my theories. Which is why they are hardly disproven.”

“Do you at least think we’d be soulmates in another world if they did exist?” You ask hopefully.

He looks like he wants to argue about the likelihood of another world existing altogether—it irritates you enough that it pulls a frown on your face before you grumble a quiet forget it, shuffling out of his arms and turning away to face your back at him.

He chuckles, shaking his head. Something fond blooms in his chest, like a fresh padisarah in May.

“If,” he emphasizes as his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest once more, “if in another world we existed where soulmates were real, then yes. I do think it would be you and I.”

“Really?” You ask quietly.

“Yes,” he whispers. Suddenly, he sounds rather sure about a theory he never even believed in the first place.

“I wonder what we’re doing in that other world,” you hum thoughtfully.

He sighs, bringing the blanket back up to cover both of your bodies and mumbles, “I would hope we’d be sleeping at a reasonable hour before a work day.”

—————

Stay tuned for them being soulmates after all in another world *wink wink* ;)

[revelboo]

Seeing you in my notifs is always always a treat, I love the stories you've weaved together, seriously. Do you think you'd write a solo skywarp x reader fic by any chance?

Thanks and sure!

Stop Talking

IDW Skywarp x Reader

• Energy crackling through him until his spark is humming with it, until it almost hurts before he lets go to warp to the limit of his line of sight. Wobbling slightly as he reappears there’s always an exhilarating moment of fear between winking out of existence and coming back, of feeling his spark faltering at the strain. Almost going out completely before he’s back, systems humming with something that’s not quite anxiety. Far below, the countryside is a boring green smear sliced up by winding ribbons of asphalt. The warping, the view, none of it’s enough to fully distract him from the fact that now Thundercracker doesn’t even want to fly with him. Star’s been distant for a while now, long before taking the human, but Thundercracker? He’s always fawning over his new pet. And he can’t really get the fascination with something so small and weak. Both of his brothers seem happy, though. No time for him since they’re so focused on their pets. So maybe it’s time he found out why.

• Stretching out, arms lifting above your head to soak up the sun. Headphones blaring rock and roll, you’re dimly aware of a heavy rhythmic thumping. It’s only the shadow suddenly falling across you that makes you lift your head. And then crane your neck even higher, mouth falling open. Unable to fully comprehend what you’re looking at. Because it looks like some of the giant robot nonsense your kid brother is so obsessed with and you’ve apparently gotten way too much sun. Wondering if heat stroke can make you hallucinate as the thing crouches down to stare at you and then grins. “You’ll do,” it growls reaching for you and that shatters the disbelief freezing you. Because nope. Everything about this whole situation. Lunging, you grab one of your sneakers and chuck it at the monster, rolling to your feet and running without even checking to see if it lands.

• Laughing despite himself at your pitiful little attack and attempt to escape, he makes a grab for you, tips of his servos brushing your hip and then you’re pinwheeling your arms and falling sideways into the rectangular pool of water you were laying beside. It’s easy enough to scoop you out as you sputter and slap at his servos. Apparently, this one is half feral, struggling and squirming as he examines it. “You’re going to be fun, aren’t you?” From the nearby building, the front door is opening and he leaps up, turbines roaring and focuses. You’re screaming in his grip as he pictures the base, energy twisting over and through him, and he warps.

• You’re limp in his servos when he reappears just outside the hidden base, startling Vortex who’s supposed to be on guard duty, but appears to be working his way through a bottle of high grade. One of several if the pile the mech tries to nudge out of sight with a ped is any indication. “That a human?” The Combaticon asks, reaching as if to grab you and Skywarp’s wings flick up aggressively. Venting at him, Vortex relents. “Don’t want it, anyway. They’re weird.”

• Striding past, his optics flick to you, servos shifting until he finds the steady beat of your heart to make sure the warp didn’t kill you since he wasn’t sure what it would do to an organic. And how can he unravel what the big deal is if you die so soon? Venting, he carries you to his quarters wondering how hard a human is to care for. Surely it can’t be that bad.

[doeeyeseddie]

Piaaaaaa "brushing their arm against the other's, hoping the other would finally catch their arm and hold it close" please, we already know they constantly brush arms anyway!

fridaaaa this took me, once again, many months to get to and i sort of only vaguely filled the actual prompt, but i hope you still enjoy it <3

5+1 things, rated t, wc: 4k

[read on ao3]

I.

Eddie’s first day as a probationary firefighter is…interesting. Captain Nash welcomes him with the same warm smile he gave him the first time they talked, then leads him inside and shows him around the app bay.

“We’ll give you the full tour later,” he promises, “after you’ve met the rest of the team. You’re the first one here, if you want, you can change into your uniform now.”

He points towards the locker room – which has glass walls for some reason – and Eddie nods.

He’s just finished buttoning up his shirt when Captain Nash ushers a group of firefighters inside. Eddie runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s tidy and smiles as Hen and Chimney introduce themselves to him with warm smiles and handshakes, welcoming him to the team.

There’s a third person with them, hovering in the background and glowering at Eddie. He’s young, probably around Eddie’s age, tall and very built, and despite his hostile expression, he doesn’t give Eddie the impression of being an asshole. It’s like the expression doesn’t fit on his face, like he’s not used to wearing it.

Chim grabs him by the arm and pushes him forward, giving Eddie a commiserating smile.

“And this guy is Buck,” he says. “He was our probie before you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie says politely, stretching a hand out to offer a handshake. “You’ll have to show me how things work around here, then.”

Buck glowers down at his hand, and when he finally grabs it, he squeezes it too tightly, like he’s trying to prove something. Eddie squeezes back, amused by the pretense this guy is clearly putting on.

Behind Buck’s back, Hen rolls her eyes, but she’s also wearing a fond look, which only confirms Eddie’s assumption that Buck isn’t half as bad as he’s pretending to be.

From Captain Nash, he knows that they’re supposed to work together a lot of the time, so that’s gonna be interesting. He doesn’t know why Buck is acting like this, but he’s gonna find out, and then he’s gonna figure out a way to work with Buck anyway.

He didn’t come here to make friends, but he’ll be spending 50 hours a week with these people, and he has to trust them with his life for a lot of that time, so they at the very least need to bury whatever hatchet Buck is carrying right now.

Eddie lets go of his hand with a nod and a polite smile, and gives himself a week to figure Buck out.

II.

The days between the accident and the funeral are kind of a blur.

There’s too much to do and think about, too many decisions to make, too many people to call, too much to organize. He has help – Abuela, Pepa, the entire 118, but it still feels too much.

Shannon was 27, she didn’t have a will, they never talked about any of this. How is Eddie supposed to know how she would like to be buried, or if she’d rather be cremated? What kind of music she would want them to play at her funeral? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not for a very, very long time.

But it did happen, and now Eddie is somehow supposed to know all this about her, his wife, the woman he’s only just let back into his and Christopher’s lives, the woman who asked him for a divorce and completely pulled the rug from under his feet just a day before she died.

Sometimes, he feels like he didn’t know her at all.

His parents are here “to help”, which should be a relief but really isn’t. They never liked Shannon and aren’t making a secret of it, even now that– now that she’s gone. So Eddie can’t involve them in the funeral planning, and he can’t even leave Christopher with them because he’s scared that they’re gonna take the opportunity to grab him and run, and someone needs to make sure that Shannon’s memory is honored, but she didn’t have any family except him and Christopher, and Chris is seven, so Eddie has to be the one to make this funeral beautiful, something she’d deserve, but he doesn’t know– there’s so much–

“Eddie,” someone says next to him, snapping him out of his spiral. “Come on, breathe with me.”

Eddie stares at Buck’s chest as it rises and falls with exaggerated breaths, trying to match him. When did Buck get here? He doesn’t remember letting him in, doesn’t really remember what he was doing before he started hyperventilating on his couch.

“Chris,” he gasps when he realizes that also means he’s not sure where his kid is. And of course he’s the kind of father who would do that only days after his kid lost his mom, maybe his parents are–

“Is with Hen and Karen,” Buck says firmly, grabbing his forearm. “He’s gonna spend the day with them and Denny, probably getting spoiled rotten. I borrowed Pepa’s key when we went over there so they could pick him up, she told me you might not open – sorry for barging in here, but I’m glad I did. I know you– I wanted to– Bobby and Athena are running interference with your parents. And I’m here to help you with all that.” He gestures towards the couch table that’s covered in forms, leaflets from funeral homes, and cards from grief counselors. “After Abby’s mom– I helped plan her funeral. So I’ve got some experience.”

Eddie just stares at him, biting the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from crying. He trusts Buck, but he still doesn’t want to cry in front of him, doesn’t want to cry in front of anyone. But he does think that maybe he should give Buck his own copy of a key, so he won’t have to borrow Pepa’s next time.

Buck squeezes his forearm and gives him a small, sad smile. “We’re all here for you, Eddie. I got your back, remember?”

Eddie blinks against the tears in his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat that’s keeping him from saying anything.

Instead, he twists his arm from Buck’s grip and grabs his hand instead, squeezing it in a silent thank you.

Buck squeezes back and keeps holding on.

III.

Buck gets to go home earlier than anyone expected, but Eddie has been to his new apartment, so he isn’t surprised when Buck texts him a picture of his couch with a sad face. It’s not ideal, but at least he has a bathroom downstairs and a girlfriend who can help if he struggles with anything.

Until he doesn’t have that girlfriend anymore.

Eddie doesn’t find out until after his shield ceremony, days after, actually, once his parents have finally gone home to Texas.

Buck says he’s fine, obviously, but Eddie starts going over every day he doesn’t have a shift anyway, because he knows Buck and can see how much he’s struggling with the whole situation, with the uncertainty of when and how he can return to work.

He brings Christopher most of the time. They’re not having the best summer either, Eddie still worries that he’s not doing enough to help Christopher deal with his grief, when he can barely keep his own head above the water of grief, guilt and fear.

Carla is doing what she can, watching Christopher whenever Eddie’s working, she found him a grief counselor and is even looking into more permanent therapists.

None of it changes the fact that they’re grieving. 

But when Christopher gets to hang out with Buck, he lights up every time, and so does Buck, which makes this a two birds with one stone kind of situation. Hanging out with Buck helps them both, too, makes their grief not the first thing on their minds for a little while.

Buck can’t move much, so they play board games and try to find one they all enjoy equally – it’s not easy, since Eddie likes luck-based games (he plays poker with his abuela and tía whenever he can), Buck prefers trivia and games relying on knowledge, while Christopher likes strategic games most.

But everyone gets to pick sometimes, and when they don’t want to play board games, they switch to video games instead.

Eddie knew that Buck and Chris get along well, they have ever since the first time they met, when Buck drove Eddie to Chris’ school after the earthquake during Eddie’s second week at the 118. But with how much time the three of them are spending together now, he can see them growing closer every day – and he loves it.

Buck is his best friend, and he genuinely cares about Christopher in a way that feels completely independent from Eddie.

One evening, while they’re playing a few rounds of Christopher’s current favorite video game after dinner, the kid falls asleep between them on the couch.

Buck smiles down at him and lowers the volume of the TV, which means he loses even more clearly to Eddie, but he had the win in the bag anyway, he’s sure.

Buck rolls his eyes at him when Eddie celebrates his victory with big, silent gestures, but he’s smiling, too.

Eddie grins at him, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind Chris, and Buck twists a little to face him. His leg, resting outstretched on the couch table in front of them, moves with him, and Eddie slides Christopher’s glass of water out of the way in a practiced move.

“I know you’re here to keep an eye on me,” Buck says, “and I should probably be annoyed. I– I was kind of annoyed, at first. But it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s here, right?” He nods down at Christopher. “And I guess you’re okay, too.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie says, but he knows his glare isn’t convincing. “To be clear, we’re all keeping an eye on each other.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck reaches for Eddie’s hand, still on the backrest between them, and squeezes it – just for a moment, like he’s trying to get Eddie’s attention, like he doesn’t already have it anyway. “Thanks.”

IV.

Everything sucks.

It’s the uncertainty that gets to Eddie most, the not knowing how to help, how to stay safe, how to keep his loved ones safe. How long this is gonna last.

Every day, they have to see people die from a virus they know nothing about, and can’t do anything against.

And afterwards, they can’t even go home.

Christopher is part of a high risk group, and Eddie risks exposure at work every day, so obviously, he can’t endanger him by living with him. Chimney feels the same way about Maddie, and Hen also wants to keep her family safe, which is how the three of them ended up at Buck’s apartment, where they’ve been camped out for the past three weeks.

It’s generous of Buck to let them all stay with him, but the loft is not made for four people to live there, and they’re all feeling it.

Eddie loves his friends, but spending every minute of every day with them is starting to wear on him. They all try to give each other space, using the balcony as an extra room or going for runs outside, but there’s only so much they can do. 

He hates being separated from Chris, it makes him feel like he’s breaking his promise to never leave him behind again. Christopher says he understands, but Eddie worries anyway. He trusts Pepa, who’s working fully remote and offered to stay with Chris, and they talk every day, but it’s not the same as being there.

Whenever he talks to Chris on the phone, he feels better in the moment, but worse the second they hang up. While they’re talking, he can almost pretend that things are normal, but it all comes crashing down afterwards.

He hasn’t hugged his son in weeks, and he has no idea when he’s even gonna see him in person again.

Buck joins their calls most of the time, at least for a few minutes, and he sits next to Eddie on the bed now, shoulders slumped where they’re touching Eddie’s. In a world where he has to keep his distance from almost everyone, except the patients he’s treating and the people he’s living with, touching and being touched by Buck is a real comfort.

“This won’t be forever, Eddie,” he says, almost desperately. 

“But for how long?” Eddie asks, and it comes out sounding a little wobbly.

He’s not embarrassed by it anymore – Buck’s seen him in all kinds of situations, and they’re currently sharing a bed, so he’s seen him cry anyway.

“I–I wish I knew,” Buck says. “I wish I could– fix this.”

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs a little. “The whole pandemic?”

“If I could, yeah.” Buck shrugs.

Eddie presses even closer to him for a moment, a gentle pressure of their shoulders, arms and thighs against each other. “I wish you could, too. But even if you can’t – I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course.” Buck smiles at him and places his hand on Eddie’s thigh, palm up.

Eddie smiles back and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s our turn to make dinner tonight – you ready?”

“Ready when you are,” Buck says, but he doesn’t let go until Eddie does.

V.

After Chris has gone to sleep, after Eddie has finally stopped crying, after Buck has wrapped his knuckles and cleaned up the worst of the mess in Eddie’s bedroom – the shards, the pieces of drywall, the fallen furniture, he makes up the couch for Eddie to sleep on. Eddie wants to help him, to tell him that he’ll just sleep in his room, but he can’t seem to move from his seat at the dining table.

Everything feels like too much, his hands hurt and his head worse, and he can’t stand the thought of Buck leaving. He’s exhausted, but he knows he won’t sleep if Buck goes home now.

But he can’t ask him to stay, not after Buck already dropped everything because Eddie couldn’t keep it together. He probably had plans, and Eddie ruined those too.

He can already feel the hot burn of tears behind his eyes again and drops his forehead onto his arms, folded on the table in front of him.

Buck’s hand lands on his back, warm, then travels up to squeeze the back of his neck gently.

“You ready to sleep?” he murmurs, and Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. “Come on, you must be exhausted.”

Eddie shrugs and Buck’s thumb brushes along his hairline.

“You don’t have to go in there, I can get you anything you need,” Buck says quietly. “And I’ll be right next to you in case you have a nightmare.”

“You’re staying?” Eddie asks, lifting his head. Buck’s hand stays where it is.

“Of course, Eddie,” Buck says, like it’s that easy.

And maybe it is that easy, Eddie thinks when they settle in next to each other in the living room, Eddie on the couch and Buck on a makeshift bed next to it. He’s pushed the couch table to the side to make room for it and it looks like he’s dragged Eddie’s mattress here, so at least Eddie doesn’t need to worry about him sleeping on the floor.

They’ve been by each other’s side through so much shit, maybe it’s not such a surprise that Buck wants to be here now too. He’s just not sure he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at Buck. “You had plans– I’m sure you didn’t want to–”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Buck says firmly. “Of course I’ll come whenever Christopher calls. O–or if you need me. I’m here, okay?”

“I keep thinking about her,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the heels of his hands to his burning eyes. “Mills. Last August– I should’ve– if I’d picked up the phone earlier–”

“This isn’t on you.” There’s rustling and then Buck is gripping Eddie’s forearms, trying to gently pull his hands away from his face. “I d-don’t know what Mills was going through, but I know that you couldn’t have known how bad it was. It’s sad, and it’s unfair, but it’s not your fault. And I know you’re feeling all these things now, but Eddie– I’m so happy you’re still here. I need you to– know that. Okay?”

Eddie finally lowers his arms, but instead of letting go fully, Buck just grabs his right hand and holds on. His eyes are wide and scared, and Eddie has scared too many people he loves tonight.

“Okay,” he says, even though– well. What makes him special? Why should he be the only one to get out? He’s not a better person than any of them, he doesn’t have a right to happiness or whatever he’s been deluding himself into believing he could have. 

But he knows that he can’t tell Buck that now (or ever), knows that it’s a dark road to go down.

Maybe for tonight, with Buck by his side, he can keep the thoughts at bay for a little bit longer. After that– he has no idea. But Buck is still holding his hand, and Eddie may not deserve him, but he trusts him.

He thinks it may just give him enough hope to get through this night.

+ I

“This was nice,” Buck says, holding the door for Eddie as they leave the restaurant. “You, uh, you really didn’t have to pay, though.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says with a smile, glancing right towards their cars and then left to where the beach is only a short walk away, and finally back to Buck’s face, finding him already looking back. “How do you feel about taking a walk?”

Buck grins, turning left. “Let’s go.”

They’re not on a date, or at least they haven’t called it that, but Eddie has been thinking that it feels like one all night. Technically, they’re two friends trying out a new restaurant together. They drove here separately, no one pulled anyone’s chair out, they talked the same way they always do.

But Eddie spent half an hour picking something to wear tonight, Buck is wearing a shirt that looks new and gorgeous and fit for a date, and every time their eyes caught across the table, Eddie thought that maybe, Buck wouldn’t pull away if he reached out and took his hand.

It’s not the first time Eddie has thought that. Ever since Buck and Tommy broke up, it’s felt like maybe they’re heading towards something, familiar touches lingering and turning into something new, gazes catching and then holding instead of looking away.

Buck was upset for a little while afterwards, but he admitted to Eddie that it was more about another failed relationship – and his first one with a man, after he thought he’d finally figured out what was missing, than about Tommy as a person.

He went on a couple of dates, with men and women, but nothing ever stuck.

Eddie was going through his own stuff at the time – he eventually came out to Buck a week before Chris finally came home, and Buck hasn’t been on a date since.

Sometimes, Eddie wonders (hopes), if the two things are related.

Still, neither of them has called tonight a date – yet.

Eddie glances at Buck’s profile while they’re walking, and wonders what he’s waiting for.

Yes, it’s scary because Buck is the most important person in his life right after Christopher, but it’s also not, because this is Buck. Who has been by Eddie’s side through the worst, most painful, most humiliating times of his life, and is still here. Buck, who Eddie trusts with his life, and his son, and his heart.

Buck smiles at him and Eddie smiles back, heartbeat picking up. He’s doing this, he’s gonna tell Buck how he feels. Any minute now, he’s gonna be brave enough.

“Hey,” Buck says, “it’s just me.”

“I know,” Eddie says, and his heart thumps against his ribs. He lets his fingers brush against Buck’s on their next swing and watches as Buck bites his lip, smiling down at the ground. Hushed, like a confession, he adds, “Are you nervous, too?”

Buck looks back up at him then, eyes glittering in the dark. “Y-yeah. I am.”

They’ve reached the edge of the beach by now and bend down to take off their shoes without having to talk about it.

When they start walking again, they’re even closer than before, the backs of their hands, their elbows and shoulders all brushing with every step.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at Buck, and almost every time, Buck is already looking back.

There aren’t many people at the beach at this time of day, so they don’t come close to anyone else, and all they hear is the sand beneath their feet and the waves crashing a few feet away. The moon is big enough to be reflected on the sea, a beautiful sight, but Eddie still can’t look away from Buck for long.

“So, this is, uh, kind of romantic,” Buck blurts out after a few quiet minutes. “Right? I–I’m not misreading that?”

“No,” Eddie says. “I mean– you’re not misreading it.”

“But you’re nervous.”

When their knuckles brush again, Eddie stretches out his fingers and catches Buck’s, holding on. Buck’s own fingers tighten immediately, and it gives Eddie the last bit of courage he needs.

“Well, yeah. Buck–” He stops walking, and Buck follows, turning so he’s facing Eddie. He’s close enough that Eddie can see his expression despite the dark, and he looks terrified, hopeful, nervous and excited at the same time, all of which Eddie feels, too. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I’m nervous because– nothing…no one’s ever been this important.”

A smile spreads out across Buck’s face, slowly deepening the crinkles around his eyes. “So this was a date?”

“Did it feel like one to you, too?”

Buck’s smile widens. “Yeah, i–it did. And I’m–I’m nervous too, of course. Eddie, if we do this, there’s no going back for me. I can’t– lose you. You and Christopher, you’re too important.”

He pulls on Eddie’s hand a little, and Eddie takes another step closer, drops his shoes in the sand and places his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against his collarbone.

“It’s the same for me,” he says quietly. He shivers when Buck grabs his waist, the warmth of his hand seeping through Eddie’s shirt. “I– We don’t know what’s gonna happen. But, Buck– I love you. I love you so much, I have for…way longer than I was aware of it, and I just don’t see that going away. And I don’t think it’s fair to us to deny ourselves when I really think we could make each other– so happy. I know I can make you happy, and I want to prove it to you every day of my life, Buck.”

Buck is just staring at him with a dazed expression, his lips slightly parted, and Eddie suddenly can’t stand not kissing him for a second longer.

He slides his hand from Buck’s shoulder to the back of his neck, watches Buck’s eyes flutter shut and feels his fingers tighten on his waist, and then he’s finally, finally closing the distance between them.

Buck makes a soft sound against his mouth, like he’s still somehow surprised this is happening, but he gets on board very quickly, and Eddie stops thinking entirely.

When they pull back breathlessly, Eddie’s hair is a mess – he can feel the loose strands on his forehead – his lips are still tingling, and Buck’s got both arms wrapped around him tightly.

“In case that wasn’t clear,” Buck gasps, and lifts a hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s chin and caresses his lower lip, and Eddie presses a kiss to the pad of it. “I love you, too.”

[ramblinscramblin]

May I request scout and demo (and maybe heavy if you want) with a ftm reader??? It can be any scenario NSFW, sfw idc. I'm hungry and I need food 😭 (you don't gotta do this btw just a little thought ♥️)

-‼️

→With a FTM reader!

Genre: slice of life, fluff! Male reader!

Characters: Scout, Demo, Heavy

Of COURSE I will write this. Relationship left pretty ambiguous. Hope you enjoy! Thank you again for the ask!

Scout

Scout definitely doesn’t realize without you spelling it out for him, no matter how “feminine” you may present.

Asks A LOT of questions, borders on invasive, but is just genuinely pretty confused and intrigued about it.

“So… wait, you were born a chick, but now you’re a guy? How’s dat work?”

“Scout, we have been over this. Literally ten times,” you say, exasperated.

After the initial long and honestly exhausting conversation, the two of you feel closer for it. He’s secretly sentimental as hell, so he appreciates you telling him so much, like it genuinely makes him feel so trusted.

When you come out to him, the support is not instant, as he tends to show these kinds of things in really covert ways, he doesn’t want anyone knowing he has a big heart.

But the second someone says something out of line that is when his support is the most apparent. Always corrects someone when they misgender you, but if they continue after he corrects them? Buddy, it’s over.

You tell scout you appreciate it, but you can stand up for yourself. He’s not really having it though, too hot headed to let it go.

Genuinely forgets your trans at time.

“Why don’t you ever use the urinals? S’weird,” the commented once as you left the bathroom together.

“Scout.”

“What?” He blinked at you dumbly for a few seconds, before realization dawns on him “oh shit! Dats right, sorry.”

He’s trying his best.

Demoman

Demo is part of team “not really my business so it doesn’t affect me”

As in it doesn’t really affect the way that he feels about you, or the way he treats you.

Doesn’t ask any questions unless it’s clear to him it’s something you’d like to talk about.

Depending on closeness he may even feel confident in making some jokes about it. Only if you find them funny though, absolutely wouldn’t do it if made you upset/uncomfortable.

Is big into giving you male experiences that you may have missed out on, mostly cliché and stereotypical things, some of which you have probably definitely done before.

“Demo, I think we’re a little too old to be playing trains right now,” you say, holding a train in your hand.

“Fine then, I’ll just clean it up then,” Demo said with a huff.

You stop him “well… I didn’t say that.”

Let’s you speak for yourself in most settings, but if you ever express your discomfort in a situation he won’t hesitate to remove you from it/remove the person causing this discomfort.

Doesn’t make a huge scene, will take the blame for you saying it’s him who’s got a problem.

Demo supports you when you need it, encourages you through your medical transition if you choose to do so/if you haven’t already.

Alternatively, reassures you that you’re not less of a man for not having surgeries or using HRT if you choose not to.

I honestly believe that Demo has been around a lot of queer people, he’s the world’s best trans ally.

Heavy

Heavy, like Scout has a lot of questions when you come out. Isn’t nearly as invasive and holds back anything that he thinks may make you uncomfortable.

It doesn’t change how he views you, thinks of you as man no matter what.

Really appreciates that he’s someone you trust enough to tell, even if he doesn’t fully get it, he understands that it can be a nerve wracking thing to talk about.

Recommends medic if you want to have any surgeries done, respectfully you decline. Fearing for the rest of your organs well being.

Heavy does a lot of reading to ensure he gets things right, but only brings up your transness if you do.

Loves hearing about your trans experience if you tell him about it, will listen intently taking mental notes.

Doesn’t feel the need to protect you, you’re a grown man who handled himself perfectly fine without him. But, like Demo, if he feels you getting a little out of your depth all he really has to do is come stand behind you.

Gender affirming nicknames, always. I feel like Heavy is big into nicknames some of his favorite for you is “big man” “guy” “handsome” if he’s feeling bold.

“How is the big man today,” he asked coming up to you one day.

You chuckle a little bit “it really should be me asking you that.”

Being with Heavy is a testosterone booster, just enjoy being masculine together.

OOOOO I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH. I may revisit this idea later and add more of the mercs, for now I have more asks to get to! Thanks so much for the ask! (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

[thedevilrisen]

Cool Continuations

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 900 words!

Authorial Note: Part two of ‘Concrete Impressions.’ This is also a part of Cookie’ Universe! Thank you for the overwhelming amount of support on this au so far 🥺🫶🏼. NOTE THAT THIS IS ALSO A NORMAL QUINN FIC, IT IS A READER INSERT THAT ALIGNS WITH MY AU.

Warnings: Mentions of War in a classroom context.

‘The Vietnam War, started on the first of November, 1955…’ Quinn rested his chin on his balled-up fist. The bottom, bony part of his elbow was turning red and beginning to ache from how much weight he was resting on it. He wasn’t paying attention to the lecture at all. Normally, he only paid attention if it was dire or if he had an exam fast approaching. But today was different. He glanced periodically over at Cookie, paying attention to someone else entirely.

Quinn was hunched over, day-dreaming himself silly over the idea of being her prince charming. He imagined teaching her to skate, maybe even getting her to come to one of his games, wearing his jersey...

“What was that date again?” Y/N sighed, looking pensively at her iPad notes. Quinn’s heart jumped—he wanted to answer her, just to see her smile. He quickly Googled it, then read her the answer. In doing this, he learned he could be the one to make her smile, something he had already decided was his favorite thing. He pretended to absorb all the professor’s information like a sponge, even jotting down a few notes when she did.

Soon, he was noticing even more details about her, things he couldn’t help but find adorable. She was so particular about her academics; her notes were methodically typed and organized. She used both a physical calendar and an online one, and had a habit of thinking out loud. During a small writing task, she mumbled to herself, like a human articulation machine. She would say a word, then scrunch up her face, muttering something about there being a better one. He found himself smiling whenever she did this, realizing he didn’t just like seeing the joy on her face when she found the right word—he loved it.

‘Homework is due by 9 p.m. on Friday… dismissed!’

Quinn watched as she wrote this down in her physical planner: left side, third row down. He barely knew her, but he already felt himself sliding from curiosity to borderline obsession. He wanted to know every little thing that made Cookie unique, down to the tiniest detail. "What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon, Cookie?”

He watched as Y/N meticulously packed her notebook and iPad into her bag, slinging it back onto her shoulder. She adjusted her hair, tucking it over her ear. “I’m heading back to my dorm to have a pretty tame night. I’ll probably finish homework for this class, as well as my work for bio! It’s Tuesday though, so I’ll be ordering Indian and watching Gilmore Girls!”

Quinn smiled to himself gently. “Sounds like a packed evening there!”

“It will be, but it’s relaxing to me.” She quietly thanked a classmate who held the door open for them. Once they were in the corridor, Quinn lingered, desperate to absorb every second he could with her.

“Do you have anything on tonight, Quinn?”

The dazed look in his eyes dulled, and he snapped back to the moment. “I have hockey training tonight. We’ve got a game on Thursday, against BU.”

“Fun!” she said with a beaming smile, removing her heavy bag to hold it in front of her. Quinn noticed this and put two and two together—she’d been holding it too long, and it was getting heavy.

“I hope you do well in that game, Quinn!”

Quinn scratched the back of his neck, letting out a sheepish laugh as his eyes crinkled with a smile. “I was actually wondering… I know it’s sudden and short notice, but would you like to come? I could get you a ticket.”

He watched as surprise washed over her features. “You would want me to come?”

“Yeah!” What he really wanted to say was, I’d love for you to be there, but he managed, “I think it would be great if you were there!”

She smiled, a small joy-filled expression that just about melted Quinn. “I’d love to be there if it’s not too much hassle to get me a ticket?”

“Not at all! I can get you one and message it to you… I would need your phone number though!” He was trying to play his cards right. Even though he barely knew her, he knew these hours were some of the most formative and important he’d ever lived.

“Here, pass your phone—I can put it in!” Quinn placed his phone in her small, delicate hand and watched as her nimble fingers typed in her number before she handed it back carefully. “I have to go, but I’m sure I’ll see you again, Polka-dot.”

“Polka-dot?” Quinn looked down at her, bewildered. “What kind of nickname is that?”

“You’ll just have to find out!” She grinned at him, her hair waving as she turned and made her way toward the exit, her bag slung back on her shoulder. Quinn felt dazed, in awe of everything about her—her beauty, her kindness, and most of all, her effortless ability to be herself.

As she left, he realized she’d agreed to come to his game, and he had her phone number. Now, he just needed to make sure he didn’t mess this up. The next priority was securing that ticket for her, which meant that soon, all his teammates would know.

This was going to be interesting. But Quinn already knew it would be so, so worth it.

[breelandwalker]

Hi Bree,

Something I've been wondering about since this past election...

In 2016 there was this really powerful movement to hex Trump. Do you remember? I think you were part of it. I certainly drew a lot of inspiration from it.

Now that he's coming back, are you seeing the same kind of magically offensive energy? Or do you think people are more focused on magically shielding those we know he will harm?

Regardless of how (or even if) you response, I'm grateful for your insight.

Honestly, I haven't seen much of a movement for it this time around. I think we're all still a little bit in shock. The people in my online and local circles have been much more focused on real-time practical measures to ensure that communities band together and that the people who may need information/services/resources that might be under threat next year have access to them NOW. It's been a lot more boots-on-the-ground. Like welp, we have some idea of what's coming, so we'll tackle the practical measures now and the magic will come later.

Personally, I think that's the smart move right now. Magic is all well and good and I know it will be happening sometime soon, if it isn't already. But we've got a pretty short window to prepare and networking and community building take longer than group spellcasting, so....

Will I be doing some magical work to shield myself and mine? Abso-fucking-lutely. Will I be extending similar work to my community where possible? Yes, if I can find feasible ways to do it.

Will I be engaging in hex work where I see fit, up to and including once again binding a motherfucker in brambles and sewage?

Oh yes. 😈

But practical measures and community organization first. Hexing later.

[osakhee]

pretty boy, sub!anton x reader

! mommy kink, some pet names, slight dacryphilia

all you did was complimenting him, yet it made anton's mind spiral into something that couldn't be stopped. it was a much innocent comment, you admired how beautiful he is. deep down you knew the blush on anton's cheeks would be more than just him being shy over the praises.

you went shopping with anton in the afternoon like a normal day-off, you both love fashion very much and showing each other the worst piece of clothe you could find might be one of your favorite activity. it always ends up with a lot of laughers and great memories, and you really treasure these times with him.

you showed anton a wide tank top once inside one of the stores and hurried him to try it on. your boyfriend is always shy about showing himself but you know the shirt would look so good on him, displaying his muscular arms from lots of swimming practices and workouts. when he went out of the changing rooms, you couldn't stop the words coming from your mouth.

"you're such a pretty boy in that."

you had a bright smile but anton immediately turned red, the faint blush creeping from his cheeks and up his ears. he ended up buying the top and you made your way out of the store together. it sounded like the start of a good time for you, impatient to go through more clothes in the mall, but anton got significantly quiet. he held your arm in his hand and walked behind you, discomfort painted on his face.

it's only when you reached your next spot that you caught on anton's change of behavior. you were looking through sweaters when you feel your boyfriend's arms surround your waist and his face nested in your neck. it was all warm and lovely until you felt how he pressed his hips into your ass, grinding on you the pretty obvious bulge in his pants. he sighed on your skin, almost breathless.

"can we please go home..."

the travel back home was really silent, anton holding on your hand for dear life as if you would disappear if he ever let go. you walked in front, dragged him around the streets to finally reach your shared apartment. your boyfriend gave you a relieved smile when you closed the door behind you, his hand naturally finding its place on the painful tent into his jeans. you pushed his hand away earning a whine from him.

"anton go to the bedroom. get ready for me, and wear the new top. can you do that baby?"

anton's mind went rushing with thoughts at your words, he got rid of his shoes quickly and disappeared in the corridor. you took your time, put away your coat and shoes, organized a little anton's things that he dropped on the floor the second he got inside your home. soon enough it was time for you to take care of your pretty boy.

you make your way to the bedroom, the anticipation building inside your chest. you know anton will be waiting for you, he's always so obedient to your every word. you push the door that's half opened and your breath catch in your throat at the view in front of you. anton is already naked, the brand new tank top going up his chest to show his toned stomach, his legs parted for you to see his hard cock that stands proudly between his thighs. you watch the transparent fluid of his precum dripping silently on his lower stomach and his muscles tense at each breath.

anton looks up to you and only whine, his eyes blurry and needy, he barely can hold it anymore. you walk up to him and sit by his side on the bed, his eyes are fixated on you and never leave you, not even when your hand makes its way down his chest.

"so that's what happened... got all worked up by my praises, right pretty boy?"

"p-please... mommy please i can't-"

"can't hold it? i know you can baby, just a little more. be good for me, hm?"

"yes mommy..."

the way he looks at you with big puppy eyes, his pink lip stuck between his teeth make you want to give in immediately. anton is wrapped around your finger, always answering to any command, on his knees for you to overpower him in all the way you want. outside the bedroom, he's still shy yet he likes to be a little more protective over you. but once the door is closed, he wants nothing but to be laying in your arms while you take care of him.

your hand reaches his thighs and you watch his cock twitch, anton grips the sheets and hold back a moan with difficulty. he needs you so badly but he never wants to disobey or do something that's against your words. you told him to try a little harder? then he'll make sure not to cum until you tell him to.

you wrap your hand around his shaft, giving a slow pump to his hard cock and this time anton can't help but whimper, his head falling back. with your free hand, you gently grab his jaw and make him to look at you. anton's chest already heaves messily, the faint muscle line on his stomach tense and the forced eye contact has him falling apart. he tries to get closer, he wants more of your touch and your lips that he craves so much but you push him back in place. "not yet", it's all that falls from your lips and you see your boyfriend take a deep breath when your hand start working on his throbbing length again.

your thumb pushes a little on the slit, your hand wraps around his tip as it draws more precum from it. the wet sensation is perfect for you to keep jerking him off, your hand easily moving on his cock. you take your time to focus on every part of him, you feel each veins under your fingers and graze your nails on the pink and sensitive head of his dick.

anton is just a mess. his voice usually soft and quiet keeps getting louder, his moans turn into cries as the pleasure courses through his body and making his head spin. he loves it when you take things slowly, he feels so appreciated, loved and cared, but today he's very much sensitive and ever more than that, he's terribly needy. shaky fingers catch your wrist and you look back at anton, it always stings your heart when you see him cry, but the tears that roll silently down his cheeks make his eyes shine even more in the dim light, he's just so beautiful to you.

"baby what's wrong? tell me."

"i-i need you... need you s-so much..."

you just wanted to hear his voice that breaks at each word and drips with lust, you already know how much anton wants you. you can feel his cock throb in your palm. your attention focuses back on his dick and your hand works a little faster, going from the base to the head of his large length to make sure he's being touched everywhere.

slowly, you lift the new tank top anton bought to reveal his chest, and attach your lips to his skin. to spend some time on his sensitive stomach, covering it with kisses while your finger draw soothing circles on the skin of his waist. you drag your mouth further up until you can roll your tongue on his nipple, your face pressing into the clothe.

anton's hips buck up into your hand more and more while you suck on the sensitive bud. his voice got quieter again, he babbles incoherent words and whimpers your name. your lips abandon his reddening nipple and you reach for his chin to make him kiss you, a slow and gentle kiss he can't even reply to as much as he wants. his breath is so ragged you can feel his lips shaking against yours. you wipe his tears away with your free hand and look at him. you both get lost in each other's eyes for a minute that seems like eternity. to you, anton is as perfect as an angel that came into your life to save it, and his beautiful face like that is only for you to see.

"you held it so well baby, such a good boy for me."

"thank y-you mommy..."

"are you close now?"

"hmhm.... so so c-close mommy please..."

"it's okay pretty boy, you can cum now."

your words are like an electric shock through anton body. you pick up the pace of your hand and give his tip more attention. your boyfriend loses himself in the pleasure he gets from you, his parted legs shaking and his whole body so tensed next to you. his hands that grip the bed find themselves around your neck, he holds you close to him, his face nuzzled on your shoulder. his cries get louder, mixed with a lot of nonsense and some words you can recognize 'thank you' and 'mommy' over and over again.

you whisper reassuring words when you feel his cock twitch, anton lets out a loud and choked sob when he cums on your hand. his hips tremble as he shoots his heavy load over your fingers and his stomach. you make sure to milk every drop he has, letting go of his cock only when his thighs stop shaking, a sign he's coming back from the heaven you sent him to.

your clean hand caresses his hair until anton's breath get more steady and calm. you kiss his head and he sits back up straight next to you, the look in his eyes being much more satisfied than before. the smile drawn on his lips make your heart feel so warm and you reach closer to kiss him, anton's hand laying on your lower back.

"thank you mommy... i love you..."

"always my pretty boy. you know i love you so much more."

you tuck a strand of anton's hair behind his ear and he shifts on the bed next to you. he gets very cuddly and sleepy whenever he cums, you invite him to lay on your chest so he can doze off while you watch him sleep so peacefully. red paints anton's face a little when he looks at you.

"i've been good so... can i please be inside of you... wanna fuck you mommy i promise i'll make you feel good..."

your smile only grows wider at his words and you push him on his back before sitting down on his lap. his already spent cock is already half hard when you grind your hips, the grip of anton's hands tight on your waist.

"we can do that. make mommy feel good."

sub anton 😔🫳🏻 i love you @antoncore this is all for you 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 thank you for the love on my works im so glad i started writing again please never hesitate to tell me what you think or send me requests i'll love to talk about it <3 wonbin is next to be posted :3

[hannieehaee]

Hey hey, just wanted to lyk, your writings are so good😭

Oh yes I've a request, something like them doing something out of their character

Thankyou<3

them doing something out of character for their s/o

content: established relationship implied, pure fluff, etc.

wc: 641

a/n: thank u so much!! hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he'll let himself be taken care of instead of the other way around. he knows you worry about him sometimes, so he'll try to put his stubbornness aside and follow your every instruction to let you take care of him.

jeonghan -

he always lets you win any games you play together or strategically makes bets with you that he knows you'll end up winning. he's very ingenious about it too, so you never realize it's actually all orchestrated by him.

joshua -

he's such a gym rat, but he doesnt mind skipping if you happen to be free at that time. it'd shock the guys when he suddenly disappears, opting to be with you rather than following his usually strict workout schedule.

jun -

he can be a little shy sometimes, but he'd become the ultimate extrovert for you. if you happen to be introverted or are just low in your social battery, he'll take charge and do all the talking necessary, being the one to order when you go on a date or dealing with any strangers.

soonyoung -

this sounds so silly, but he'd push the tiger agenda aside for you. not completely, of course! but if you wanted to decorate your shared home, he'd let the decisions fall onto you. want a vintage carpet instead of the old tiger print one he had at his dorm? he doesnt mind as long as he gets to share a home with you.

wonwoo -

he's super competitive when he plays video games but he'll always be teaching you how to play and letting you win when you agree to play with him. he's always merciless when he plays with his friends, but you make him break away from that.

jihoon -

he'll go out and explore the city with you. he's such a homebody and generally just prefers to stay home, but if you ask him, he'll never even consider denying you. it's far more enjoyable with you anyways.

seokmin -

he'll put aside the silliness sometimes. not because you'd ask (bc you'd never want him to be any different than he is) but because he wants to let himself enjoy you without any distractions. he'd want to shut his brain down and just be in love with you in the moment.

mingyu -

he's absolutely terrified of heights, but is willing to step out of his comfort zone for you. it'd be so out of character for him to go to amusement parks, hikes in very tall mountains, parachuting, but he'd just want to experience every little thing life has offer with you, he'd push that aside just for the unique experience with you.

minghao -

he prefers quiet atmospheres, always enjoying organization and tidiness in his surroundings. however, he'll provide you with the opposite any time you want. want to go to the pit of a loud concert? he's right there with you. a tall roller coaster where you'll be screaming into his ear? sure, as long as you're happy.

seungkwan -

despite always being the life of the party, if your social battery is ever low, he'll purposely try to match your energy. instead of going around and talking to friends, he'll stay in a little corner with you, preferring the quiet for once.

vernon -

he'll do all the talking. he's not one to talk too much, but if you're ever quieter than usual, he knows it's time for him to take charge and lead the conversation, understanding you'd rather just listen for now, as he usually does in return.

chan -

he's an insanely diligent worker. nothing ever comes before work for him. he'll sometimes be doing a solo project while working on two separate comebacks for the group. but as far as you're involved, he'll take a day off in between of the chaos if it means spending an extra five minutes with you.

[paprikashpannash]

Jason Grace Fluff Alphabet Part 2

L - Love language -Words of affirmation and act of service -He sometimes doesn't have too much time for you but he would do and say anything you need

M - Marriage (Do they want to marry you?) -As I said before, YES HE WANTS TO -Being a demigod also means to enjoy every second of your life because you can die at any moment -So if you're together for years now and everything's still alright, he definitely would propose you when you both become adults N - Nicknames -He calls you by your first name or a nickname of that -Sometimes he uses sweetheart or my love O - Organized (Are they messy? Is their room clean or not?) -He's mostly a clean person and tries to keep it this way while being around you -He wants to kind of impress you with how organized the stuffs are in his room -But tends to get kinda messy P - PDA -He's kinda shy about this, but would defintiely hold your hand or put an arm around you -In private he's more affectionate -Would def tease you a little and give you more kisses in private than in public Q - Quirk (Any special thing in your relationship?) -He's a whole ass latin dictionary -He also can help you training and become a better fighter or strategist -AND HIS FLYING ABILITY -He is really superman R - Romantic (How romantic are they?) -HE IS ROMANTIC -He doesn't have any experience but he tires -He's a real romantic gentleman tho <3 -He thinks he's bad at this but he's actually super good S - Support (How much they support you?) -HE SUPPORTS YOU IN EVERYTHING -Until if it's dangerous -Then it's a big no -But overall, he's pretty supportive and supports your dreams, goals and just overall in everything that's not risky T - T-shirt (Are they let you borrow his clothes?) -Definitely -He ADORES when you wear his clothes -Sometimes he just ""accidently"" leave his shirt or hoodie in your room -Would become cuddly if you wear his clothes U - yoU (How much you mean to them?) -THE WHOLE WORLD -He never understood before why does the couples become so cheesy -Now he gets it -You just make him feel so warm and fuzzy -He would do anything for you V - Value (What they value in a relationship?) -Honesty -He doesn't like when the people are fake -Honesty is a big thing for him because he notices easily if someone is lying -He would feel hurt if his s/o would lie to him without any good reason W- Wild card (Random headcanon) -He has this habit of wrapping his arms around your waist from behind -He just likes to hold you while talking or watching what are you doing -Sometimes just press a small kiss here and there on your neck, shoulder or cheek X - eX (Do they have any exes? Are they experienced?) -No -Maybe he remembers something from that small "thing" he had with Reyna (if it even meant anything) -But he doesn't remember that he experienced that with Reyna -Overall, he doesn't have any relationship experience but he's still doing perfect Y - Yearing (If their s/o is away, what is he doing?) -He probably trains or work -So he can get his mind off you -But he can't hehe -So when you come back, he's gonna be all over you and follow you around like a cute puppy Z - Zzz (Does he or you fall asleep during the day?) -You're tired? Feel free to sleep on his shoulder -He's tired? He lays his head into your lap to sleep -Or you both just start cuddling and fall asleep

[blackfoy]

MINE

Based on this fanfic:

The clones were made for the Jedi. The Jedi can tell this. They each have several troopers that resonate deeply in the Force in a way that just clicks. They are theirs in a way that is practically indescribable. In this universe, this affects the Jedi just a bit more than in the fic. Just enough to cause them to snap. They will not allow their men to be murdered because somebody else thinks they are defective, no matter what the Republic says. A Jedi only need spend less than an hour with one of their pieces to decide that the Senate can go kark themselves. Their men are brilliant bright unique lights in the Force, and they don't care how many laws or regulations they break to make sure they stay safe. 

Of course the rest of the Jedi don't understand why Obi-Wan is acting how he is until they meet their men themselves. But once Obi-Wan learns a sliver of the horrid truth about the men's lives he can't stand to let things continue how they are.

Obi-Wan braces himself with Cody's glorious signature, but in doing so he falls a bit deeper into the Force than he normally goes. He becomes a bit more instinctive, a bit more feral, and while he manages to drag himself most of the way back into his body he doesn't have the inhibitions to stop himself from going through with the pretty terrible idea he managed to come up with on the spot.

He has Cody get something to type on, and instructs him to write down the number of each clone he touches. Before Cody can truly ask questions Kenobi is off, wandering through Kamino brushing his fingertips and hands over each sunset orange trooper he finds. Cody and the rest of the clones are startled and confused, but they are afraid to say anything so they don't speak. Obi-Wan tries to comfort them as best he can, but he's half-in half-out of the Force and his attempts aren't the best. Especially when he's running his fingers across the Vode's arms and neck and cheek and hair without much thought as to what a non-Force sensitive might think.

Several hours later he's nowhere near done, but he's done enough. He tells Cody to make a separate list of all the troopers that are in danger of being decommissioned and have them all gather together along with the men Obi-Wan has singled out. He then rushes off to Comm the council, still in a bit of a manic state.

Barlex was just walking down the hallway when suddenly slender unfamiliar fingertips trailed up his spine. He froze, looking out of the corner of his eye and seeing the orange-haired man that stood there. It felt like the air had abandoned his lungs. That was a Jedi. There was a Jedi standing mere inches away, softly tracing the curves of his back and the nobs of his spine. He held his breath for a long, long moment, before the General moved on, hand settling onto the side of his ribs for a moment before leaving him and moving down further down the hall. He sucked in a hasty wheezing breath, and he shared a frightened glance with Commander Cody as he scurried past after the General with a datapad in hand. 

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Girls when the end of Sketchbook Week fills them with a melancholic yet unimaginable gratefulness and a contradictory nostalgia for the present moment. Girls when the feeling of community that was already there was enhanced by an event and they're emotional over people on their phone

[heliomanteia]

Organizing & contamination OCD Will Solace 🤝🏼 OCPD Annabeth Chase friendship forever in my head.

[vaugarde]

okay so as a gen 5 stan who does adore the story in bw and bw2, and now that gen 5 has experienced both a vicious hatedom that wouldnt hear a single positive thing about the games, and now a super protective fandom that insists they were perfect and had zero flaws... can we admit now that the bw1 story at least was. a little mid.

[palaceoftears]

Magnificent Century Rewatch: One Picspam per Episode

Episode 17: The Double Joy

-My dear mother used to say "walk barefoot on earth and it shall take away all your troubles and sorrows, earth shall give you happiness and joy"

-Your mother spoke well, one can only find peace in earth. But I'm not sure if it is on earth or in it.

[noa-de-cajou]

The following text references religious imagery and abuse.

The unnamed organist belongs to @thal-chandra ;)

----------

When the house gets too loud

And the fists start to fly

I run to church

If I can't find God I’ll find shelter

No one will dare to hurt someone in His house

(I know this isn’t how it works)

(Leave me something to believe in)

Sometimes

When no one else is around

There’s organ music playing

I never see the musician from my hiding place

Too high up

Too far away

I don’t think it’s God though

God is not the musician nor the writer

Nor is he the paper

He’s the one who created the earth on which grows the trees that will be turned into partitions

So whoever is playing must be human

It calms me down, the organ

It covers my battered breath

Makes my heart stop

It’s soothing

Each time I come here I hope I'll be alone

So that they will play

Reminds me that I'm a musician too

Even when the skin of my fingers is all bloody and torn

It’s nice to be reminded of that

Maybe I should bring my flute next time.

(The Heretic)

They found out

They found out about him and me

I was too loud

They asked us to pack our things, anyway

We’re moving, again

Almost shoved us in the car

(A week after Bazyli came to the door)

Didn’t give my leg or my face time to heal

Didn't give me permission to tell anyone

Didn't give me time to go back to church

I wonder if the organ player knew they had a listener

I'll miss that music

It won't miss me.

(The Rapture)

I’m back

Two years later

Same town

Different home

(It’s not home)

I left cardboard boxes and screaming behind

It's still early and dark outside but my feet find the path on their own

The church is still where I left it

It just opened

I step in

And there it is

The organ

My fingers are tickling

But I don't have my flute

It’s at home

I haven’t played in a while now

But I'm a musician always

(Can I really call myself that anymore, I’m not sure)

The music stops

“Is someone there?”

The voice echoes through the church

I run to my old hideout

I hear footsteps down the stairs

(Don’t let them hear you)

There’s someone looking from above, with long hair and gentle eyes

They don't see me

They look relieved, they head back up

The music starts again

(You’re safe)

I might just stay here for a little while

And listen

It’s fine if I can't play

I know the organist’s face now

And they look just like their music.

(The Resurrection)