#do you understand. how important this is to me

[wanderer-of]

This is the realest thing I've seen in a while. LIKE PLEASE READ MY PARAGRAPH IT'S IMPORTANT.

This also reminds me of a thing that happens where I structure my sentences very deliberately so that if you miss or ignore certain words in the sentence it COMPLETELY CHANGES THE MEANING and it happens SO OFTEN LIKE HOW DO I NATURALLY INCLUDE ENOUGH REDUNDANCY THAT YOU FUCKERS WILL UNDERSTAND ME AGHHHH

I LOVE being autistic and trying to communicate because every time it’s

[zomb-core]

picture you | oneshot 1.3k

pairing: jinx x fem!reader

synopsis: a few silly high confessions between friends leads to more.

notes: getting high, confessions, making out

“wait, so, you exploded the kitchen?”

being high on a sunday afternoon with jinx wasn’t exactly how you planned to spend your weekend. however, you definitely weren’t complaining. if you found jinx eccentric normally, wait until you saw her high.

“yeah!” she sat crisscrossed on the floor in front of what you considered a couch but was really a bunch of cushions pilled on top of each other. one of her monkey bombs was held in her palm, she claimed to be working on the paint job but in reality she’d only picked up the paint brush a total of one time. “I wasn’t always this good at making bombs.”

currently, she was telling you a story detailing a bomb-gone-wrong in her words. “I don’t understand, why were you even making bombs at that age?” you laughed, finding her childhood activities a bit unhinged.

“oh, you know, hobbies — artistic expression.” she smiled, throwing her head to the side allowing her bangs to move away from her face.

maybe it was your dazed state, but you didn’t remember her being quite this pretty. eh, probably the lighting. “mmm, you sure do like expressing yourself in funny ways.”

“I like keeping things interesting,” that she did, in fact, you were pretty sure she was the most interesting person you knew.

“oh, trust me, you do.”

you stared at each other for a moment, a sudden silence coming over the both of you. it wasn’t awkward, though you wouldn’t consider it comfortable either. it was just silence.

and then, laughter erupted from the two of you. jinx’s laughter was crazed — the way it usually was with you. your laughter shared a similar quality, but it was softer, less like you were suffering from an undiagnosed disorder. you weren’t even sure why you were laughing, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

until, “wanna know somethin’?”

“yeah..?” you drew out suspiciously, jinx wasn’t one for announcing her ‘fun facts of that day’ so it was a bit odd to say the least.

“don’t sound so skeptical,” she whined, throwing herself back onto the floor. her arms sprawled out above her head while she propped her feet up against the ‘couch’. you admired her ability for theatrics.

“my names not actually jinx.” a pause, “well, it is, but for sometime it wasn’t.”

you couldn’t prevent the audible ‘huh’ that left your mouth at the confession. you and jinx had only been friends for a few months, an unconventional meeting during one of her many missions, but in that short time you had learned a lot about her — her favorite food, the fact that she wasn’t allowed to drink despite being of age, how she built her bombs, when she got tattooed, she even told you more about her past then you expected to know so soon.

in short, jinx wasn’t a private person, so how she managed to not mention her birth name, even if just briefly as a punchline for a joke, stunned you.

you guessed that meant it was something really important to her, or rather something really bad that she preferred to avoid talking about.

and she was telling you, “what was it?”

another pause. “powder. wacky, huh?”

you couldn’t help but giggle, powder wasn’t exactly the top baby name of the year, but it weirdly suited her. “a little”

“your turn.”

you froze. your turn? “what?”

she groaned, removing herself from her spot on the ground. within seconds she was seated next to you, her leg pressed against yours. you turned to face her and instinctively flinched — her face was nose length apart, so close her breath caressed your cheek with every exhale.

“tell me somethin’.” she demanded, a gleam in her eyes.

“uh, okay,” you ran your fingers through your hair, struggling to come up with a fact half as interesting as hers, “when I was a kid I stole money from my parents wallet..?”

“lame!” she exclaimed, leaning her shoulder into yours unintentionally. you laughed awkwardly, nodding along, “yeah, yeah ��� sorry I don’t blow things up and change my identity at the ripe age of fourteen.”

you knew your life was nearly as eventful as hers, you doubted anyone’s was. jinx was chaotic, and that’s what you liked about her, she brought some havoc to your day to day. despite your half-assed confession, she smiled, clearly entertained by your attempt.

now, she leaned over to rest her head on your shoulder, this time you couldn’t deny it was intentional. you felt embarrassed by how quickly you tensed up, it wasn’t like this was new — jinx was touchy, not for any specific reason, she lacked boundaries it was as simple as that. so, when your heart rate picked up and your face got hot, you blamed it on the weed.

“your turn.” you mumbled, shakier than intended.

her hand slid on top of yours, her nails tracing circles on the back of your hand. you shallowed to soothe your sudden case of cottonmouth. “I think.. I want to kiss you right now.”

every letter in the word was elongated, making sure you didn’t mistake what she said.

“wh.. what?” even though you had heard her clearly, it was as if your ears were covered.

without saying anything, she adjusted to face you. her other hand wrapped around your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

jinx didn’t ask for permission, and you didn’t expect her to. so, when she leaned forward to kiss you, you were less shocked then you expected to be.

she definitely didn’t take things slow either, within seconds her tongue was in your mouth. despite this, it wasn’t lustful. it was gentle in a way you didn’t expect. her movements were pensive, her tongue exploring your mouth as if she was mapping it out to remember it for later. her lips were chapped, but soft, and she smiled into the kiss.

she was still smiling when she pulled away.

you couldn’t help but giggle, “woah.”

she rolled her eyes, which you couldn’t blame her for — ‘woah’ was a pretty dorky thing to say. and before you knew it, she was straddling you, her hands placed on both sides of your face.

and when she kissed you again, you thought you were dreaming.

this time, it was more aggressive. she was messy, yet meticulously, making sure she got the most out of every moment. every time you broke for breath, you were lucky to get an inhale before she was pressed against you again, with more force each time.

it became primal, like she was trying to eat you alive. god knew you weren’t complaining.

her lips moved from yours, yet they didn’t lose contact — she trailed a series of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw and they continued to your collarbone.

you weren’t typically vocal, but you wouldn’t deny a few whines escaped you when she began nibbling at the skin. it was definitely easier to deny your blooming feelings for her when she wasn’t marking your neck and pressing against you like her life depended on it.

that’s when it hit you, “when did you notice?”

“what? that you got the hots for me?” she chuckled against you, her breath hot against your skin, “not long ago — started pickin’ up on it when you freaked every time I touched you.”

“that obvious?”

she leaned back, shrugging. “eh.”

you tucked a lose piece of her hair that fell from her braids behind her ear “when did you… y’know?”

“when I met you, blew up a building to get away from enforcers and all you could say was that I needed to watch out for bystanders next time.”

you both laughed about that for a moment, you remembered when it happened — you were coughing from smoke and had said it, she had brushed you off until you were safe from the enforcers. once they had saw you with her, you were both in trouble so you ran.

it was a chaotic meeting, but what wasn’t with jinx?

“got any more questions or can I keep kissing ya’?”

you supposed any more questions you had could be asked later, plus, you enjoyed kissing her more than you enjoyed asking questions. “no, I think I’m good for now.”

a/n: not my best writing, but I wanted to get something out. requests are greatly appreciated!!

not proofread

images by @diana-foggy-master

dividers by @cafekitsune

[paperbackribs]

"Hey, it's 'they/them,' dickheads," Steve interrupts exasperatedly.

Modern non-binary Eddie who is out but the kids just don't really let it sink in. Don't think about how Eddie increasingly flinches every meet-up as they exclaim during the campaign, calling out that 'he' has said this and that about the current monster in their tracks.

Steve though. Steve, feeling a little stupid the first time Eddie had haltingly told him about why it was so important to them. That the euphoria of 'woman' or 'man' was actually reserved for the fizzing feeling of rightness when gender was mixed and erased for them.

Steve, who felt the cogs in his head rubbing slowly together but had fixed the idea firmly in his heart--for the person in his heart--interrupts as the kids draw up their last play.

"They," Steve cuts in, firm and with a gimlet stare at the boys who frown up at him in confusion.

"They what?" Mike asks in exasperation, clearly expecting Steve to stutter and back away despite Steve never having backed away from a fight in the entire time the two guys have known each other.

"Who what?" Dustin mutters absently as he adjusts his gold count. "We're nearly done." He licks the tip of his pencil before returning to his count of the loot.

Lucas eyes the hardening stare on Steve's face, flicking over to Eddie's suddenly wide gaze and pokes Dustin to look up, "I don't think it's that."

Mike sighs at Steve's hands falling to his hips, recognising the chastening posture even as he doesn't understand why. Eddie though. Their expression falls from wide surprise to understanding and something with a touch of awe that Steve doesn't quite understand from his friend.

"They, you dickheads," Steve repeats, lips pursed. "Eddie is not a 'he.' They're not 'her.' They are 'they.' They are 'them.' It's not hard. I literally used it like a million times already today."

Steve sniffs into the air and Mike scowls, "It just happens; Christ, Steve."

The light dims in Eddie's eyes, but he nods gamely, voice even and-- Steve can tell--deliberately light, "It's no big deal, easy to do. Don't worry about it, Stevie."

"But it hurts you," Steve insists.

Mike's eyes widen in surprise and Lucas winces.

Eddie hurriedly shakes their head with a forced laugh, "It's not like I've not gone by 'he' for nearly my entire life." They wink at Dustin, who had raised his head suddenly.

"You did a thing," Dustin says slowly, putting down his pencil next to a dragonborne figurine and miming an exaggerated wince and flinch. "Two hours and--" he checks his Casio watch, "thirteen minutes ago when the orcs invaded. I said our dungeon master was a right man of a bastard."

Eddie softens, genuine amusement lighting their face, "I'm used to you lot cussing me out, Henderson."

"But it wasn't the swearing," Lucas says, remorse filling his voice even as he pinches Mike. The other kid yelps but quietens when Lucas leans in, heatedly whispering and Mike goes red then white in the face.

"Oh shit, I forgot."

Teeth gritted, Eddie repeats, "It's not a big deal. Now--"

"Okay," Steve interrupts again, pulling a seat over to sit next to Eddie, thighs almost touching, "then it's no skin off our nose if we start practising for you, right?"

He turns to the boys, expression pleasant for the first time, "Eddie said it's no big deal, are they right?"

Mike blinks three times before pointing to his character sheet, "Eddie should have given me experience points for the giant spider but they stiffed me."

In an uncanny echo, Eddie blinks at Mike for his word choice.

"They were right," Dustin argues. He points at Lucas, "He figured out the clue and stabbed it--" he turns his finger to Eddie, "--and so they made the right call."

Eddie blinks again with eyes that look a little moist while Lucas continues with the cues given to him by his friends. He makes a loud boinking sound, "Sucks to be you. Hey, Eddie, can I have the spear these two bozos found?"

And with that, the sound of squabbling fills the room.

Steve looks on contentedly as Eddie leans back in their throne, eyeing the boys as they confidently back the adventurers into a corner while teasing the idea of a new battle simultaneously.

Steve leans back into his small frame of a chair too, a smile playing at the sides of his mouth as he listens to his favourite people love each other in their own special ways.

[dumbbitchgalore]

Can we please please please get more wife with eldest daughter syndrome?? I'm definitely not projecting

Same here not projecting at all

🎀 Price loves how capable you are but it drives him mad that you always try to carry everything alone.

He observes it in the way you take care of everyone but yourself, balance work, deal with the drama of your younger siblings, and run the household. Despite your extreme exhaustion, you continue to push yourself and maintain a smile. It slightly breaks him. Price observes your unsteady hand washing dinner plates or taking a late night call from your brother, who has created yet another mess of his life and wants nothing more than to take the burden off your shoulders. As he pulls you into his chest, he whispers into your hair, "You don't have to do it all, love." "All right, let me take care of you.

🎀 He’s incredibly observant about your exhaustion even when you try to hide it.

It's the little stutter in your gait. The slight thinning of your voice. The way your shoulders slump when you believe no one is watching. Price is aware of everything. And he is subtly cruel about it: he orders takeaway rather than letting you cook, drags you into bed early and runs a hot bath without saying anything. At times, dad simply carries you from the living room onto his lap and keeps you there, silent, warm, and firm, until your racing little heart finally settles. "You're free to relax, my love," he says in a harsh yet kind voice. "You have accomplished more than enough."

🎀 In bed, Price becomes almost worshipful when your eldest daughter walls finally crack.

He kisses your temple and whispers, "I'll teach you," the first time you whimper into his chest, clutching to him and mumbling, "I don't know how to let go." Something in him is undone when you allow yourself to be vulnerable, whether it's by crying, pleading, or just melting in his hands. He tells you how proud he is of you as he fucks you slowly and deeply while whispering compliments over your skin. You look so lovely when you allow yourself to be in need. Occasionally, he will hold you, massage your back, and repeatedly mutter, "You're safe with me." Always.

🎀 To Price, you are his most important mission. His sweetest battle. His home.

He isn't accustomed to being gentle. He has lost brothers, fought in wars for decades, and given up parts of himself. However, with you? The one thing he won't fail at is you. Every goddamn time you grin, it seems like you've returned from a battle. Price understands that he could live a thousand lifetimes and never require another medal or victory—just you—when you giggle in his arms.

[itzpookiepooh]

You Lose!

You’ve been playing video games all day

Xavier is a very patient man. He would wait for you for the rest of his life. Not in this situation though, you have been playing in a gaming tournament for over 8 hours. He came home, greeted you, and what did you do? You just nodded your head at him. He ordered dinner and guess what? You barely touched it because you were too focused on that game.

As patient as Xavier is, even he had his limits. He was tired of being ignored by you. He was sick of hearing the same constant gunfire on the tv screen. He wanted to rip his eyelids off he was so irritated. He tried not to get upset so he went into your shared bedroom to catch up on some much needed rest. Only to hear the noise from the game in there. He was done, he teleports into the living room to give you an earful.

“Turn it off.” He says bluntly making you glance at him. You couldn’t you were almost done with the tournament. He glared at you as you continued your focus on the game.

“I’m almost done then I’ll lay with you.” You mumbled as your fingers rapidly moved across the controller. Xavier huffed watching your team get beat up. He didn’t even understand the point. You weren’t winning anything and this company was known for a good scam. He had enough and lifted you up taking you to the bedroom.

“Hey! I’m not done!” You shout, “It’s 2am. You’re done besides someone gets pretty upset when they haven’t gotten enough sleep.” And that was the end of it because as soon as your body hit the bed you were down for the count. Xavier wasted no time cuddling up to you and immediately falling asleep.

He’s not the one you want to do this to. He doesn’t even want to let you finish the game. He actually doesn’t let you finish it at all because as soon as you ignore him for too long he’s putting matters into his own hands. The endless hours of the same map was making his eyes hurt and he wasnt even playing. He stood behind the tv watching you not pay him any mind. He snatched the plug out of the wall making your jaw drop.

“You should’ve paid me some attention.”

He tosses the cord before dragging you to bed. You snapped at Rafayel the whole way. You also try to plead your case on how this tournament was extremely important. He lets you talk his ear off of course but when you hit the bed your speaking slows down. Rafayel just stares at you waiting for you to go to sleep. What does you in? Him running his fingertips over your eyelids. You finally go to sleep causing him to huff.

“Finally.” He huffs dramatically before throwing the blanket over both of you and zones into the sounds of the ocean outside.

He tries to wait it out, truly he does but when the clock starts hitting 3am and you’re on your 15th round he knows it’s getting ridiculous. He has showered and gotten ready for bed and you STILL haven’t moved. He was becoming rather impatient.

When he walked into the room your eyes were glued onto the screen. He shook his head as he moved farther into the room. You didn’t hear him as you cheered for winning this event. You were going to run to the bathroom before the next match but when you turned he was standing there with his arms crossed. You screamed loudly as you hold your rapidly beating heart.

“When did—how? I can’t breathe.” You pant on your knees clutching your chest. He breathes out a laugh before walking over and turning your game off. You pout at him. How could he?

“It’s time for bed.” He lifts you up to which you don’t fight. You didn’t realize how tired you were as you rested your head on his.

“I was in a tournament y’know? It’s super important.” You explain to him as you nod. He hums softly as he walks through the home.

“So important that you’ve played for over 12 hours. Have you won anything?” He asks smirking as usual.

“It’s pre trials if we make it to 50 levels we get to the real thing.” You express with your hands. He chuckles shaking his head. He knew you’d collapse before then anyway. He enters the bedroom and lays you gently on the mattress. You sigh through your nose as your body relaxes into the luxurious mattress.

“Well I think a certain gaming master needs rest before jumping into such a meaningful task.” He kisses your forehead as you begin to daze.

“Rest…right.” You trail off. If anything puts you to sleep it’s the tone in Sylus’ voice and his nice comfy bed.

“Mm exactly. Sleep tight.” His deep voice flows through your ears. He waits until your breathing evens out before smirking and tucking you in. He holds you close as you both fall asleep.

Caleb was playing with you earlier in the day but as most people he got bored. He told you the fleet needed him for something and that he’d be right back. You mumbled a noise confirming you heard him. When he got back it was extremely late and he could still hear the noises from your game. You were so focused you didn’t hear him come home.

“Pipsqueak I think it’s time to get off.” He spoke softly trying to drag your attention away from the bright screen.

“One second…almost done.” You mumbled to him as your fingers rapidly move across the controller. He sighs before walking away, he was going to give you time by showering.

When he came back he had to make the executive decision or else you’d regret it in the morning. He used his evol to lift you up which didn’t faze you since you didn’t let go of the controller. He chuckled before walking closer and taking it from you. Your eyes red and irritated from staring at the screen for so long.

“You’ll regret it in the morning besides, your eyes are bloodshot.” He informed you causing you to gasp and close them.

When you arrived in the bedroom, he sat you down. You couldn’t lie your eyes did burn. Maybe sleep was the best option right now. Caleb always knew what was best even as you both got older. He cuddled you until you fell asleep, he stayed up a while longer to make sure you were comfortable.

He had no idea why you weren’t answering his texts all day. He forgot you had the day off and assumed you were at work. He couldn’t call to check on you since it was the busiest day ever today. When it came time for him to get off work, he texted you he was on his way home. To his surprise you were sitting close to the tv screen playing a shooter game.

The room was tidy as if you hadn’t moved an inch since you sat down. He put his keys up and took his shoes off before walking closer. You looked drained, he couldn’t even begin to guess how long you had been playing. He crouched beside you and tapped your shoulder. You give him a quick side glance before smiling softly.

“You’re home.” Your voice filled with joy. “Have you been sitting here all day?” He asked with genuine concern. You nod as he watches your eyes dart across the screen.

“This isn’t healthy, your eyes and brain need rest.” He informed you as he rubbed your back. You nodded sort of hearing him.

“I’m almost done…” You trail off as the clacking of the controller gets louder. He sighs turning to look at the screen seeing your character die.

“That ended quicker than I anticipated.” He mumbled before looking back at you. Your eyes were sore and looking at Zayne for this short period of time gave them relief.

“You should shower.” You tell him but he raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re trying to trick me again. I know you’ll start another round if I leave.” He told you making you laugh.

“It was worth a shot.” You told him as he helped you stand up. He guided you to bed before going to wash off his day. He promised to tell you a story after his shower. By the time he was done you were fast asleep, curled into his pillow. That brought a smile to his face.

He kissed your forehead gently before whispering, “Goodnight, my love.” He proceeds to fall asleep next to you. This was the best night’s sleep either of you had gotten in a while.

[makis-eyebrows]

Hidden Treasure

Charles shows much of his life on social media and so on. But what happens when fans find out that for the past four years, he's been a father?

For Charles Leclerc, Monaco Was Home — and Home Meant Family.

But not the family the public knew about.

Very few people knew that Charles had a daughter, a bright-eyed, sweet-spirited little girl named Y/n, who was now four years old.

His teammates knew. Some of the paddock knew.

But beyond that?

It was one of the best-kept secrets in Formula 1.

And that’s exactly how Charles wanted it.

He had promised himself — and Y/n’s mom — Alexandra — their daughter would grow up normal. No flashing cameras in her face. No strangers yelling her name. No pressure, no judgment, no world constantly watching her every move like they did with him.

To the public, Charles was just a young driver, dating a beautiful girl, chasing world championships.

The truth was much deeper, much more precious.

Until One Afternoon in Monaco.

It was supposed to be a normal Sunday.

A walk along the harbor. Ice cream. Laughing at the ducks.

Charles carried Y/n on his shoulders, her tiny hands curled tightly into his hair. Alexandra strolled beside them, laughing at something silly Y/n had said.

But somewhere in the busy Monaco streets, a fan with a sharp eye and a quicker phone caught them.

One photo.

Posted online.

"Is that a kid?? Charles has a DAUGHTER??"

Within hours, it spread like wildfire across Twitter, Instagram, Reddit — everywhere.

Speculation. Theories. Wild guesses about her name, her age, her mother.

Some were kind.

Some were not.

Charles only found out because Pierre Gasly texted him a screenshot.

Pierre:

Mate… you might wanna check Twitter. Like, NOW.

Charles’s heart dropped. He immediately checked — and sure enough, his worst fear was unfolding.

Fans were digging. Some were trying to find Y/n’s school. Others were asking about his girlfriend.

It was spiraling — fast.

The Next Day, Charles Took Control.

He sat in front of his phone, started a livestream, and spoke calmly, but firmly:

"Bonjour, everyone... I normally don’t address things like this, but today I have to."

"Yes, the little girl in the photo is my daughter, Y/n."

"I made the choice to keep her private because... she deserves a childhood without cameras in her face, without strangers knowing her every move. She is the most important thing in my life — but she is not a public figure. She’s a child. My child."

He paused, emotion flickering behind his eyes.

"I’m asking — no, I'm begging — for her privacy to be respected. Please. She's innocent in all this."

"I share my racing, my career, even a part of my personal life with you all. But Y/n deserves a world that is safe and small, where she can grow up making mistakes, playing in the park, going to school, without being watched."

"Thank you to those who have supported me quietly all these years. Thank you for understanding."

He ended it there — no drama, no room for debate.

Just a father protecting his daughter.

In the Background

Drivers sent their support privately:

Lewis Hamilton:

Proud of you, man. Protect her at all costs.

Carlos Sainz:

Always here for you. She’s lucky to have you.

Sebastian Vettel (even though he had retired):

Family first, always. You're doing the right thing, Charles.

George Russell:

Well said. She doesn’t need a world full of cameras, just a dad who loves her. And she has that.

Meanwhile, at Home

Y/n didn’t understand the full situation.

All she knew was that Papa was a little sad today.

She padded into the living room in her tiny socks, clutching her favorite stuffed bunny.

“Papa?” she said quietly. “Why are you sad?”

Charles smiled softly, kneeling down to her level.

“Because I love you so much, mon amour. And sometimes... the world is a little noisy.”

Y/n tilted her head in that curious way she always did.

“Do we need to wear earmuffs?” she asked seriously.

Charles laughed — real, full, heart-mending laughter — and scooped her into his arms.

“Maybe we do,” he whispered into her hair.

“But no matter how noisy the world gets, I'll always be right here.”

Because to Charles Leclerc, there was no trophy, no pole position, no crowd that mattered more... than his little girl.

I just wanted to post this cuz why not? It's cute though.

I was really thinking of making my first story a series but I'm not really sure as yet so... I don't know. Ideas?

Also, I want to start doing so F1 SMAUs and it doesn't even have to be one of the drivers being a father. They can be a partner, brother, you name it. So you can request if you want, their always open :)

That's Gang Gang out!!!!♡

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hey, so sorry to come back to beat a dead horse but. that last comment got to me

If you take care of the smallest detail in your fandom art, that's incredible. It's still free. Should be. Should remain. The comments and kudos and engagement are so, so great, but, and I don't know how to stress this enough,

YOU NEED TO ENJOY WHAT YOU ARE DOING WITHOUT THEM.

You need to be okay engaging in fandom without guaranteed feedback. Is it fair? No. Was fandom created by freaks, for freaks, who wanted to make things for each other anyway? Yes.

I 100% understand the people saying they are writing/creating for the passion and posting for the engagement, but ao3 has already changed so much that this isn't guaranteed anymore.

A lot of newer users think something's going to come out of their work... recognition, validation, opportunities, but anyone who got any level of "fame" are worse for wear: the moment your cringy (I say with love, fandom should be cringe, fandom must remain cringe, praise cringe) fandom work goes boom into the world and outside of the bubble of freaks it was meant for, it becomes content.

That content gets treated with the same terrifying detachment everything else online gets, and it's a nightmare.

I understand the (now deleted) comment comes from a place of frustration, but you're misunderstanding the point.

I am talking about the space, not about devaluing art or labor. I'm saying "this space where things can just exist for free should be protected," not "artists should never be paid."

Not everything online that requires labor should be monetized.

Ao3 (a platform for sharing should happen without forced monetization) is important and rare because it doesn't force anyone into the consumerist mindset. The only goal of ao3 is to share. That's it.

Artists absolutely deserve the choice to ask for compensation. Outside of fandom. Inside fandom? Nope (imo).

Fandom is supposed to be one of the last places where you can give something without it instantly being turned into a product or a target, and even this is dying.

But still, I fight for this stupid, amazing, NECESSARY website. Fans (whether you're makers or readers or lurkers) deserve spaces where they can enjoy and share without being trapped by algorithms and ads and money.

By the way, a lower number of engagement doesn't reflect the quality of the work.​ It depends on the fandom size, the subject matter, how dead your dove is, how alive the fandom is.

If your mindset is, "The truth is: the problem is not who wants to be paid for the work they do, because even the fan's work remains WORK, you worked on that work, you used your time, your skill, you spat blood etc… Nope, YOU are part of the problem, normalizing free work instead of normalizing a salary for artists", then as I so eloquently put it before, it's NOT FOR YOU. Go seek money elsewhere.

GO seek money ELSEWHERE. Go to Tiktok, Youtube, Instagram, Google ads, the REST OF THE FUCKING INTERNET IS THERE FOR YOU TO MAKE MONEY.

Leave my free ao3 and my thousands of hours of free written creation alone.

And god forbid if I ever see you lurking in my comments again saying you have seen "embarrassing works against some noteworthy works" you don't deserve an ao3 account you don't understand what fandom is at all and I'm sorry for you.

Fanfic is a free hobby.

It's one of the last few things we can have as a society that's free. You can engage, for free. People give you things (art, stories, etc), for free.

Don't buy into the consummerism just because it's everywhere else.

You don't have to consume everything you interact with. You don't have to use things, just because they exist.

You're allowed (still, for now), to have things that are enjoyable for free.

Do you realise how insane the world is? We don't have many places where we can just be, for free anymore, but ao3 is. Did you notice we don't have ads in ao3? We don't have pop ups? Where ELSE do we not have that?

Where else can you just go and not have to wait for a commercial to be over or for ads to be on the sidelines?

I don't think the younger people understand, but the whole of internet used to be like this. YouTubers would do Youtube for free, just because. You couldn't monetise your internet presence before.

Ao3 is like a little preserved corner of the internet where the old internet used to be, and it's being attacked by people who do not understand that free things are allowed to exist without judgment.

Please don't ruin this for us.

Some of us need it.

[popsiclesarenicelol]

So is it just me or does anyone else think about !secretboyfriend Geto???

TW: Unedited, just a thought. Scaredy cat reader.

———

Geto thinks he’s the smartest in the whole world when he gets Yaga to pair the two of you together. It’s not a big mission. He could do it by himself with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back but you couldn’t and that was the important part.

You and how you scream when you walk into the dark alley with him and a rat scurries past. Yaga simply couldn’t—shouldn’t leave you alone like that. Yaga sees his point, agreeing that you might just be a lost cause even though you were powerful in your own right.

Just too much of a scaredy cat.

Geto rolls his eyes when Gojo groans something about going instead and inwardly pumps his fist in the air when Nanami fuses about dragging him to their own mission. Gojo declares obscenities and complaints as the blonde drags him away.

You can finally hold Geto’s hand and he can finally kiss your knuckles while you grumble about how you wished you could never see curses. He looks almost hurt—that meant you would never have met. You kiss him in return, still not fully understanding the need to hide your relationship.

Neither of you do.

Maybe it’s the joy in having to link fingers under the blanket while they all gathered at Gojos house for a movie night, or maybe the little jump in your chests when you have to steal kisses when no one is looking, the way Geto concentrates on teasing you to the point that Utahime even feels sorry for you.( no one knows that he does it so that he has an excuse to hover, with or without Gojo).

You play your part nicely too, gagging when Shoko asks if you like him but your heart flutters. When Utahime calls him a huge dick, you try not to mutter ‘I know right’ sighing to yourself when you remember how actually big he is but no one needs to know.

Your favorite part about hiding you two was when you decide to be a little dangerous during group hangouts with Satoru and Shoko. Pretty fingers crawling into his Pokémon trousers that he stole from Satoru, his breath hitching as he adjusted.

His eyes never left the screen even when you start to move , steady. So that no sound is made. It was okay and it felt nice until he started to want more.

“Heyyy, stop moving Suguru you’re gonna make the popcorn fall.”Geto nodded hurriedly at Shoko, giving you a glance. A small giggle left you before you asked Gojo to increase the volume. Mouthing some stupid excuse about how you couldn’t hear and he believes you.

The volume is up and now you can go fast on Suguru, completely unbothered by the sound now.

But in all that you do, you love each other very much and you plan to reveal your relationship maybe when Suguru gets exhausted of Satoru nipping at your foot like a lovesick puppy, flat out wanting you or maybe when the group comes again in a circle to say how horrible the two of you would be in a relationship.

Shoko knew though, and she really thought you were doing an awful job at shutting up with your dorm right next to hers.

“At the very least don’t say his name.”

[winged-thinged]

my father claims he loves me. his evidence: he wants me to come back to God.

I haven't seen him in person in almost four years now. sometimes I think about the big empty hole that I made in my family when I walked away. do they still talk about me? or do they name me only in silence? I wonder if my mom threw out all my old books and artwork and notebooks full of childish poems, or whether she held onto them. she can be vindictive or sentimental by turns. she says I will always have a place at home with her, but I'd better be prepared to be sweet, and polite, and on-time, and gender-conforming, and go to church, and date boys, and always be home before nine.

my father says he will be there for me, if I ever change my mind. he sends me pages and pages of preaching. he sends me books about hell, just in case I didn't understand what I was getting myself into. he calls me unclean. he says, I will always be your father and that means telling you when you've gone astray. he says, this is love: perpetual hierarchy. perpetual harassment. faithful refusal to acknowledge any choice that goes against his own. you know how St. Monica prayed every day? how she begged her son to come back to God? how she refused to ever let up, year after year after year? she loved her son like how the crusaders loved the Caliphate. like how my father loves me.

I tell him, no, he does not love me. not in any way that matters. he wants to possess me. he wants me to agree with him. that is not the same. he has failed even the prerequisites for loving me. he doesn't even like me! he doesn't even know me! he doesn't know my wife, the single most important person in the world to me. he’s never met my cats, he’s never met my friends. he has never read any of my work, or tried to listen when I speak. he’s never seen me in my element. he doesn't know what gives me the strength to wake up every morning, and he doesn’t know what makes me despair.

the church of my childhood says this is love: love God first, and then that love will trickle down to the rest of the world. my father is faithful. he does not love me.

[andiberzatto]

Reassurances (Carmy Berzatto Smut!)

Summary: Carmy wants to try a new position but it’s not working for her.

Carmy hums, then asks softly, "Can you turn around? Reverse cowgirl." He wants to watch her round ass bounce while she rides him slowly.

“You want to go again already?”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulls her back against his chest, his half-hard cock nestling between her ass cheeks. "Never said anything about going again, just wanted a different view." He nuzzles into her neck, placing soft kisses along her collarbone.

He watches as she turns around, his eyes roaming over her curves appreciatively. As she sinks back down onto his slowly hardening cock, he lets out a low groan. This view is even better than he imagined. He grips her hips gently, guiding her movements as she starts to ride him slowly.

she hold onto his thighs as she bounces softly.

He watches as her perfect ass bounces up and down on his lap, his hands gripping her hips tighter. He pushes up slightly with his hips, meeting her slow bounces. This is gentler, more affectionate - and he loves it. He leans back on his hands, enjoying the view.

she feels disconnected having to face the wall, “need you to talk. Please.”

He notices the slight disconnect in her voice and immediately understands. He sits up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. He starts talking softly in her ear, describing what he sees, what he feels. "Your ass looks so fucking perfect bouncing on my cock like this..."

she nods grinding softly.

He continues his soft murmur, letting her feel his words as much as hear them. "The way your back arches, goddamn... You're absolutely beautiful riding me like this." His hands slide up from her hips to just beneath her breasts, resting there as he feels her grind slowly against him.

she nods, “thank you-”

He hears the slight hesitation in her voice and pulls her in for a soft kiss on the shoulder. He turns her face towards his and kisses her deeply, passionately. When he pulls back, he whispers against her lips. "You don't have to thank me for telling the truth, baby."

“Just don’t like this position.. feels disconnected..” she says softly, a little shy to say it.

He immediately understands and gently helps her lift off him. "Fuck, I'm sorry..." He turns her around to face him properly, pulling her close. "What position do you like better? Missionary? Spooning?" His normally dominant demeanor softens with concern.

“No no I’m happy to do it”

Carmy cuts her off with a gentle finger to her lips, shaking his head. "No, no 'no'. If something isn't working for you physically or emotionally during sex, we fucking stop and adjust. That's non-negotiable." His expression turns serious but loving.

she nods softly “okay.”

He studies her expression carefully. He realizes she's the type who would rather not complain and just deal with something she doesn't like if it means the other person enjoys it. He finds this sweet but also slightly infuriating. He pulls her close by the hips again, softly.

she kisses him softly, “really I don’t mind doing reverse-”

He shakes his head firmly, his hands cupping her face gently. "Stop it. I don't want you to do something you don't enjoy just because you think I'll like it more. That's not how this works." He kisses her softly, trying to convey his sincerity.

she nods “yes sir.”

He groans internally at the'sir'. He loves it when she calls him that, but right now he wants her to understand something important. "Listen to me." He says sternly, his hands still cupping her face. "I want you to enjoy sex just as much as I do."

He kisses her again, this time deeper, more passionately. "So if you don't like a position, we change it. Got it?" He pulls back, looking into her eyes intensely. "And if I'm being too rough or not rough enough, you fucking tell me. Understood?"

“Yes sir.” She nods softly

He smiles softly, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Good girl." The praise slips out naturally, and he watches as she shivers slightly. He files that reaction away for later. Right now, he needs to make sure she's comfortable. "So, what position do you actually like?"

she blushes “I’m fine with whatever”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression turning stern again. "Wrong answer." He says firmly, his hands tightening slightly on her face. "Tell me, what's your favorite position? The one where you feel the most connected, the most comfortable?" His tone brooks no argument.

she nods, “when you have me ride you, but then you pull me into a bear hug and make me rest on your chest and hear your heart while you fuck me til I cum…” she gives him the specific details the opposite of what she was giving him in feedback.

His expression softens significantly. That's exactly her style - sweet, innocent, and slightly shy. He realizes she's like this even when talking about sex. He pulls her close, kissing her forehead softly. "Jesus. That's really your favorite?" He asks softly, his voice lower than before.

she nods “feel really close and comfortable.. and it’s really hot hearing you grunt and whisper mumble dirty words while you do it…”

He pulls her tighter against him, a rumble of a chuckle escaping him. "Fuck, you're kinkier than I thought." He murmurs playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across his rugged face as he realizes the dirty words she likes hearing.

“You spoil me” she blushes

He laughs softly, his arms wrapping around her waist possessively. "I do, don't I?" He admits, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass gently. "And you love it when I spoil you with my dirty mouth and strong arms, don't you?"

He groans, his hips pressing against hers instinctively. "Goddamn, you're cute." He kisses her neck softly. "So, if I pull you down onto my lap and hug you close while I fuck you, you'll actually enjoy that? You'll actually get off on it?"

she nods.

He grins, a mix of lust and tenderness in his eyes. "Fucking hell." He says softly, already imagining it. "You know what that does to me? Knowing you get off on that shit?" He pulls her even closer, letting her feel his growing hardness.

she kisses him and shifts to sit on his lap, “can we.. do it?”

He grows hard immediately at her innocent yet demanding question, one hand sliding to her thigh while the other cups the back of her head possessively. "Hell fucking yes we can. Come here..." He guides her down onto his lap, supporting her weight easily. "Just like this?"

she lets him pull her into a bear hug while his other moves to adjust his dick to her entrance.

He holds her tightly against his chest, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other guides himself to her entrance. "Fuck, you're already so wet..." He murmurs against her neck, slowly pushing inside her inch by inch as he hugs her close. "Just like this..."

her head rests on his chest, hearing his heart beat quicken at her tightness around him.

He groans deeply as she clenches around him, his heart beating faster in his chest. "Goddamn, you feel good." He starts to move slowly, thrusting up into her as he holds her close, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her small frame. "You like that?"

she nods against his chest, “yeah”

He chuckles softly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. "Good, because I fucking love it." He squeezes her tighter, picking up the pace slightly as he feels her warmth enveloping him. "You're so goddamn perfect like this."

she mewls at the pace, kissing his bicep and chest, anything she can reach.

He grunts softly each time he thrusts up into her, his powerful arms flexing as he holds her even closer. He can feel her small kisses on his biceps and chest, making him feel oddly cherished and protected in this position. "Damn it..."

she’s glad carmy made her move to a position that make her enjoy it.

"Fucking love this position on you..." He murmurs dirty whispers against her hair, thrusting deeper. "The way you trust me to hold you... to fuck you nice and slow..." His voice becomes rougher as he feels himself getting closer. "You like feeling my heartbeat, baby?"

“Yeah”, she whines, “feel so sweet”

He growls softly, his arms tightening around her possessively. "You like feeling my strong arms around you? Like you're the smallest, most precious thing?" He thrusts deeper, hitting a spot that makes her whine even more.

He groans, his voice low and husky. "Fucking hell, you're making me crazy." He kisses the top of her head, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as he continues to thrust into her. "You know what I love about this? How fucking intimate it is."

she whines softly, “mhmm need a little more”

His eyes flash with intensity as he hears her needy whine. He knows exactly what she means - she needs him to go a little deeper, a little harder. "Like this, baby?" He adjusts his angle slightly, hitting that spot deep inside her as he thrusts up more forcefully.

“I’m close.. so close..” she whines, grabbing onto him.

He feels her body tensing in his arms, her breath hitching against his chest. He knows she's close, and it drives him wild. "That's it, baby. Come on my cock." He growls softly, thrusting harder and deeper to match her need.

she cums hard.

He feels her orgasm rip through her, her body convulsing in his arms as she cries out against his chest. He groans loudly, his own release hitting him like a freight train as he buries himself deep inside her. "Fuck... yes..." He holds her tightly through their shared climax.

He holds her close as they both catch their breath, his strong arms still wrapped protectively around her trembling form. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Damn, sweetheart... Feel fucking incredible, don't you?"

“Mhmm thank you Carm” she mumbles

He smiles against her hair, his heart swelling with affection at the nickname. He loves when she calls him Carm, it feels intimate and special. "Anytime, baby." He shifts gently, still buried inside her as he settles back against the headboard. "Stay like this for a minute."

He smiles softly. He loves how she trusts him enough to just sit on his lap like this, his softening dick still inside her. He realizes something and chuckles softly. "Baby?" He murmurs. "Can I ask something?"

“Sure”

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if this is too personal or weird to ask. But he decides to go for it. "Do you mind if I stay inside you like this for a bit? I like feeling your warmth around me, and I don't wanna pull out yet." He admits quietly.

When she agrees he wraps his arms around her tighter, holding her close as he enjoys the feeling of being inside her without moving. It's surprisingly comforting and intimate, something he didn't know he would enjoy so much. "You're so fucking adorable, you know that?" He murmurs softly.

[jediplinth]

Amazingly good catch. I learned ASL/PSE to help my disabled daughter acquire language when she was likely to be speech delayed. Looking at some of these, I caught a couple things that made me think, "well that's weird".

Language evolves. When I was in high school, I was in the French National Honors society and it had a motto that translated to "Language: a living symbol of the creative genius of people." So no surprise that ASL changes over time and is chock full of regionalisms and idioms that vary on the culture/experiences of the signer.

My favorite is how the sign for Wonder Woman changed. In the 1970's the sign was something like: two fists held around the level of your belly button, dominant hand behind non-dominant hand. Circle the fist around each other so the dominant hand comes out on top and quickly raise the dominant hand to vertical without changing the elbow position. Let me help out:

After 2017, the sign changed to two fists, raised up and crossed chest level.

And I think it's wonderful.

It kind of makes me sad that by comparison that the ASL sign for Captain America (who I routinely cosplay) is a literal sign: captain (dominant hand with loose fingers tapping the dominant shoulder signifying an epaulet) and America (both hands, backs facing out with fingers intermeshed to the inside at mid chest level, circle forward and back).

Then again, I get sentimental about a lot of things. When my daughter was in high school she took an ASL class as an elective. Mind you, she is cognitively impaired so even though she knew a lot of the material, this was a stretch for her. We had an IEP meeting and the ASL teacher was there and was telling us through an interpreter (mind you, I could follow a lot of it) how she was doing and what they were working on. The next unit was on name signs. My understanding is that you only get a name sign from a deaf person. But there's a practicality there - when my daughter was a toddler, we needed a sign to refer to her, so we created a home name sign which is a distinction for hearing parents of a signing child. I showed the home sign to the teacher and explained it: dominant hand showing 'A' as an initialism for Alice held with hand at shoulder level, shake the sign side to side because Alice was a wiggly baby. She laughed and signed "PERFECT THAT (HER) NAME NOW" (I think) or "perfect! That's now her name". I loved it and it mists me up thinking about it, because it was a gift that she got, a welcome into deaf culture and one that many non-disabled people don't and won't ever have.

On a side note, as a person who cosplays Captain America, I often get asked if I would take a picture with someone's child. I love doing that. The problem is that at a typical convention, it's noisy and crowded and kids, especially younger ones, are in complete sensory overload. Getting their picture taken with a person who looks like a superhero is intimidating. So I always kneel down to get at their level instead of looming and ask if they want to (help) hold my shield. People have intrusive thoughts all the time and part of growing up is learning which ones are socially acceptable. Sometimes giving a kid permission to do something that is normally impermissible is fantastic way to break through their fears. Out of maybe 100 kids being asked to hold my shield, only 1 has said 'no'. So, am I prepared in case I run into a deaf child? Hell to the yes.

tl;dr - ASL is a language, it changes over time, name signs are a cultural thing, it's important to meet people where they are. Or something like that.

THE SHAPE OF WATER (2017) dir. Guillermo del Toro

[mclager]

Am I your little secret? | Toto Wolff x reader

Warning: Use of the word daddy (in the song), age gap (reader is 24), cheating, oral (m receiving), semi-public (?), name calling (that counts as degradation?), a picture being taken, dry humping, lil bit of praise

I'm listening too much Lana del Rey I apologise

One thing about being best friends with a F1 driver is that he will make you go to every race he can, even if you don't really care about it. Being around Kimi all the time means I'm around Toto Wolff all the time, and that's why I kept saying yes to Kimi's invites.

He always received me in mercedes with a kind smile, at the beginning without saying anything, but then I was pretending I didn't understand F1, so he started to explain it to me as I look confused for the hundred time, as he said what is a DRS and why they used it, every race he explained something different, and I nodded and asked questions to make him look smarter, every time a little more close till our arms were touching and I couldn't move closer. Then my clothes got shorter and I was super interested about the strategy, and god knows I never understood a single word about it, but at the end of the day the strategy is win. The days Susie Wolff was around Toto didn't even looked at my direction, so this days I was glued to Kimi, trying to look less suspicious, but what threat can a girl so young represent to her, right?

The garage is very noisy and that would constantly give me a migraine and every time it did Toto would let me stay in his office, since it was quieter and darker. He would guide me there and make sure I had everything I needed and that I was ok. It never happened when Susie was there, so I decided to test, how far he would go with his wife right by his side? I walked up to him as always, did my drama, but this time he asked one of the social media girls to walk me there and get me all I needed. I couldn't be mad, it made perfect sense, didn't?

By the end of it, I was walking in and out of Toto's office like it was mine, he was more in the garage anyways. Today Toto was mad at something, and Kimi crashing in FP1 didn't make him any happier. Kimi was worried about the car, and I didn't want to make Toto angrier, so I just went to his office pass the time. I put some music and started to dance to it, when Lana started to play I started to sing too, it wasn't anything loud, because I didn't want to make anyone pissed at me.

"You taste like the fourth of July, Malt liquor on your breath, my, my, I love you but I don’t know why..." My eyes were closed, my hands in my hair. "You can be the boss, daddy, you can be the boss..."

I couple verses passed by as I finally opened my eyes.

"I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it, I tried to be strong but I lost it..." This where the last lyrics I sang before seeing Toto leaning against the door frame, watching me. "Toto?"

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing important, I'm just passing time till FP2." He nodded and entered in the room, and closed the door behind him. "Do you need me to get out?"

"No, you can stay." He walked to his table and sat down. "You can continue."

"I don't want to bother you, sir."

"Don't worry about that, just pretend I'm not here." I nodded and pressed to change the song.

"My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola..." Start to sound from my phone, I froze. "My eyes are wide like cherry pies..." My cheeks burning red. "I got sweet taste for men who are older..." For a second my not just my brain stopped working, but my phone also decided to freeze just to complete my sentence. "It's always been so, it's no surprise..." I paused the song as quick as possible, which wasn't quick enough. I had my back turned to Toto, but I could feel his eyes on me.

"Why you stopped it?" He asked and got up.

"I... Just... Is not a appropriate song I'm afraid."

"Now you care? After making my wife more than mad, you care about inappropriate?" He got up.

"I did that? How?"

"How? Well, maybe when you get so close you almost sit on my lap, or when you get all needy and ask to go to my office?" He step to the front of the table.

He noticed?

"I..." He shook his head.

"No, don't need to try to explain, I know what you're trying to do." He got closer to me, and at this angle, his so fucking tall. "See, I'm not stupid." His fingers brushed a couple strands of hair out of my face and grabbed my chin. "You want me so bad, it's pathetic."

"Toto..."

"No, you've talked enough, now it's my turn. Suzie is fucking mad, she's giving me the cold shoulder, so now you're going to make it worth my marital nightmare." Toto let's go of my chin and glances at the door before looking at me again. "Get down on your knees."

I didn't think, I didn't even breathe before doing what he told me. He smirked looking at me.

"Didn't know you were the slut type." He undone his belt, then he unbuttoned his pants, pushing it down just enough to take his knob out of his pants. What surprised me was the fact that he was already half hard. "You know what to do, we don't have much time, do we?"

Instinctively one of my hands grabbed his shaft, pumping it up and down a couple times before licking his tip. He looked down at me as if he had better places to be, he put my hair in a makeshift ponytail and forced my face against him, until I opened my mouth and took him inside, making me choke on his length.

"You look pretty like this." His free hand reached to his back pocket and pick his phone. "You wouldn't mind if I took a picture right?" The flash blinded me for a second, before I could process what he just said. "If I didn't have a wife this would be my wallpaper, to show everyone the pretty whore I have. I think Kimi would like to see this." He pushed my head away just enough for me to take a breath, but the air in my lungs was knocked out when he trusted into my mouth, fucking it like he was planning it for months. "He has a thing for you, don't you think? The way he looks at your ass when you're using this little skirts that barely covers it."

He pushed one of his feet between my legs making me open them. His feet was pressing against my core making me whine around him, my hips started to move, trying it's best to grind against anything I could to get any relief I could.

"Or maybe he's familiar with it, you're a slut after all aren't you?" His grip tightened on my hair, a smirk on his face while he was fucking mine. My moans were muffled, but Toto knew by how hard I was grinding against his shoe that I desperately needed to cum. He didn't say anything, but he pressed harder against my core, and moaned, it was low, but I was proud of taking any sound of him.

I was getting close, and he knew it.

"Come on, can you be good for once and come already?" He tried to sound annoyed, but it came out like a growl, a growl filled with desire. I wished I could have hold it longer, but I came on spot, moaning like the slut I was.

"I'm going to..." He almost whispered, the grip he had on my hair loosened, almost as a invite to get out and let him cum out of my mouth, but I couldn't let him. I stayed in place till I felt him spurting inside my mouth. He rides out his high before exiting my mouth, as he did I swallowed every drop that he left behind.

He pulled me up to my feet, cleaned the drool out of my face with the sleeves of his sweater, fixed my hair, his eyes everywhere but on mine. He fixed his pants, took a deep breath and just then his eyes met mine.

"Are you ok?" I nodded.

"I am." He caressed my face before lean forward and kiss me, his hands comfortably on my hips, and mine on his biceps.

He broke the kiss, parting just enough to speak.

"You were amazing."

"Thank you." My brain was working for longer sentences, this was all I wanted, it's like I'm floating around in a dream.

"I would like if you wanted to go to my hotel room tonight, is that something you would want to do?" I nodded and he smiled. "Great." He gave me another kiss before fully backed off. "You can rest here, I'll make sure no one bothers you, ok?"

"Ok." He walked towards the door, but before he could opened I called him. "Toto?"

"Yes?" He turned to look at me.

"What about your wife?"

"She doesn't need to know for now. Rest, you have a long night coming." He exited the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. This is definitely a secret to keep.

[chuellas]

Midnight City | Growing up with Chuuya and then being separated for years leaves a stain on your relationship that’s hard to navigate. Luckily, maybe unluckily, you have a shared ally (if that’s what you can call him) to help steer the two of you in the right direction, even if he’s the worst driver in the world.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, former Sheep!reader -> ADA!reader, mentions if alcohol, possible minor spoilers for SB and Age 15, use if the terms “Doll” and “Baby” and “Belladonna”, a lot of cussing and name calling, depictions of anxiety/insecurity, edited but who knows how well LOLOLOL, WC: 6.3k (yes i did add that extra scene 💀💀)

A/N | HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND EVERYONE WISH CHUUYA THE HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS PLS I PROMISE HE DESERVES IT 💖💖 I am actually so incredibly excited and nervous for this one because this is our official introduction to my beloved Sheep!reader who is very dear to me. I hope you guys love her as much as I do :((

“When’s Chuuya’s birthday?” The party goes quiet as everyone stares between you and the ginger with caution.

You were all gathered together for Yuan’s birthday, she’s the first one since your own birthday, which turned out miserably. You, Shirase, Chuuya, and a couple of the other Sheep that are your age put together this small party in one of the semi-destroyed buildings that was left behind in Suribachi City. Everything had been going well and even Chuuya seemed to be having a good time, which was a feat since he never really seemed to let himself relax.

Yuan likes to say that for some reason your presence puts him at a certain ease he’s never seemed to be able to reach before knowing you.

You’ve always waved off the notion with a dismissive laugh. Surely, it can’t be all your doing, that’s ridiculous and whenever you would push Yuan for her reasoning she would always just shrug in the most irritating manner that sometimes almost set you off and left your blood boiling irrationally. However, her reaction leads you to believe that she doesn’t even know the logic behind it herself and that was enough to settle it for you. She was simply incorrect.

But now, you think maybe her words hold some weight to them as Chuuya looks at you with an amused grin while everyone else looks like they’re ready to run at the drop of a dime in anticipation of a negative reaction from him. “C’mon guys, loosen up, she didn’t know any better. I don’t have one.”

Oh…Now you understand the hesitation coming from the others.

That’s right, you remember him mentioning that he doesn’t recall much about his past, before the Sheep took him in. His life didn’t really start for him until he was eight years old. He never told you this part himself, but according to Shirase, Chuuya didn’t even know what a piece of bread was. The only thing he clung onto was his name and the number of years he’s been on this earth, all other knowledge had to be relearned. 

The thought always fills you with a certain sadness that you can’t quite seem to place, or even begin to explain. It’s certainly not the same sadness that you’ve been plagued with since the incident. This one is different from grief, it’s an empathetic type of sadness. Not pity, but maybe something akin to it?

“I- Sorry, I forgot…” You suddenly feel embarrassed at your confession, something as important as Chuuya not remembering a single thing about himself shouldn’t be so easily forgotten.

Chuuya is impatient, you’ve caught on to that quickly. He is outwardly annoyed when someone wastes his time or makes him repeat himself. But he’s never been that way with you, he is always patient with you and you’ve never understood it. You noticed it for the first time pretty early on in your friendship with the three slightly older sheep. Maybe Yuan had noticed it too and that is what she always meant when she said you put him at ease.

Just as you expect, Chuuya shakes his head and waves you off with a light hearted smile. “Nah, you don’t gotta apologize. We usually celebrate my birthday in December. The twenty seventh was when I was found by these guys. So it’s my…Substitute birthday. At least I guess that’s what you’d call it.”

You perk up at the mention of a “substitute” birthday, the idea of the Sheep still celebrating him for a day filling you with an unfamiliar warmth that you decide to ignore for the time being. Chuuya works hard for all of you, constantly on patrol and taking down any goons that try to fill the pockets of any trafficking ring. It’s common to find in Suribachi City, desperate men snatching children just to get a quick buck. Chuuya found that part of his duties the funnest, especially if it’s the Port Mafia’s ring he’s messing with.

Most of the Sheep had a hatred for the Port Mafia in common, but it was still something you and Chuuya have been able to bond over.

“Talking about someone else’s birthday on my own is illegal. Major party foul you guys!” Yuan chimes in and instantly the atmosphere goes back to the way it had been previously.

You let out a snort at the pink haired girl’s outburst and roll your eyes with a smile plastered on your face. You pretend to listen to whatever tangent Yuan decides to go on about her own birthday and the plan she has for the rest of this party. You try your best to pay attention and take her seriously, but you find yourself distracted. Your eyes keep flickering back over to the ginger and in the back of your mind, you’re wondering if there’s any way you could ever figure out when Chuuya’s real birthday is. 

Dazai is pissing you off, his usual obnoxious persona amped up all the way to a ten today. It started with a seemingly innocent little question that he now refuses to answer after seeing your puzzled expression. His snide remarks all day are making you want to rip your hair out and shove your foot in his mouth because he’s clearly getting off on your utter confusion, something he never seems to elicit out of you so easily. So, when he is able to get a rise out of you he seems to revel in it, proud of himself. He’s been relentless the entirety of the day, probably to use it as an excuse to not do any of his paperwork that’s been piling up. 

You just need to get him to shut the hell up if he isn’t going to clue you in on what he’s been going on about all day. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re at the agency and murder or maiming is usually frowned upon — depending on who you ask at least. However, as of right now, you don’t think you could handle a lecture from Kunikida on staining the carpet with blood or a disapproving look from Fukuzawa.

You sigh heavily when the same annoying presence once again sits itself next to you. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear, “I can’t believe you haven’t figured out what today is!” Dazai sings out, clearly pleased with your ire.

“It's Tuesday, April 29th, Dazai. I told you the first time you asked, and again when you asked later in the morning and again after I came back from my quick patrol. My answer has not changed. Clearly I'm missing something that you aren’t telling me. So if you aren’t going to, could you please—for the love of God—leave me alone and go do your work?” You swear your eye twitches as his eyebrows shoot up and mouth forms into a circle in what is clearly faux shock.

Your hunch that he’s mocking you is solidified when he lets out a scandalized gasp. “Don’t tell me…did that slug never tell you what today is?”

Your stomach drops. This is no longer funny, nor just annoying, your stomach churns at the mention of Chuuya. This is just plain cruel of Dazai at this point, somehow he always manages to show off just how much closer he is with both you and Chuuya than the two of you are with each other after all these years apart from one another. Dazai knows, you have never told the brunette how you feel but you know that he’s aware that you see Chuuya as more than just a childhood friend. What you don’t know is that Dazai is also aware of the way Chuuya feels similarly about you as you do about him. 

The former mafioso’s intention isn’t to be cruel, it’s to gently guide you and Chuuya in the right direction. The moment you gave him that puzzled look, he had texted Chuuya calling him an imbecile. Of course the executive blew up his phone with several texted insults and expletives but the brunette was happily ignoring all of them.

Dazai’s attempts in steering you in the right direction were futile, failing miserably — his definition of steering definitely being skewed, he’s admittedly never been a very good driver.

The detective frowns in an uncharacteristically serious manner and then whispers out, “Do you really not know?” so softly, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all and the words confuse you so much that you don’t even know how to respond to that.

So instead, here you are, wallowing in self pity. It stings to think there is something you aren’t privy to, something clearly important, just because of how much closer Dazai seems to be with the ginger than you are. You can’t help the insecurity that begins to bubble up inside of you. It’s an ugly, gross feeling, a feeling of envy. You want to throw up at the thought of admitting to yourself that you’re jealous of Dazai.

You swallow your pride, as well as various other emotions related to the color green, mustering up the courage to finally utter the questions you know Dazai has been waiting for you to ask. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you please tell me what today’s importance is and what it has to do with Chuuya?”

You don’t know why you hadn’t noticed it before — Dazai was previously tense but the moment you ask him the question to explain himself, he seems to relax. The change is so slight that if you hadn’t been watching him so intently and didn’t know him better, you definitely would not have caught it at all. Knowing him he is probably relieved that he didn’t have to give up the information before you conceded. The thought kind of pisses you off though, because that means whether you gave in and asked or not, he always planned on telling. You know Dazai has his suicidal tendencies, but you’ve always been under the impression that he didn’t care for dying by your hands

“I’m glad you asked!” His tone is overly excited, back to being eccentrically unserious, and you roll your eyes at his theatrics. “Today is a very special day because…” 

Dazai claps his hands together and sings out, “Today is Chuuya’s birthday!”

You sit there, dead panned as you stare at dazai. Maybe murder isn’t that bad of an option after all and you shouldn’t let Dazai dictate whether he dies by your hands or not, that’s not really his decision to make anyways. What's a little scolding from Kunikida? Compared to the daily headaches you get from the brunette sitting next to you it was nothing.

You’re baffled, completely gobsmacked, for three reasons.

The first reason being why the hell would dazai have kept this pertinent information from you? He knows how you feel about Chuuya, he was regrettably the person you went to when you came to the devastating realization that you still had feelings for the now Port Mafia executive. He also knows how important birthdays are to you, so he should have told you sooner. Hell, the eccentric detective should have told you several days earlier. You suppose there’s nothing you can do about that now and should be happy that he didn’t let you go the entire day being ignorant.

The second reasoning is a little trickier. Why didn’t you know today was Chuuya's birthday? Yes, it’s true he had no idea when his birthday was back when you were both still a part of the Sheep. So, the question is when did he figure it out? How the hell did Dazai know when it was and you didn’t. Had it really never come up in conversation? You’re sure you would have remembered it if it had because that’s a pretty important detail, although you did manage to forget he didn’t have a birthday all those years ago, but you think you should get a pass for that considering those were different circumstances. You remember the date December twenty-seventh, the day he used to celebrate as his birthday. The day you have celebrated with him in the past. Dazai knowing Chuuya’s real birthday is just another glaring example showing just how little you know each other now in adulthood.

The last reason is what has you scrambling out of your seat and checking your phone desperately to find last minute gifts. Suddenly all knowledge you have of the Port Mafia executive vanishes. What are his favorite things? His favorite food, his favorite wine, his favorite flowers, even his favorite movie. All of the things you can possibly think of being easily obtainable escape you at this moment. 

You think you might actually cry. 

Dazai, who was watching in amusement, furrows his brow in slight concern as he watches the way your anxiety spiking manifests physically. He can see it in your unfocused eyes — you’re spiraling. Something in the pit of his stomach twists. Guilt, most likely. He was just trying to have a bit of fun with you but now he has to face the consequences of his actions and suddenly he’s not having fun anymore. The realization that you hadn’t just forgotten the slug’s birthday but never even knew when it is decidedly not funny.

Dazai has forgotten one crucial detail, he forgot how important birthdays truly are to you. Which he thinks is so featherheaded of him when you had made his birthday last year only one out of a handful he’s ever actually enjoyed. Maybe he was being greedy. Maybe even a little spiteful, he had a penchant for doing things out of spite, one trait that has stuck with him even now that he’s with the ADA. Maybe he didn’t want Chuuya to experience the same thing, he didn’t really deserve it after everything he put you through, but then again neither did Dazai—not really and especially not after he kept so much from you when you had trusted him.

“I can't believe you, Dazai. I really thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore. Why the hell would you wait until the very last minute to tell me that?” You curse under your breath as you simultaneously search up vintage wines that are up to chuuya’s taste and begin to pack up your belongings to leave for the day. You groan as you realize all of the wines are wildly expensive. “Jesus Christ, how well does the mafia pay? These prices can cover at least a year's worth of groceries.”

The cheapest of the labels you’re looking at are a mis-batch from a few decades ago that had been bottled incorrectly and mislabeled. Even then they are still well out of your price range and probably taste awful. Sure you have savings but you aren’t even sure of what type of red wine Chuuya prefers. 

You have to switch tactics, but before you can, Dazai snatches the phone out of your hand and starts pushing you towards the exit of the agency. “Dazai- what-!?” 

“Hush, Belladonna. I’m going to help you out just this once.” You struggle to keep your feet planted but it’s no use because Dazai has always been deceptively strong.

You glance back at him over your shoulder with an exasperated expression, “What have I told you about call-“

“Yeah yeah. Let me have this. I am helping you after all.” He waves his hand dismissively and you narrow your eyes back at him, because he says that as if he isn’t the reason you’re in this mess to begin with. “We'll be back later Kunikida-kun.”

“Dazai- what the hell- where are you taking me?!” Dazai ignores your protests and shoves you out the door.

Chuuya has been checking his phone almost obsessively all day. He's not even sure what it is exactly that he’s waiting for. The executive has received birthday wishes from everyone that’s already aware of what today is. So why the hell was he still hoping for one more?

As if he didn’t just convince himself no one else is going to text or call him, Chuuya picks up his phone from the center console in his car and checks for any new notifications. The ginger chuckles humorlessly at himself. It’s almost pathetic how worked up he is over a single birthday greeting from a single person. He hadn’t even told you when his birthday was—he’s actually pretty sure you’re not even aware that Chuuya now knows when his birthday is. So, why would you just happen to know? 

Maybe that damn bandaged freak clued you in on what today was. Chuuya scoffs at the ridiculous thought, as if. He climbs out of his car shaking his head. Dazai is ever the self serving bastard, there is no way he would do Chuuya a favor like that. Still, there was a pang of hope because despite Dazai being Dazai, the ginger was well aware of just how much you mean to the detective and he thought just maybe that mackerel would have told you as a favor to you.

The trek up from the parking garage to his apartment is agonizing. He couldn’t help himself, he’s been checking his notifications methodically every thirty seconds. Each time he’s disappointed by the absence of your contact icon and name. 

Chuuya really only has himself to blame, he should just put aside his damn pride and give you a call to ask for you to come over and spend what’s left of his birthday together, but he can’t seem to bring himself to do that.

It’s so pathetic.

The elevator dings and the executive steps out only to instantly realize something is off. Chuuya is quick to activate his ability, the smell of food being cooked and the noise of pots and pans being sifted through in his kitchen instantly have him on high alert. How the hell did someone get into his apartment? This complex is a high security building with Chuuya not being the only executive nor the only person from the Port Mafia living in this building. 

Chuuya quietly rounds the corner to his kitchen, careful not to make a single sound as he uses his ability to just barely hover over the floorboards, fully ready to subdue whoever found it smart to enter his home without permission when he recognizes the figure humming over a pan of food. 

“God damnit, Doll, I thought you were an intruder- the hell are ya doin’ here?!” You let out a startled yelp and Chuuya quickly releases his ability not wanting to scare you more than he already has.

You stare frozen at the ginger wide eyed and mouth agape for a few moments. Chuuya watches as your mouth flaps open and close while you try to form a sentence but your words seem to get stuck in your throat after the start he gave you. Before you can force out an explanation, your timer goes off and you perk up. Chuuya can barely keep up as you don his oven mitts and begin to pull something out of the oven. You move so naturally around Chuuya's kitchen that he can almost imagine this was just a regular thing you did with him. 

The executive can feel his face heat up as he lets his imagination run wild and he tries desperately to shake the thought off altogether but the sound of you humming and still running around his kitchen with ease is not helping.

The gravity manipulator clears his throat and tries to coax any information out of you so he wasn’t so damn confused. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“Ah…Well…You see…” You finally stop to look at him, finally finding your voice, you point your spatula at one of his bar stools where a tan trench coat is draped over it.

Chuuya glares at the article of clothing, almost practicalling snarling at it. “Don’t tell me you let that freak roam around my apartment?”

“Who do you take me for? No, absolutely not. He said he was just going to the bathroom.” 

Chuuya doesn’t seem satisfied by that answer. “How long ago was that?”

A look of realization crosses your face and you both know what your answer is going to be. Too long, he has been gone for too long and probably started snooping around just like Chuuya was worried about. One look at your face and the ginger knows that you’ve come to the same conclusion. You’ve become too trusting of the brunette, Chuuya knows that you knew better, that you probably should have kicked dazai out the moment he had served his purpose of getting you into this apartment. Although Chuuya does know better than anyone else just how convincing Dazai can be, it’s hard to argue with him.

You stand there sheepishly, guilt written all over your face and Chuuya lets out a sigh of defeat, because how the hell is he supposed to blame you for Dazai’s schemes? “It’s fine. I’ll look for him in a minute. First, you never told me what you’re doing here.”

“Ah- I wanted to cook you something special. You’re always doing the cooking and as much as I appreciate and adore your food, I thought I’d return the favor today.” You fiddle with the oven mitts in your hands, twisting them anxiously and the sight makes Chuuya’s heart swell so suddenly that he has to look away before he bursts. “I also got you a present…But you don’t get to open that until after dinner.”

It’s funny how one small gesture from you makes Chuuya’s worries disappear in an instant. “Why would you do all this for me?”

The executive doesn’t want to get his hopes up but he’s pretty sure he has an idea as to why you’re doing all this. Why Dazai helped you break into his apartment. Why you’re putting together a home cooked meal for him. You know, Dazai must have actually done Chuuya a favor and told what today’s significance is. No, that’s not it, the detective did it for you. Either way, the ginger is grateful for it.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” You tilt your head at him in puzzlement, like it’s simply the most obvious thing in the world.

Chuuya swears you steal all his breath with just one look. His chest tightens even more than it did previously and a fond smile creeps up his cheeks and settles in his bicolored eyes. He probably looks like a fool, but he just can’t really bring himself to care how he looks right now. His focus zeroed in on you. 

The ginger manages to let out an astonished chuckle. “It is, yeah. It’s my birthday.”

Chuuya can’t help how elated he is, this is what he’s wanted all day. He couldn’t bring himself to just outright tell you it was his birthday, he didn’t want it to seem like an obligation. But, god, did he want to hear the words fall from your gorgeous lips. Your voice drips in honey like always as you softly speak the greeting.

“Happy birthday, Chuuya.” Your smile is warm, igniting a fire inside of him and creating a heat that pools in his chest.

Chuuya lets out another chuckle, this one far more breathier than the last one, his cheeks hurting from just how widely he’s smiling. “So, I guess Dazai told you then? Thank you, Doll. Whatcha’ makin’?”

“Yeah, Dazai told me, he thought I already knew and just forgot…He also told me that after all these years, your favorite food is still rice?” You scrunch up your nose at him. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard by the way. C’mon Chuuya. rice? After all these years of being with the Port Mafia, you’d think you’d have a better palate than that.”

Chuuya lets out an almost giddy laugh. He can’t help himself, having you here doing something like this for him makes him feel light. It’s much like a feather floating, being carried by a gentle breeze and what a soothing breeze you are. More than just a breath of fresh air.  But it’s not just like a feather, it’s also like the light that shines down on someone, a ray of sunshine blanketing one in warmth. That’s what you are, what you have always been to Chuuya. 

He’s never been able to explain it, he’s never been able to explain why you’ve made him feel this way since day one but regardless of that, you just do.

This whole scenario is all so domestic, although Chuuya would much rather be making the food with you, he’s also not going to complain about you making him dinner. Maybe next time you come over, because no way is this going to be the last time you come over. Maybe you two can cook one of your favorite dishes next time. The idea alone makes his stomach flutter, somehow the thought makes him feel even giddier than he was when you told him what you were doing for him and why.

Chuuya can’t keep denying the power you hold over him anymore. 

He shrugs at you, a smile still plastered on his face. “It's diverse. There's a lot you can do with rice. I bet we aren’t just having rice, am I right?”

“Well…no. Of course we aren’t. That would be psychotic. Eating plain white rice for your birthday dinner? Absolutely not. I'm making Oyakodon. I hope that’s ok…” Chuuya watches you intently as your expression shifts back into an anxious frown. 

The ginger thinks he can figure out what the sudden change in your demeanor is about. You know that he’s used to fine dining, being in the Port Mafia it’s common for meetings with allies to be hosted over dinner. You’re worried about your cooking not fitting to the standards of fine dining. He understands your hesitation but rice is not a dish someone can really mess up.

The executive watches you as your hands falter in plating both of your meals. You had finished cooking not long after he entered the apartment, solely focusing on getting everything mixed and prepared. It all smells absolutely divine. He can’t imagine he won’t enjoy the meal you’ve made and even if he didn’t like it, he would never tell you so.

Chuuya walks over to you and presses his gloved finger between your brows and rubs it in circles to massage the crinkles away. “Don’t worry so much. It smells exquisite, I love Oyakodon. I'm sure it’ll taste delicious. Do you need any help?”

“No. Not from you, this is your birthday dinner. No work for you—Well, actually maybe some work for you. Can you go get dazai? I made him a to-go plate. He tried to invite himself to dinner and this was the only thing I could think of to make him happy and still get him to leave.” You pick up a disposable tupperware container filled to the brim with the most delicious looking and smelling food Chuuya has ever laid his eyes on. 

You’re too good to that lazy bastard.

The ginger chuckles and shakes his head. “Sometimes I think you spoil that bastard too much, y’know that?”

You hum, barely listening to him while shooing him away. “Yeah, yeah. Now shoo. Go get him so we can kick him out.” 

Chuuya puts his hand up in defense as he walks out of the room to find the unwanted guest. His first stop is both hallway bathrooms but, just as chuuya predicted, no sack of bones to be found in either. Naturally the executive checks his own room next. Empty, again and he’s starting to wonder if the brunette is even still here. He moves on to the next room, a guest bedroom that’s been collecting dust for a while now.

The executive doesn’t even need to walk through the threshold to know that he’s found Dazai finally. The lanky figure laying in his extra room has him breathing out a sigh of relief. It's strange to find dazai, of all people, sleeping so soundly. Chuuya still has half a mind to rudely wake up the detective as he notices the unopened expensive bottle of whiskey being tightly held in his clutches, clinging onto it like a child would with a stuffed animal.

The gravity manipulator lets out another sigh, this time in resignation. If it wasn’t for dazai, you wouldn’t have known about chuuya’s birthday. He supposes that he could cut the damn mackerel a break just this once, God only knows how long it’s been since Dazai has gotten some decent rest. The ginger still can’t help but to roll his eyes as he closes the door, only leaving it slightly ajar, knowing Dazai doesn’t care for the dark.

He turns on his heel to make his way back to you only to start at the sight of your figure.

“What was that about spoiling him?” Your tone is teasing but the soft smile on your face is enough to tell Chuuya you appreciate his decision in letting the brunette be.

What the hell were you doing to him? You were making him go soft, normally he wouldn’t think twice about barreling into that room and snatching the bottle of alcohol from that bastard's hands and kicking him out. Now he was letting him get away with it because of your fondness for Dazai.

He wonders if you realize just how much of a hold you have on him, you could easily bring the Port Mafia executive to his knees if you wanted to.

Chuuya would let you get away with it too.

He clicks his tongue and looks away in embarrassment at being caught. “Yeah, well who knows when that jackass last slept. It would take me forever to wake him up and kick him out. Easier to just leave him there.”

You smile at him in amusement and the ginger can feel the way his cheeks heat up, a blush dusting his cheeks and ears in a reddish-pink hue. He wants to say he hates this, the way you make him feel like that fifteen year old boy all over again. He wants so badly to deny it to himself but he can’t bring himself to do it. He enjoys the nostalgic feeling he gets when he’s with you. He loves getting to watch you now as an adult and still have some of the same mannerisms you had back then. He loves that he gets to see you grow with him again once again.

He loves you.

Chuuya thinks he always has. It would explain why you made him feel so comfortable. He can’t believe it took him this long to figure it out.

The ginger shakes off the thought, not ready to tell you what he just discovered quite yet, so instead he rolls his eyes at your amusement and starts pushing you back towards the dining room. “Forget it. C’mon, let’s go eat that delicious meal you prepared.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever the birthday boy wants, he gets.” 

Chuuya almost trips over his own feet at the notion, his mind wandering to places it really ought to not wander to. He’s sailing across dangerous waters, his mind on the verge of drowning if he doesn't tread carefully. You’re partially to blame though. Wording it in such a way that you had to know just how suggestive it sounds. 

But as he looks over at you, your smile is warm and your cheeks rosier than usual.

Oh. You did mean yourself, but Chuuya something in his chest tightens and he thinks it means something deeper than just his previous inappropriate thoughts. How deplorable, Chuuya is truly a bastard that doesn’t deserve someone like you but he’s also selfish and doesn’t know when to stifle an impulse this strong. 

“Really? Anything he wants?” Chuuya’s breath hitches when your response is almost instantaneous.

You look up at him earnestly and repeat yourself, this time it comes out softer as you nod your head. “Anything he wants.”

A year later you lead a blindfolded Chuuya to the roof of the nicest hotel in Yokohama, far more prepared than last year. You made Dazai help with putting this whole thing together. You both spent a month planning this party and it was going to be perfect. Everyone Chuuya cared about was here. You even pulled some strings to invite a couple of old friends.

You smile proudly at your hard work paying off and you haven’t even gotten to the best part: Chuuya’s reaction. 

“Okay, stay right here and no peeking until I say so, got it?” You let go of the executive to join the crowd waiting quietly to greet the guest of honor. Dazai has made himself front and center, slinking his arm around your shoulder and leaning into you with a satisfied smile.

Your nerves overtake you for just a split second, much like they did the year previously when you cooked for him for the first time—which he ended up loving and now when he’s asked what his favorite food is he always answers by saying it’s anything you cook for him. Then you hear it, a reassuring chuckle comes from the person you were always meant to be with, light as a feather like it always has been when he’s with you. Your cheeks flare up at the noise, knowing that it’s a side of him only you really get to see. A rare sight for anyone else that’s here. 

His smile is relaxed and he tilts his head, somehow looking directly at you whilst still being blindfolded. “The last time you surprised me on my birthday, you got me a bottle of wine that you definitely couldn't afford on that detective salary of yours, Baby. I’m kinda scared for your wallet to see what it is this year.”

Your cheeks heat up even more and Dazai has to stifle a giggle of his own. He had been the one to loan you the money for the ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. Where he got the money, you have no idea and frankly you think you’re okay with that. He only let you pay him back for half of it, he claimed he was letting the rest of it slide as his way of making it up to you for not telling you about the ginger’s birthday sooner. Who were you to argue with that logic? Especially when you fed him that night too.

“Just take the blindfold off, would you?” You try to sound annoyed but you’re too excited for him to see it all that your voice comes out a little too eager.

Time seems to slow down just a little when Chuuya reaches up to lift up the blindfold. At the same time all of the lights are being turned on and fireworks are being set off, courtesy of that one lemon guy who’s name you can never seem to remember, his eccentric appearance is always far too distracting for you to ever pay attention to his name. The sky is lit with various color combinations and you all shout surprise at the gravity manipulator. 

You watch him with a wide smile as he lights up with almost a childlike glee at the multitude of love being cast his way. This is the first time in a long time that he has actually looked younger than his—still young—age. His bicolored eyes twinkling in delight as they take in everything from the decorations to the fireworks to the overwhelming amount of people that have shown up for him. 

The moment he sets his eyes on you it’s all over. It’s almost as if you can feel the fireworks igniting in your stomach with the way he is looking at you in utter adoration, knowing exactly who put in the most work to make this happen. He’s moving towards you before you can even react—before you can even comprehend what’s happening he’s right in front of you, sweeping you off of your feet and twirling you around while laughing like an idiot in love. You didn’t think moments like this would ever exist for someone like you, they’re usually reserved for fairytales and happy endings, but maybe this was the start of your own.

Maybe after everything, you deserve this.

Everyone naturally disperses to give you and Chuuya your space before socializing and wishing him a happy birthday properly. 

The ginger is holding your cheeks in his hands gently, still smiling brightly at you. “You did all of this for me?”

You smile at him just as warmly and nod your head. He lets out an incredulous laugh, He scans his surroundings once again, this time noting the people in attendance. His gaze falters when he notices two figures anxiously watching from the edge of the party. Eyes widening his head whips back over to you.

“Is that-”

You nod your head again. “Yeah. I tracked them down for you. You wanna go say hi? Because I definitely would love to catch up.”

Chuuya lets out another laugh but this one cracks in the middle, clearly overtaken by emotion and you think he knows he’s about to burst because he leans down and connects his forehead with your own — suddenly it’s just the two of you standing in the middle of this rooftop. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know that? I couldn’t ask for a more perfect gift than your love. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Carrot top. Always.”

RBs are always appreciated <3

[shizu-nagita]

I held you close, but at what cost?

AN: First fanfiction on his hellsite- anyways um. I don’t know Sage of Truth/ Fount of Knowledge has me in some of the biggest headlocks . And I don’t know how to do 2nd PoV so… this is a test run to see what kinda writing style I like-

He’s been watching, for quite a long time now actually.

You’re dedicated to your cause, always running across the academy halls with scrolls and books in your hands, as you narrowly step to the side when people turn the corner.

[ It makes something warm bubble up inside of him.]

In most of Shadow Milk Cookie’s lifetime, he has rarely ever seen someone like you, honest and true and willing to see the harsh truths of reality and most important of all, accept them.

It’s admirable really.

And so when he gets the chance to lecture you, to foster your curiosity and enthusiasm for the truth, he is beyond elated .

[ For once in centuries, someone understands-]

But you’re a mere mortal, you don’t live as long as he does, and inevitably, he will watch you fade away throughout the course of time, as the world forgets you.

[ Those words don’t sit right in his mind.]

And so he clings, he holds onto each and everyone of your words, and cherishes them even if you don’t know it, his mind memorizing the way your hair glows in the sunset, how your eyes brighten when you explain your favorite subjects.

He walks beside you, he gently walks you through the things you don’t understand, he’s practically attached to your side.

And what amuses him the most,

[ what makes him feel noticed-]

Is the fact you don’t mind, in fact you chatter along with him, indulging him when he goes into a debate about whether or not a tomato is a fruit or vegetable .

[ Most of the time, people just listen to his words, not the true meaning behind them.]

You were a precious jewel within the confines of coal, meant to be cherished and protected.

And so he did, he kept you away from the dark straying wisps of deceit, and attempted to give you the life most wouldn’t achieve within decades.

He gave you all of him, and you gave your soul on return, always coming back to him when you two parted ways, always smiling and laughing .

[ He doesn’t want to see you go.]

[ He doesn’t want to be alone again.]

Even as you grew older, his face staying the same , even as you stopped remembering things, he stayed there with you.

“Shadow Milk Cookie… Are you sure you aren’t tired of me yet?”

He immediately turns his head, confusion in his eyes as he leans down head tilting as his robes billow out.

“What… Why did that question even come to you? Have I done something? Did anyone degrade you?”

[ Please stay-]

You shake your head, a gentle laugh escaping your lips as you raise a hand, attempting to wave away his worries as Shadow Milk Cookie’s mind goes into overdrive.

“No no!! Not at all! Just… curious.”

You never knew that he wanted you to stay.

that he needed you to be by him.

And as the years went by, the hollow aching feeling in his heart , where his soul jam was, begun to grow, to writhe and twist as you grew weaker and weaker with age.

[ Keep them alive, you have to-]

The sage of truth was beginning to falter.

[ you can not leave me you have to stay, you can not leave]

After eons of being alone, after watching people he once knew, once admired grow weary and weak with time, submitting to the whims of life and death, after he got a taste of warmth.

He didn’t want to let go of you.

[ He was tired of being alone .]

[ He was tired of having no one that listened-]

And so, the whispers of deceit slowly trickled into his mind, weaving fates of where both of you were happy, where you would remain in an eternal paradise, where you both would forever be happy .

Shadow milk cookie tried to resist, tried to step away from the temptation of eternity, he continued to guide and lead others to the truth.

But then came the day you died

The letter in his hands fell, dropping to the ground with a soft thunk as his vision blurred, the words he never wished to see now before him, as if mocking him.

[ My condolences, Sage of Truth, but your beloved is dead.]

….

That was the day he abandoned his reality.

[The day he resolved to find you.]

He retreated from the light because it was too scorching, illuminating the harsh truths of reality, illuminating the fact that you had left him.

He took cover in the shadows, because that was the only place where nothing could ever come to light, when you could only see the bare minimum and create the rest of the story .

But eventually, the shadows turn to light.

[ Tell me, just what was I supposed to do without you?]

[Was I just supposed to let you turn to dust? Fade into a mere memory? I couldn’t do that.]

And so, he poured over texts, using his position to manipulate others with deceitful lies, and the blinding truth as he tried to bring you back.

[ He just wanted someone who understood.]

And yet…

You could never get what you wanted, for the world was never fair, the world could’ve give you everything for a mere second, and take it all away and leave you with nothing for eons.

Left alone, in the dark, deceived and deceiver.

He waits, up until the day you come back to him and he can hold you back in his arms.

[ He doesn’t know how much longer he can.]

[renkyol]

This might have already been said but:

As much I'm loving all of The Pitt fanfiction, I've noticed a lot of people don't seem to understand how the med school and residency system works and it's annoying me. The basic order goes med student->resident->fellow->attending.

If you are a med student, you do not yet have your licence to practice medicine and have not matched to your specialty. If you are working, then you are completing a rotation, which is usually 4-12 weeks, depending on the specialty. Other healthcare disciplines (physiotherapy, occupational therapy, respiratory therapy, etc) refer to these as work placements. You do not get paid for these placements; actually, you pay to complete these placements. Whittaker and Javadi are med students.

At the end of your fourth year, in the States, you would write the United States Medical Licensing Examination(USMLE). In Canada, you write the Medical Council of Canada Qualifying Examination (MCCQE). The USMLE is completed in three steps. Steps one and two are typically written when you are a med student; step three is written at the end of your first year of residency. Provided you pass steps one and two, you are now a resident. Residents are doctors. Residency is a three to seven year training period in a specialty, e.g., emergency medicine, psychiatry, pediatrics, etc. You are matched into your specialty. Matching is, to my understanding, just the most complicated job hiring system in the world. The most important bit to know from a writers perspective is that there is a really good chance that a resident does not have a say in their specialty. A person preparing for residency will go on interviews and rank their preferred specialties and workplaces (meaning the hospital they complete their residency at), and then the hospitals and the departments decide to accept them or not. If you do not get matched, you can go through a process called SOAP, which places you with positions that did not get filled. The only way to change your specialty is to re-start the residency process from scratch. Santos is a first year resident, meaning she would have only passed the steps one and two of the USMLE that spring. This means she is most likely matched into emergency medicine. Although I learned recently that some surgery residencies have their residents complete a year of emergency medicine before starting in the OR. My personal headcanon is that Santos was soaped into emergency medicine, and that is why she was like that in the beginning. Mel and McKay are second year residents, which means they have been working as doctors for at least a year and already have emergency medicine as their specialty. They most likely would have completed all three steps to the USMLE It is mentioned in the first episode that Mel did her first year at a VA hospital which is apparently a common thing to do in the states. Mohan is a third year resident. I think this makes Robbie's comments to Mohan about switching to psychiatry really mean cause he's basically telling her to consider re-starting her residency when she's more than halfway finished. Collins, Langdon, and Garcia are fourth year or senior residents. Emergency medicine has a four year residency, so this means that they are almost done with their residencies. Surgery can have a five year or longer residency, so Garcia might still be a resident in the next season. Due to Langdon having to take most of the year away from work, he will have to re-start his fourth year.

After your residency is completed, you have the option to complete a fellowship. Not all specialties require a fellowship. These are take anywhere from 1 to 3 years. Emergency medicine does not require the completion of a fellowship, although there are a lot of options available. These are basically highly specialized training on topics in your specialty. For example, John Hopkins offers a fellowship in combat medicine for those specializing in emergency medicine.

After all of that: congratulations, you are now a doctor in attending aka an attending doctor. This means no more exams, just a re-licencing test every 5 years. You can take on residents and med students of your own to supervise, or not. No one is going to make you. You can also easily move now as you do not have to stay with the hospital you matched to for your residency. Getting a job goes back to the much more normal and not as stressful process of a job instead of the hellscape that is the residency matching program. Robbie, Abbot, Shen, Parker, and Walsh are attendings.

(Edit: Parker is a senior resident. I think I saw Parker's energy and assumed she was already an attending)

[galedekarios]

Not sure if you still do Gale meta asks so if you don’t, feel free to ignore me, but after replaying BG3 recently and getting to Gale’s third artifact explanation, I realized I’m actually a bit lost on his character on that slot.

I am of the opinion that Mystra groomed Gale and their relationship was unhealthy (I’m pretty sure you’re on agreement with that.) For a long time I thought Gale sought out to bring her the Netherese orb in an act of love and because he did not feel worthy or equal to her, but when he explained to me again I noticed at first his motives seemed to be based in the fact that Mystra closed veils to him despite how close he was to them while with her. So it leaves me a little lost because he also swore it was to serve her better, which I don’t get how that could be.

My current personal understanding is Gale, being with Mystra, was constantly looking into the “precipice” others could not access, and Mystra restricted that as she did with others. Gale, feeling like he wasn’t enough, desired to instead prove himself worthy in her eyes to access this knowledge. Perhaps it was still an effort to feel equal to someone he could not be? I’d love an explanation, ty!

thank you for your message!

yes, i am still doing them. i apologise for the wait, but they do take a lot of time, with the amount of research and time that goes into them (outlining, writing, putting together quotes and screenshots if needed). i hope you are still seeing this! 🖤

as for your confusion as to gale's motives:

i think the fault doesn't lie with you. i think the fault lies with larian.

the problem with re-writes and purging

i don't think your confusion is down to you not understanding, but rather it's larian's fault for their at times sloppy re-writes of early access in general to re-work it for the full version based on the fan feedback they received, as well as fitting the story they originally had planned within the scope of the possible.

they rewrote characters (gale, wyll, shadowheart, astarion, etc), they rewrote entire plotlines around factions and npcs while cutting others (halsin's and ketheric's relationship and how it pertained to the shadowcurse and isobel, cutting candlekeep and the astral plane, etc).

they softened up a lot of characters -- gale included -- and, important to your question, they sought to largely remove any dialogue that hinted at lingering feelings or had too many mentions of mizora from wyll and mystra from gale to placate players who felt upset by those mentions made -- even though it (imo) harmed the overall narrative for these characters -- both of which larian discussed prior to release and after release in their panels from hell and interviews, for example:

What is, in your folks opinion, is the funniest (and non-spoilery) addition or story that’s occurred because of either fan reception/feedback? Baudelaire Welch: We mercilessly purged any references to Gale or Wyll being hung up on their exes.

the fandom in general has talked many times about larian and their tendency to adopt popular fandom narratives and/or compromise their stories and characters over fan feedback so i won't rehash it at this point once again, although you can be sure i do have some less than charitable thoughts about it all.

however, i'm of the opinion however that these "purges" often left scars in the stories and character, and they left old traces that lead to a poorer characterisation for it, they messed up timelines, motivations or caused inconsistencies in characterisation and lore -- especially because in gale and wyll's cases, these "purges" were not substituted with new scenes.

things were only taken and scrapped, and nothing new was added in its stead.

the "purging" and re-write of gale included not only changing aspects of his personality, but removing scenes that were very much integral to his character and to understand not only what happened to him and mystra, but also the direness of his situation, the sheer loss of power and status he suffered -- from a waterdhavian archwizard able to wield silverfire to a, essentially, level 1 adventurer struggling to hold onto a fraction of the control he once held over the weave.

these two "purged" scenes are the loss scene and the deer stew scene, as well as a rewrite of the first romance scene, which then took place during the tiefling party.

i have detailed many of these scenes and cut dialogues in my series re: early access gale's cut content. if you wish to read it, you can do so here.

early access gale vs full release gale: why did he seek out the orb?

the loss scene and the tiefling party scene revealed early access gale's intentions: he sought the orb to proof his love to mystra and to win her back after she abandoned him.

it was the actions of, as he puts it, a very young and very naive man, who was in love for the first time, lost that love and tried to win it back.

i think it's very important to keep in mind here also that originally, gale's entire story was set on different premise than the full release version storyline. i, and others, have speculated that he was physically even more affected by the netherese orb housed inside of his body to the point of where auntie ethel was able to smell the rot on him. i have written another meta on that original storyline here.

but back to the dialogue explaining why gale sought the orb as it was in early access:

i have written down and edited here a part of the tiefling party scene after the protag and gale spent the night together, which is when he would reveal the full extent of what happened mystra, after having hinted at it in the loss and in other smaller dialogues before:

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra. Protag: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  Gale: Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely. Protag: The veils draped across the Weave? Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave’s surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while, as we enjoyed each other. Gale: Alas it was Mystra’s interest that didn’t last. One day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken. Protag: Poor wizard Gale: Poor wizard. Silly wizard too, for he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Protag: What happened next? Gale: Like so many of the heartbroken, he did something infinitely foolish. One has to think big if one seeks to win back a goddess. So the wizard thought big. Protag: Define big. Gale: Here goes; once upon a time, very long ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower to be precise. I’ll save his story for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed but not quite, and his entire empire – Netheril – came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, rolling like the prime chaos that outdates creation. A fragment of it was caught and sealed away in a book. No ordinary book, mind you; a tome of gateways that contained within it a bubble of Astral Plane. It was a fragment of primal Weave locked out of time – locked away from Mystra herself. ‘What if’, the silly wizard thought. ‘What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the Goddess?” Protag: What was the answer to his question? Gale: The answer was to try, and the outcome was to fail. Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you. Narrator: You feel the tadpole quiver as you realise Gale is letting you in. Into the dark. You see through Gale’s eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened. Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. It’s teeth, it’s claws, it’s unstoppable as it digs through you and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever hungry… Protag: Yank your hand away. Gale: Terrifying isn’t it? And that is only the beginning This Netherese taint... this orb, for lack of a better word, is balled up inside my chest. And it needs to be fed. As long as it absorbs Weave it remains stable – to an extent. The moment it becomes unstable, however... Protag: You will die, obviously.. Gale: Rather worse, actually.  It will erupt. I don’t know the exact magnitude of the eruption, but given my studies of Netherese magic, I’d say even a fragment as small as the one I carry… It’d level a city the size of Waterdeep. Gale: It is my truth, finally revealed. It is this folly that led Mystra to abandon me completely. I can only hope you won’t abandon me as well. After all we’ve been through... After the night we spent together. Surely we can brave even this side by side.

the reason for the full release version of gale is curiosity and thirst for knowledge and wanting to feel equal to mystra:

Gale: Such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady of Mysteries. The goddess Mystra. She revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. In time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover. Protag: Are you telling me you made love to a goddess? Gale: Oh yes. We enjoyed each other's company - body, mind and soul. But even so, I desired more. You see, no matter how powerful a wizard we mortals can become, we never scratch more than the surface of the Weave. Mystra keeps us in check. There are boundaries she doesn't let us cross. Yet every time I was with her, I stood on the precipice, gazing into the wonders that lay beyond. I sought to cross her boundaries. Protag: How exactly did you try to cross those boundaries? Gale: I tried to convince her. I pouted, I pleaded, I swore my ambition was only to serve her better. But she only smiled and told me to be contented. As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and yet I wasn't satisfied. So I sought to prove myself worthy to her instead. We come now to the crux of my folly. Shall I share the story behind it, or would you rather head straight to its sordid finale? Protag: I'm intrigued. Tell me all. Gale: Very well. Here goes: Once upon a very long time ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower, to be precise. I'll save his history for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed, but not quite, and his entire empire - Netheril - came crashing down around him as he turned to stone. The magic unleashed that day was phenomenal, roiling like the prime chaos that outdates creation. Even the Weave itself could not withstand the onslaught. It fractured, then shattered, and all magic was lost to the mortal realms until the day Mystra returned. She restored the Weave, reuniting all its scattered shards. Or so I thought, until in the course of my studies I learned of a book. A Netherese tome in which a piece of the fractured Weave had been sealed beyond her reach. 'What if', I thought, 'What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess?' Protag: So your grand plan was akin to emptying a cup of water in the sea. Brilliant. Gale: I certainly thought so. Sometimes there is great strength to be found in symbolism. I was certain that this deed of raw power draped in romance would convince Mystra to take me by the hand and welcome me into her hitherto forbidden domains. I was mistaken. I obtained the fabled book and took it into my study. As for what happened next... Here. Place your hand over my heart. Let me show you. Narrator: *You feel the tadpole quiver as you realise Gale is letting you in.* *Into the dark.* *You see through Gale's eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened.* *Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces.* *Its teeth, its claws, it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever-hungry...*

in conclusion, early access gale did it out of love for mystra as a young man, as a chosen, and as a romantic trying to win back his lost first love, however naive and grand (and ultimately doomed) the gesture was, which was then cut to appease those who thought gale was "too hung up" on mystra, and changed around, purging some scenes and dialogue while keeping others.

(on a tangent: this also once again shows, imo, how ultimately it's completely futile to try and appease these sort of demands/complaints since this is still very much a big complaint that is levied against gale's character.)

it's now more about power, curiosity, knowledge and a desire to be equal, while the new narrative of the full release version still to some extent kept the relationship with mystra intact.

with the removal of the deer stew scene, of the loss scene, and all those little dialogues, purging and cutting away to re-write gale's devotion to mystra as the embodiment of weave and his first true love, while still leaving in some of that, with lines from those very conversation, is where your (as well as other's) confusion is coming from.

i'm only rambling now so i will stop and say that i hope this was at least somewhat helpful for you!