#learning to be more comfortable with sharing my things

[russellbee]

YOU'D THINK THEY'D KNOW BY NOW (OP81)

oscar piastri x fewtrell!golfer!reader (she/her) summary. you and oscar have both started your professional careers, so it's the perfect time to share your relationship with the world. pr makes you wait a bit and chaos ensues. (mainly smau, a little bit of writing) (2.7k) warnings. for sexual implications (but no actual sex) and nosy fans. andi's note!! so this is kind of a condensed version of a series i might write (though i'm not sure). anyway i hope you all enjoy bc i had a lot of fun making this!

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september, 2022 ->

Lando Norris why does my new teammate follow u

and why do u follow him

whats goin on there 🤨🤨

You lan please tell me ur joking

Lando Norris wait.

HES UR BF?? Ur Bf OScAR?

You …yes???

Lando Norris HES THE GUY WITH THE BITING THING??? 😨😨

You i am blocking you

never bring that up again oh my god

Lando Norris …is it the teeth? he looks like a bunny 🐰

YOU HAVE BLOCKED LANDO NORRIS.

january 2023 ->

yourusername

[caption 1: some fun b4 i go pro...] [caption 2: 📍orlando, florida] [caption 3: @.maxfewtrell @.landonorris]

story replies:

oscarpiastri i think i might have to stick with mini golf 😅

yourusername but i like teaching you golf ☹️☹️ oscarpiastri you just like holding my hands yourusername well duh

maxfewtrell i don't think we can play golf with oscar again

yourusername DONT BE MEAN yourusername he's my bf who cares if he can't swing maxfewtrell i do! i've got a golf ball-sized bruise on my thigh if you want proof yourusername stop crying, there's an ice machine in the hallway 😒

landonorris i am banning you from races idk if i can deal with you and oscar together

yourusername well ur not the fia...so i will now be attending every race i possibly can. just to terrorize you landonorris at least stay in his garage pls. yourusername ...did i tell you what pr said landonorris NO PLS I CANT yourusername it's just till belgium! landonorris brb planning my retirement

yourusername first pro tournament 😁 very happy to have this opportunity (and to be in florida again!)!! thank you @.hiltongrandvacations!

liked by oscarpiastri and others

gatorswgolf We miss you!

yourusername miss you all more!!! 🐊

logansargeant florida golf is always good 😌 (liked by yourusername)

user LOGAN??? user he's shooting his shot ↳ user let him live 😭😭

user that's my golfer 🥹

user like wydm she's pro now??? 😭☹️

user i think we need another quadrant video of her destroying lando and max in golf 😁 (liked by yourusername)

maxfewtrell swoosh!

landonorris swoosh!! yourusername alright why are you making fun of me... ↳ maxfewtrell we're reminding you of your humble origins ↳ yourusername 😒😒

landonorris your cat looks like he's crying...

yourusername leave him alone 💀 user her cat...?

february 2023 ->

"It's only a four hour difference." Oscar murmurs and you groan into his neck. "Don't remind me." Oscar's hands, warm and comforting, hold you against him. Your suitcase packed for Thailand and Oscar's packed for Bahrain sit near the couch you're lying on.

"We've had worse." He continues, his hand on your lower back squeezing your side in reassurance. You shift your head so you can see Oscar, his recently cut hair and soft smile. "I don't wanna share you, can you just be my trophy boyfriend?" His nose scrunches up when he tilts his head back as he laughs.

"I'd have to work on my golf knowledge before I can do that."

"I don't mind you being a little clueless. ‘Cause then I get to play teacher." You position your knees on either side of Oscar's hips, grinning down at him as you speak. A bright red flush builds on his neck and face. "I think everyone knows that's just your excuse to touch me on a public golf course."

"Obviously," You roll your eyes, face a little warm. Oscar grins, teeth and all. "It's not the worst way to learn when it's from you."

"Yeah?" Oscar sits up more so he's level with you. "Makes it more fun. Since...it's golf."

"Oscar!"

yourusername close friends story

[caption: i want my bf back. but thailand here i come 😭✈️🇹🇭]

story replies:

oscarpiastri we'll see eachother soon ❤️

yourusername ITS NOT SOON ENOUGH oscarpiastri miss you too! yourusername i love u and i miss you already 😭 (oscarpiastri reacted with ❤️)

maxfewtrell it's been like one day.

yourusername ur one strike from being kicked off my close friends maxfewtrell i actually might enjoy that. no more photos of you and oscar kissing yourusername ...ykw just for that i'm keeping you on it forever

logansargeant i'll treat him right while you're gone👍

yourusername YOU BETTER

march 2023 ->

sentosa golf club, singapore

yourusername a very good weekend! 🏆 thanks for having me, @.hsbcwomensgolf! see you soon @.f1 😁🇸🇦

liked by oscarpiastri and others

maxfewtrell alright we're never playing golf again

yourusername this is you admitting you're bad btw. 😁😁 maxfewtrell i was gonna congratulate you but i think i've changed my mind

landonorris share some champagne please? 😌🥂

yourusername it's gonna be flat by the time i see you again landonorris it's okay you can just buy another bottle yourusername nuh uh. you've got the money to buy it yourself! user my otp...i need them together now ↳ user i don't think max would ever let that happen ↳ user LET ME DREAM

user oscar in the likes? i see you op 👀

user he's BEEN here. he is never not here tbh...

user OMG YOU'RE GONNA BE AT JEDDAH???? (liked by yourusername)

Mclaren • MclarenF1

Lando & Oscar take a quiz on golf terms with @.yourusername! [Video attached]

Lando Norris Get destroyed @.OscarPiastri ↳ Oscar Piastri You've got the upperhand. I wasn't going to win anyway 🤷‍♂️

Y/N Fewtrell @.OscarPiastri you'll win next time 😉 ↳ Lando Norris I'm gonna put in all my effort so you don't rig it

yourusername jeddah things 🌺 (tagged landonorris)

liked by oscarpiastri and others

landonorris is there any trophy for golf quiz winner?

yourusername nope :) landonorris damn. all that and i get nothing yourusername cry about it

user soft launch and lando on the same post...hmmmm

user 🤔🤔 user building up an essay on why they're dating user you guys are insane 🙄 they're not even that close ↳ user she's literally only been seen with lando this week. who else would she be dating?? ↳ user i think you're forgetting the fact she was also seen with oscar... ↳ user they just met. don't be ridiculous

oscarpiastri it was nice seeing you!

yourusername you too!! 😊😊😊😊 maxfewtrell are you going insane user MAX??? user crazy behavior from the fewtrell siblings... ↳ user LITERALLY!! the emojis?? max's deleted comment?? what's going on 👀👀

april 2023 ->

yourusername close friends story

[caption: BIRTHDAY BOYYYYYY 🎂🎉!!!!! my amazing bf has turned 22 everyone go tell him happy birthday 😠]

story replies:

oscarpiastri i love you so much ❤️

yourusername if you actually loved me you'd come back to the flat early oscarpiastri On My Way! (you reacted with 😭)

maxfewtrell tell oscar i said happy birthday 🎊

yourusername 👍 maxfewtrell why did it take you 2 days to respond to this

may 2023 ->

yourusername public story

[caption: wasn't my best performance, but either way, thank you @.jmeaglelachamp for having me! time to go coast to coast ✈️ (📍 los angeles, california)]

story replies:

oscarpiastri can't wait to see you ❤️ you look great in orange 😍

yourusername i miss you!!!! yourusername the orange was for you i hate that color so much (oscarpiastri has reacted with ❤️)

oscarpiastri btw you did so well, don't beat yourself down

yourusername i love you so much yourusername now go do your pr lando is messaging me (oscarpiastri has reacted with 👎)

user the orange??? 👀👀👀

user • user

max f's sister wearing papaya at her tournament in la...interesting

user put some respect on her name 😭 she's literally a professional golfer not just max's sister ↳ user lmao literally. also the constant dating rumors in HER insta comments is crazy. keep that to yourself, you don't need to go telling her

user the 'time to go coast to coast' on her story...is she gonna be in miami?? ↳ user there's a tournament in new jersey next week, which is also on the east coast. she might just be flying there. ↳ user idk the papaya outfit seems like a hint. i have a feeling she's gonna be in miami ↳ user the delusions are crazy

Formula 1 • F1

@.yourusername is in the paddock, with Mclaren of course 😉 #F1 @.MclarenF1

user F1 ADMIN WHAT DO YOU KNOW

user where's the person who called me delusional. are you seeing this

user LANDO IN THE BACK you're kidding me like this can't be real

messages with logan sargeant 🦅

logan sargeant 🦅 oscar's snap says you're in a mcdonald's parking lot

can you get me an oreo mcflurry (00:19)

logan sargeant 🦅 how are you still in the parking lot WHAT ARE YOU DOING

logan sargeant 🦅 actually don't answer that (1:47)

you srry my phone died we got you the mcflurry

logan (3:28)

logan sargeant it's been 3 hours...

p sure oscar has my extra keycard btw

you alright he's dropping it off

sleep well 🤗

june 2023 ->

springfield, new jersey

yourusername OHHHH YEAHHH!!! a great weekend in new jersey, thank you @.kpmgwomenspga for having me!!!!!! 🏆🏆🏆🏆

liked by oscarpiastri and others

yourusername also smth coming soon...stay tuned 🤭

user can you just tell me now, my dms are open i swear i won't tell anyone user please. im not patient. please 😭🙏

oscarpiastri congrats! 👏🏆

yourusername thanks!!!! 😆

user alright...where is lando

user you cannot be serious. she's celebrating a win and you're speculating on her relationship?? ↳ user it's not that serious 🙄

maxfewtrell legend in the making 👑

yourusername why are you being nice... yourusername THANK YOU!!

user WHY HASNT LANDO COMMENTED

user lando hasn't even liked...WHERE ARE YOU LANDO

comments have been limited

sportsmag @.yourusername, a rookie in the LPGA discusses golf, relationships, f1, and her new found fame in our June edition. the full interview can found at our website sportsmag.com!

liked by yourusername and others

comments have been turned off

Y/N FEWTRELL TALKS GOLF, F1, FAME, AND ROMANCE WITH SPORTSMAG

June 30th, 2023 • Lola Lyon

In May earlier this year, I had the pleasure to meet with Y/n Fewtrell at a golf course (a personal favorite of hers) in Florida. She acts the same way she does on social media; energetic, snarky, yet kind. However, I noticed a shyer part of her personality when discussing the people and things she holds dear.

I seemed to be the first person to ask her about her relationship status — as an interviewer. The young golfer's comments have been full of relationship spec....

SUBSCRIBE TO READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE

user • user

alright i paid for the y/n fewtrell article, will be posting some very important quotes below 🧵

user "Before she told me about her boyfriend, she told me about her feelings on the speculation. 'I never expected my relationship to be a big deal to so many people...it's a lot sometimes to see people assuming I'm dating a close friend or just a stranger. It can be funny though to see how many jumps people have to make to associate me with someone else. So far, not many people have been right."

user "I then asked her what her favorite rumor was. Her reply is something I'm sure not a lot of people could guess. "My favorite?...I mean— the ones including Lando are always so weird. He's my brother's best friend, and he's a close friend of mine. But I'm not dating him. I don't know if I could live an entire week with him as my boyfriend [laughter]. He's a great guy but, yeah. Not dating him."

user "Golf, according to her, has always been a staple in her life. 'I first played golf in Singapore, and I didn't love it at first. But, Max had played before so he was better than me, naturally. [laughter] It made me so mad. So I just kept playing, I started practicing and watching tournaments on TV. The first time I ever beat Max, I thought: What am I supposed to do now? I kept playing after that, obviously [laughter] and I still beat him, so."

user on her mindset going into a tournament: "I mean, I try to stay positive. I've— I know how sports, especially those in the public eye, can damage your self-esteem. I dealt with it myself a couple times when I was still at the collegiate level. Hearing people be so rude about you and your skills, it hurts. So, sophomore year I think it was, I started logging out of all my social media accounts a couple days before a game or a tournament. The only criticism I needed was my coach's, and now I feel like I'm at a point in my career where I can judge my own skills."

user "For my final question, I asked her about her opinion of the current F1 season. '[laughter] Well, I'm supporting Mclaren obviously. I know Red Bull's been doing really well. I've heard— seen people's complaints on Twitter, it's something. But honestly, good job on Red Bull for making a rocket ship [laughter]."

view 702 replies

july 2023 ->

Mclaren • MclarenF1

A message from Lando and Oscar before summer break!

[Lando and Oscar are standing in front of a barren wall, both wearing their team polo's. "Hi everyone, Oscar —and Lando— here." Oscar glances at Lando who starts speaking. "It's been a decent start to the season, but we're gonna go rest and come back better than ever." He gives a tired smile to the camera, and then Oscar starts speaking. "I, personally, will be vacationing with my girlfriend. So, I'm excited. What about you, Lando?" Lando's smile has changed, he's clearly trying to stop himself from laughing. Oscar raises a brow. "Um— I've got a nice vacation planned, gonna visit family too." Oscar nods along. "We'll see you all in Zandvoort." Lando waves to the camera, and a second before the video ends he can be seen falling forward, laughing hysterically. Oscar has his head tipped back, laughing as well.]

user mclaren admin i think you uploaded the wrong cut...

Mclaren Nothing wrong here 😉 ↳ user OMG ↳ user they posted this...on purpose...hmm... ↳ user i swear this means oscar's gonna hard launch his gf i know itttt

august 2023 ->

yourusername and oscarpiastri how did no one assume this. where were you all at. Hi, everyone 👋💗 (edited 3hrs ago.)

logansargeant FINALLY i no longer have to cover for you guys omg

logansargeant congrats tho! ↳ oscarpiastri thanks mate! ↳ yourusername you were our strongest soldier. we will get you a reward dw ↳ oscarpiastri we did not agree abt that ↳ yourusername do i have to remind you about the mcdonalds situation from miami ↳ oscarpiastri logansargeant i'll send some money your way as a reward user alright. whats going on here guys ↳ user i'm getting the feeling they somehow traumatized logan in a mcdonalds

user I'VE BEEN HERE (liked by yourusername)

user i knew it. oscar had been in her likes for so long user i think i manifested this tbh

maxfewtrell i feel that i'm owed a thank you

yourusername thank you for driving in the formula renault eurocup in 2018, max. i would've found him anyway but i'll let you take credit ↳ maxfewtrell i knew something was wrong from your formality. but i'll take it. ↳ user it's giving "i'd find you in every universe" ↳ user user WHAT IF I DIED oscarpiastri thank you both for being obnoxiously loud talkers ↳ yourusername OSCAR 😢

user THE CAPTION CHANGE 😭😭

landonorris oh thank god. yourusername please stay in oscar's garage, and oscar's garage only from here on out.

yourusername that won't stop me. i will make you increasingly annoyed every single race i attend until you explode oscarpiastri should i remind you that this is a public comment section and you're also talking to my teammate? ↳ landonorris yourusername LISTEN TO YOUR BF ↳ yourusername check your text messages ↳ landonorris why are you like this ↳ oscarpiastri landonorris i think you deserved that mate user oscary/n casually traumatizing every member of the grid. love this

mclaren 🧡🧡 our favorite couple

yourusername admin you are my favorite mclaren employee ↳ oscarpiastri what about me? ↳ yourusername favorite person on earth. obviously. (liked by oscarpiastri)

user • user

so it seems that i am actually delusional. anyway #oscary/n

THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY

[slytherinshua]

◍　FALLING DREAMS　( 이석민 )

genre fluff , period comfort , established relationship , seokmin x fem!reader   cw cramps/nausea/headaches/other period stuff mentioned but no blood , not proofread   wc 804   request for @seokminfilm lyr my love this will cure ur cramps 100% (i hope)   note slytherinshua svt fic era WE ARE SO BACK (i'm not actually in an era only for my pookie lyr) ++ listen to falling dreams while reading   net @kstrucknet

You’d been cursed with painful cramps on your periods since you were a teenager. Coupled with nausea, headaches, and soreness, it was safe to say you loathed whenever that week of torture came around. Most people thought you were being dramatic about how much it hurt, even when sometimes it was too hard to even stand up because of the pain. 

The worst was whenever you had to bring up the topic to men. Calling in sick for work became more trouble than it was worth due to your prying boss who was stricter than reason. And God forbid you mentioned your time of the month as a reason for your absence. You’d been laughed at, threatened, and humiliated multiple times to the point that you avoided it at all costs. It was easier to suffer through the pain all day at the office than try to fight your way for a reasonable excused sick day.

But you were lucky that there was at least one reasonable man in your life. Your boyfriend Seokmin took your time of the month more seriously than you sometimes. He was always more than willing to get you anything you needed, and was extra affectionate and loving. Although he didn’t know how it felt to go through the painful cramps, he could imagine just how painful it must be. Seeing you grimace your way through every long day saddened him. He tried his utmost best to make it even a little easier for you.

Which was why now, after a long day at work and several breakdowns throughout the day due to the hormonal rollercoaster your body was riding, you were now lying in bed listening to the soft sound of Seokmin’s singing from the kitchen. He was making your favourite brownies as was tradition. 

It started years ago when you first started dating. You were a bit too shy to ask your boyfriend of only a week to help you with anything relating to the pain. Meanwhile, Seokmin was both confused and concerned on why you kept wincing every few minutes while trying to watch a movie. When he finally coaxed the answer out of you, he was unexpectedly sweet about it all. 

You laugh at the memory now. Of course Seokmin was the sweetest ever when he heard about the pain you were experiencing. It was perfectly in character for him. You soon learned that the attractive man who always made you laugh was also one with the kindest soul you had ever met. You knew from that day that you had chosen right. Seokmin was a dream. 

“Baby, I just put them in the oven, okay? Thirty minutes and they’ll be ready,” Seokmin called as he made his way back to your shared bedroom. A pretty smile graced his face as he caught sight of you wrapped up in the blankets. “How are you feeling now?” 

His soft question made your heart melt a little, and with a gentle hand reaching to brush back your hair, you felt overwhelmed all at once. What did you do to deserve a man as perfect as him?

“Still feels like someone’s stabbing my insides repeatedly, but you’re making it better,” you told him, raking your hand up to meet his, interlacing your fingers together. He frowned slightly at your response, hating to see you in such pain, even if it was a normal thing. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Seokmin’s voice was gentle, soothing to your ears. Whenever you were around him, all the pain you felt seemed to subside, even just a little. His touch was delicate as he pulled you up from the pillows for a hug, squeezing extra tightly when he heard the muffled whimper of pain escape your lips. He knew after years that this is all you needed. A warm hug, comforting words, and delicious fudgy brownies to distract from the pain.

Tender kisses were what came next, the first few pressed to your cheek before he travelled lower to your lips. You giggled with every exaggerated ‘mwah!’ that Seokmin added after every peck, attempting to lift your mood in any way. And it always worked wonders. 

It worked too well, in fact, judging by the whine of protest that left your lips as soon as he stopped kissing you. But he remedied it as quickly as he could, lips falling back onto yours, hands holding your waist gently, cautiously, as if you were in danger of breaking at any additional pressure. To Seokmin, you were the most precious part of his life. He made it quite known with his selflessness and caring towards you. And if you were to ever doubt it, all it took was one bite of brownie to be reminded again.

Seokmin was a dream. And he was all yours.

svt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @cham3li,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @blossominghunnie,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,, @parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @starshuas,, @raevyng,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @nicholasluvbot

[loveritas]

anypov જ cw: hints of pseudocest જ wc: 561

Caleb.

He had always been there, like your own personal shadow, a knight in shining armour you’d joke as kids. The one person who made sure you were never alone. From the moment you’d been taken in together, he’d taken you under his wing and kept you there...For protection? Perhaps, if not a little for possession...

When you were younger, he made sure no one picked on you at school. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, Caleb was there, standing just a little too close, his voice low and even as he scared them off with nothing more than a few well-placed words. You never even had to ask; he just knew when you needed him.

You never felt like you were an obligation with him, or that he was forcing himself to spend time with you. He encouraged you to take up the same hobbies, his favourite music, comics, video games, anything it was, he’d happily bond with you over it if you wanted to.

Similarly, he’d do the same for you. You’d mention something and it would stay in his brain, he’d learn all about your hobbies and fixations, just so you’d have someone to share it with. Your smile whenever he’d show interest was always worth it to him, the image framed permanently in his mind.

It was sweet, the way he was always there.

But then you got older and it didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse.

Every time you got close to someone, Caleb had something to say. A subtle comment, a warning laced with just enough truth to make you doubt. “I heard he’s a player.” - “He’ll just use you.” - “Heard some real bad things about that one.”. Sometimes he didn’t even need to say anything, just a glance, a tight-lipped expression, and suddenly, you were second-guessing everything.

And if that didn’t work? He found other ways.

He pulled you aside at a party, fingers closing a bit too firmly around your wrist as he leant down and whispered, “You're not really into him, are you?” His voice was gentle, nearly teasing, but there was something underneath. Something darker.

“You trust me, don't you?”

It was a stupid question, of course you did, you always had, probably would forever more.

You always looked up to him, he knew best and it allowed him to draw you back into the protection of his presence, allowed him to remind you—over and over—that no one would ever know you the way he did, take care of you the way he does.

As you stepped out into the evening chilly air Caleb's arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side. His warmth seeped into you, always so comforting and grounding, even now when there was a hidden undercurrent of something else

"Let's go home, parties’ not all that great-" he whispered, as he pressed a small gentle kiss to the top of your head.

It should have been nothing. A brotherly thing. A habit formed over the years.

But the way his lips lingered—just a second too long, inhaling your scent a little—had you mind racing, and a subtle warmth running along your skin.

You didn’t look up at him, too scared for what you might see in his eyes.

Or perhaps too scared it would be reflected in your eyes too.

© loveritas → do not copy or translate any of my works

[yassbishimvintage]

Hearts On Deck

A/N: Sooo this is kinda a prequel series so I hope y'all like it.

It was at one of the most exclusive parties she had ever attended that she first saw Aaron. It was a glamorous Hollywood event, brimming with A-listers, champagne, and flashing lights. Cleo was there to network, as usual, dressed in the latest designer gown, hair perfectly done, and a smile that could light up the room. But even in this sea of celebrities, her attention kept drifting to one man: Aaron.

He wasn’t a part of the flashy crowd. He was standing off to the side, a quiet presence, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there. Aaron was a rising actor, but not the type to seek the limelight. He was shy, reserved, and far more comfortable in a low-key setting than in the chaos of a red carpet.

Cleo, curious, made her way over to him. It wasn’t like her to approach someone so unobtrusive, but there was something magnetic about him—something she couldn’t quite place. As she drew closer, Aaron noticed her and instantly felt the weight of her gaze. His heart rate picked up, and his palms started to sweat. He wasn’t used to being noticed by someone like her.

“Hi,” Cleo said, flashing her signature smile. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Cleo.”

Aaron blinked, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected her to come over, let alone speak to him. “I’m Aaron,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him with curiosity. “You don’t seem like you belong here. You’re not really the ‘party’ type, are you?”

Aaron chuckled nervously, shrugging. “Not really, no. I’m just here for a friend...”

Cleo smiled, her interest piqued. “I get that. Sometimes these things can feel a little... overwhelming, right?”

Aaron nodded, feeling slightly more at ease. “Exactly. Everyone’s so... loud.”

“I get it,” she said with a wink. “I spend my life in the spotlight, but I prefer the quieter moments, too.”

Aaron was taken aback. Cleo, the queen of social media, the face of luxury brands, was telling him she didn’t always enjoy the limelight? It was a rare moment of honesty he didn’t expect from someone so polished.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly after that. They both shared their thoughts on the entertainment industry—Cleo about the pressures of her public persona, Aaron about the challenges of staying grounded in an industry that often wanted to mold you into something else. Cleo found herself drawn to Aaron’s quiet intelligence and humility, something rare in the world she was so familiar with.

As the night wore on, Cleo could feel the chemistry between them building, but she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Aaron was nothing like the men she usually dated—he wasn’t flashy, didn’t chase after her attention, and seemed content in his own space. Yet there was something intriguing about that. He wasn’t overwhelmed by her fame, and that was refreshing.

“Would you want to get coffee sometime?” she asked, taking a small risk. She’d never been shy about asking for what she wanted, but there was something different about Aaron. She didn’t want to come off as too forward.

Aaron hesitated, surprised by the offer. The idea of spending time with someone as high-profile as Cleo made him nervous. “Sure,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. “I’d like that.”

And that was how it started.

-

Their dates were quiet and private. Cleo appreciated the lack of cameras, the absence of the social media spotlight. They would meet at small, inconspicuous cafés or wander the streets of London, talking about everything and nothing at all. Aaron was shy, but in her presence, he found it easier to open up. Cleo, on the other hand, found solace in Aaron’s calm energy. He made her feel like she could just be herself, away from the public’s gaze.

Over time, Cleo learned that Aaron wasn’t the type to seek attention or validation. He wasn’t impressed by her celebrity connections or her social media presence. What he saw was a woman who worked hard, who was incredibly smart, and who was far more than her public persona. For the first time in a long while, Cleo found someone who was more interested in who she was off-camera than who she appeared to be on-screen.

It wasn’t always easy, though. Cleo had to balance her public life with their private one, and sometimes that meant making sacrifices. She found herself turning down high-profile events or skipping out on brand partnerships just to have a quiet evening with Aaron. And Aaron, who was already somewhat private, had to get used to the idea of being in the orbit of someone who was constantly under scrutiny.

But it worked. Slowly but surely, their bond deepened. They became each other’s anchor in a world that was often overwhelming. When Cleo felt the weight of the pressure around her, Aaron was her safe place. And when Aaron felt unsure about his place in the industry, Cleo reminded him of his worth, not as an actor, but as a person.

Before they knew it, their quiet moments together had become the most meaningful part of their lives. And despite the fact that the world often pulled them in different directions, they always found their way back to each other.

As the conversation continued, Cleo couldn't help but notice the subtle accent in Aaron's voice. It was soft but distinct, and it piqued her curiosity.

"Is that a British accent I hear?" she asked, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Aaron smiled, clearly amused by the question. "Yep. South London. West Croydon," he replied, the pride in his voice unmistakable.

Cleo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "West Croydon, huh? I’ve always wanted to visit London. Maybe you can show me around someday?"

Aaron chuckled, a hint of shyness returning to his demeanor. "I could do that. It’s a bit different from the glamorous side of London you might be used to, though."

"That's exactly why I want to see it," she said, her eyes lighting up. "I like the real, unfiltered version of places. Maybe you’ll be the perfect tour guide."

Aaron’s smile grew wider, and there was a warmth in his eyes that told Cleo that this was something special—something she hadn’t expected to find in a room full of distractions.

-

Cleo looked at Aaron for a moment, studying him as if trying to piece something together. “For someone whose profession is acting, you are very...” she paused, searching for the right word.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, waiting, a little intrigued by her observation. “Very what?”

She grinned slightly, trying to put her thoughts into words. “You’re very... reserved. Not exactly the type to seek attention.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of self-awareness in his laugh. “I suppose I’m more comfortable behind the scenes than in front of a camera. Acting’s one thing, but the attention that comes with it? Not so much.”

Cleo nodded, a small understanding smile crossing her face. “I get that. It’s refreshing, honestly. In my world, everyone’s always trying to be seen. But with you, it’s like you’re perfectly fine being in the background.”

“I guess I don’t mind blending in,” Aaron said, his gaze softening. “It’s the quiet moments I appreciate most. Like this one.”

-

Cleo couldn’t help but smile at Aaron, her eyes taking in the way he moved, the way he carried himself. As they strolled down the sidewalk together, she noticed something about him that she couldn’t quite shake. He stayed closest to the street, always positioned between her and any passing traffic, a quiet act of protection that spoke volumes. The way he did it so naturally, without even thinking, made her heart warm.

"You're a gentleman, aren’t you?" she said softly, her voice filled with a hint of admiration.

Aaron’s gaze shifted to her, a small but knowing smile on his lips. “I try to be.”

Cleo’s smile grew wider, and she couldn’t help but glance at his appearance. His style was understated yet impeccable—a simple chain around his neck, a turtleneck that fit just right, tapered pants, and a fresh fade that accentuated his sharp features. It was as though he had effortlessly combined casual and classy, without the need to try too hard.

But it wasn’t just his style that caught her attention. His eyes—those warm, hazel eyes—held her captivated. There was an intensity in them, a quiet depth that she could get lost in if she wasn’t careful. Every time their eyes met, it felt like the world around them blurred, leaving only the two of them in sharp focus.

She caught herself staring a little too long, and quickly looked away, feeling the warmth rush to her cheeks. “Your eyes,” she murmured, almost to herself. “They’re... mesmerizing.”

Aaron’s smile deepened, a mix of humility and something else that lingered in his expression. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” he said with a quiet chuckle, but there was something vulnerable in the way he spoke, something that made Cleo want to know more about the man behind the quiet demeanor.

Cleo’s curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind. "So, how long are you in LA for?" she asked, her voice casual but with a hint of interest.

Aaron glanced over at her, his expression thoughtful. "Just a few more days," he replied. "I’m here for work, but I don’t usually stay long. I prefer to keep things moving."

Cleo nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sounds like someone who likes to keep a low profile." She teased lightly but couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought of him leaving so soon.

Aaron chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I’m not exactly the ‘LA lifestyle’ type. I like to get in, do what I need to, and head back home."

“Where’s home for you?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“London,” he said with a quiet pride. “South London, West Croydon, to be specific.”

Cleo’s smile grew. “Well, I’ll take that as a good excuse to get to know you better before you leave,” she said, her voice playful.

Aaron’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, and he gave her a small, warm smile. "I wouldn’t mind that at all."

-

As they walked, the conversation flowed effortlessly, but soon enough, they reached the entrance of her apartment building. The bustling city sounds seemed to fade away as Cleo came to a stop in front of the sleek, modern building.

She turned to Aaron with a soft smile. "This is me," she said, her tone casual but with a touch of warmth.

Aaron paused, glancing up at the building. It was exactly the kind of place he imagined her living in—elegant, contemporary, with an understated luxury. He looked back at her, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than usual.

"This is nice," he said with a slight nod, genuinely impressed. "You’ve got good taste."

Cleo chuckled, slightly flattered. "Well, I try."

She hesitated for just a second, then added, "Do you want to come up for a bit? I could use the company."

Aaron wasn’t sure if it was the late hour or the way she asked, but the offer caught him off guard. There was something inviting in her tone, something easy about it, and for a split second, he debated. His natural shyness made him want to decline, to keep things simple, but there was a part of him—an honest part—that wanted to spend more time with her, to see where this connection could go.

"Sure," he said, his voice steady, though there was a trace of hesitation. "I’d like that."

-

Once inside, Aaron took a few steps into the spacious apartment, his eyes immediately drawn to the breathtaking view of the city. The twinkling lights of LA stretched out before him, a contrast to the quiet intimacy of the room. He stood there for a moment, taking it all in, the vastness of the skyline juxtaposed with the calm ambiance inside.

"Wow," he muttered under his breath, genuinely in awe. "This is... incredible."

Cleo smiled at his reaction, pleased but not surprised. "Yeah, the view is my favorite part," she said, walking toward the kitchen area with a graceful ease. "It's one of the reasons I got the place."

She glanced over her shoulder, her voice soft but welcoming. "Would you like coffee or tea?"

Aaron snapped out of his reverie, turning to face her. He hadn’t even thought about it—was too taken by the view—but now that she asked, he found himself considering the options. "Tea sounds nice," he said after a beat, his eyes catching hers with a look that felt both casual and intimate at once. "You have any British tea, or is that asking too much?"

Cleo chuckled, clearly amused. "I’ve got some Earl Grey, actually. I’ll make it just the way you like."

-

As Cleo made her way to the kitchen, Aaron remained by the window, his thoughts drifting for a moment before he turned to her. His curiosity got the better of him, and despite his usual reticence, he found himself asking a question he’d been wondering for a while.

“If you don’t mind me asking… why don’t you have a special someone?” He said, his tone casual but edged with genuine curiosity.

Cleo paused, her hand resting on the counter as she looked back at him. The question hung in the air for a moment, and she could tell it wasn’t coming from a place of prying, but from a quiet sincerity.

She gave a small shrug, her eyes softening. "I guess I’ve just never found someone who really... gets me. I mean, I’m constantly surrounded by people, but it’s different when you’re looking for something real, you know?" She smiled faintly, turning to prepare the tea. "I’ve been busy with work, and honestly, sometimes I wonder if I even have time for someone else."

Aaron nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful as he watched her move. "I get that. It’s hard to find someone who understands the whole... picture."

"Exactly," Cleo said, meeting his eyes for a moment. She paused, the faintest hint of vulnerability flashing across her face before she covered it with a smile. "But I’m not exactly in a rush either."

Aaron cleared his throat softly, the sound breaking the gentle silence that had settled between them. Cleo caught the subtle shift, and for a moment, her eyes lingered on his before she dropped her gaze, focusing on the task at hand.

She reached for the kettle, the steam rising gracefully as she poured hot water over the tea leaves. The soothing aroma of Earl Grey filled the room, mingling with the soft hum of the city outside the window.

Cleo carefully poured him a cup, her movements fluid and deliberate. She handed it to him, their fingers brushing for the briefest of moments. The contact was subtle but electric, sending a gentle shiver down her spine.

"Here you go," she said softly, her voice just above a whisper. "Hope it’s to your liking."

Aaron accepted the cup, his eyes not leaving hers. "Thank you," he murmured, the warmth from the tea seeping into his hands as his gaze remained locked with hers. There was a softness in his eyes, a quiet appreciation that made the moment feel deeper, more intimate.

As they settled into the living room, cups in hand, the air between them felt charged with possibilities. The city continued to sparkle outside, but within these walls, time seemed to slow, drawing them closer to an unspoken understanding.

-

Hours had passed, but neither of them had noticed. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from childhood memories to career highs and lows, to the little things that made them who they were. The tea had long since gone cold, their cups resting forgotten on the coffee table.

Cleo, curled into the corner of the couch, felt the weight of the night settle over her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she fought to keep them open, not wanting to end the moment just yet. She let out a small yawn, covering her mouth as she blinked up at Aaron.

"Getting tired?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

She nodded, giving him a lazy smile. "Yeah… I guess I am."

Aaron exhaled quietly, glancing toward the door. He knew this was the part where he should probably get up, thank her for the tea, and head out. But something kept him still. The thought of leaving, of stepping back into the quiet solitude of his hotel room, felt… unappealing.

Cleo must have noticed his hesitation because she tilted her head slightly, watching him with half-lidded eyes. "You don’t have to go just yet," she murmured, her voice laced with drowsiness.

Aaron studied her for a beat, then nodded, settling back against the couch. "Alright," he said, voice low, almost a whisper. "I’ll stay a little longer."

A small, satisfied hum left her lips as she let her eyes close, trusting his presence in her space. Aaron sat there, watching the city lights flicker outside the window, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing. He hadn’t expected the night to unfold this way, but somehow, he didn’t mind it at all.

-

Sleep crept over Cleo before she could fight it, pulling her into a hazy, comfortable warmth. At some point, without realizing it, she shifted closer, drawn to the steady presence beside her.

Aaron sat still, his arm draped loosely along the back of the couch, not wanting to disturb her. He felt the weight of her as she unconsciously nestled into him, her head resting against his chest, her breath soft and even.

For a moment, he stiffened—not because he minded, but because it had been a long time since someone had leaned on him like this. Literally. Figuratively.

He glanced down at her, taking in the way her lashes fluttered slightly, the relaxed part of her lips, the way she fit against him like she was meant to be there. A gentle, involuntary smile tugged at his lips.

He could have woken her, could have excused himself and left. But instead, he let himself sink into the moment, resting his head back against the couch, feeling the quiet rhythm of her breathing against him.

The city outside buzzed with life, but inside this space, everything was still. And for the first time in a while, he didn't feel the urge to move.

Tags 🏷️

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[wearysparrows]

My Only Sunshine

ao3/masterlist

Summary: You find yourself in Caleb’s apartment. Caleb dreams of the past. He almost touches you like you want him to. You hurt each other, instead.

cw(18+): female reader, reader is mc, minor depictions of violence, vaginal fingering (kinda), choking, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort, angst, pseudo-incest, caleb is referred to as your brother, use of pet names from caleb, not beta-read, includes your POV and caleb's 4.1K

Caleb dreamt.

He dreaded sleeping. The world of dreams was not one that was kind to him. In that world, you never forgave him. Instead, you died.

Again, and again, and again–

Hi, my name is Caleb. I’m your brother. And I’ll always be by your side.

Sterile white walls. Blue medical gown, tied in the back. Nakedness underneath. Bare feet on a cold floor. He folds you a paper plane, and your big, wet eyes watch with unrestrained curiosity, like it’s the first time. His evol makes it orbit around you, buoyed by the rainbow fractals of his energy. Sparks of red intertwined with the blue. A hint at the truth of his nature revealed in its manifestation. You clap your hands, praise him in your sweet voice.

So cool! How can you do that? Teach me!

He’s shown you this trick more times than he can remember. Too many to count. But you don’t remember, because you die. They kill you, again and again and again. Caleb shows you, again and again and again. You clap, smile. Your little hand in his bigger one. Caleb’s world zeroes in on you. All of him is in your orbit. You pull him in. Stretch his body apart, put it back together.

Hi, my name is Caleb. I’m your brother. And I’ll always be by your side.

Often, they take you from him. Men and women in white coats. Cold eyes. Cold hands. They take you apart and put you back together, like a doll. He begs, pleads. 

Take me instead. Give her a break. Just one day. Please. 

Caleb crushes a clock flat with his evol. It rang incessantly for hours. He would have to complete the task if he wanted to silence it. It’s hard to control, to center his gravity. There’s so much, everywhere. It affects everything. It was like grasping at one drop of water falling out of the sky among millions of identical drops. It’s not like you. You were so easy to pinpoint, to pin down. Sometimes, he thinks he can’t find his center. But he has to, or it will be you. He learns quickly. By seven, he’s nearly mastered control of his evol.

Caleb crushes other things, too. One day, for the first time, it's a man. 

Kill him, or it's her today.

At eight years old, Caleb kills for the first time. There’s a sickening sort of squelch as what was once a body is reduced to a flat mass of gore. Caleb watches, thinks about his reward. He was promised lunch with you today if he was successful.

You seem to be able to tell when something is bothering him, even when you don’t remember him again. He watches as your hands that have gone limp with death so many times offer him the apple from your lunch. Your face is sallow and sunken. Malnourished. Still so pretty, like a perfect little doll. His princess, locked away in this accursed tower. They feed you even less often than him. You receive fruit less than once every two weeks, and you want to give it to him. 

You’re frowning. Eating this will make you feel better. 

Caleb splits the apple cleanly in half with his evol. It snaps into identical parts in your hands, and your eyes go wide. He shares half of his lunch with you from that point on, when they let him see you. He’s hungrier than ever. Angrier than ever. He has enough for the both of you. Two of everything.

 Some time later, Josephine spirits two children away from a hidden facility, disappearing them without a trace. In the cramped trunk of a white van with tinted windows, Caleb flies a paper plane for you. Your magnetism guides his internal compass. Caleb watches as papers are forged, identities placed. Josephine formally declares the two of you as siblings – and Caleb gains a little sister. This time, you remember him permanently. 

He watches you grow before his eyes, changing from a gangly, wide-eyed child to a capable woman. Your form changed, bones that had once poked his sides as you lay next to him became the soft, round shapes of an adult. Shapes that he’s sure would fit into his palms perfectly. His desire to protect you changes into something else entirely. He wants to fill you. All your spaces. Your mind. Your heart. Between your legs. He aches between his own.

Caleb knows you’re not his sister. Not by blood.

But one day, you see through him. You look past his carefully crafted facade, sunshine smile, the radiant warmth of summertime, the open freedom of a cloudless sky, a ghost over your skin under his touch. You see him for what he really is. Someone who waits, day after day after day. Someone suffocated by the enormity of his own desire. Someone who wants to consume you like ripe, fresh fruit.

I hate you. I wish you were dead. You killed my Caleb.

Caleb would have offered you the knife, had you asked. You could use the one you got him as a gift for his fifteenth birthday. He had sharpened it so much that it had worn thin, nearly chipped. The clip on the back had snapped off at some point. He had hooked it into his pocket one too many times. You could carve him up, take out his insides. Find all the pieces of yourself that made him up. See the you that was inside of him. Expose his weakness, peel back his skin. But your back was already turned. You wouldn’t even give him pain. There was nothing. You left. Again, and again, and again–

You wake, and you’re in Caleb’s apartment in Skyhaven.

Again. 

In fact, you had brought yourself here without Caleb’s permission. Not that you needed it – they key he had given you, true to his word, unlocked his door with a quiet hiss, welcoming you home. You had known he was still working, and stole into his space without confronting him about it. It had been after work on a whim, a long day of hunting beasts leaving you drained and wanting to see your brother – your Caleb. His denial of you rang in your ears.

I’m not your brother. I’m tired of playing house.

  Well, you were in his house, despite his words. You couldn’t quite get up the guts to just call him and ask (your pride prevented you from trying to wallow in the comfort you knew he would offer, petting you like a small animal that quakes), but your feet brought you here of their own accord, the last shuttle into Skyhaven arriving late into the night. It was still early enough that the birds had yet to sing, and only the faintest hints of sunlight were filtering in through the curtain of Caleb’s bedroom.

Caleb’s bedroom.

Caleb’s bedroom.

You were in Caleb’s bedroom. And there was a big, warm presence next to you on the sheets, taking soft, labored breaths. You were very, very still. You took stock of your actions from the night before as the waking fog of your mind began to disperse. Left home. Took the shuttle to Skyhaven. Took a cab to Caleb’s place. Let yourself in. Got hit by a wave of exhaustion. Went into Caleb’s room to steal a shirt to sleep in.

Fell asleep in his bed.

Fell asleep in his bed.

Fuck.

Next to you, Caleb twitched in his sleep, his augmented hand curling in sheets with a mechanical click-click-click. He was shirtless, like he always was when he slept. When you were kids, Caleb had suddenly stopped wearing shirts to bed. You had teased him about it, even knowing the reason. He ran too hot, like there was a bubbling furnace inside of him waiting to spill out the moment he let down his guard. More often than not, that heat was in his eyes when he looked at you, too.

You don’t complain when you’re usin’ me as your personal space heater.

In bed, you would put your cold feet and hands on his big, warm body, and feel him stiffen, then relax. He would let you, rubbing the tops of your cold feet with his big palm, trying to improve the circulation. 

You’re like a little lizard. An anemic one.

You turned on your side to get a better look at him, careful not to jostle the bed too much, fearing to wake him. He got so little rest as it was. The Colonel of the Farspace Fleet needed to be well rested in order to fly – but Caleb seemed to have no such luxuries in life. When he slept, it was fitful. There was a furrow in his dark brow, a seemingly permanent crease that spoke to the nature of his dreams. His head turned back and forth on the pillow, making his hair fall over his forehead. You watched as his face twitched through a series of emotions, all of them awash in struggle. He vocalized, a high whine in his throat.

“Don’t go,” he murmured. He sounded desperate. Afraid. 

You inched closer to him, and ever so carefully brushed the hair that was stuck to his forehead with the sweat of his nightmares away. Watching him suffer in his sleep made your heart clench around the space he had left behind in his absence. Your hand cupped his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw, so different from the smooth skin of his boyhood. The skin of your brother, worn by a man you struggled to recognize.

“Caleb,” you called.

He inhaled through his nose, but didn’t wake at your prodding. You tried again, brushing your hand through his damp, dark hair.

“Caleb.”

You only had a moment to catch his eyes fluttering open before you felt him turn on his side, arms reaching for you, dragging you against his bare chest. Your face was almost flush with his neck. You could see his pulse thrumming there, quick like the heart of a bird. His grip was so tight that it hurt, aching around your rib cage and between your shoulder blades. His unintentional show of strength warmed your face, awakened your need for him. You couldn’t have escaped him, even had you wanted to. His good hand fisted in your hair, and pulled, exposing your neck to him. He buried his face there, inhaling deeply against your skin. His other hand worked its way down the curve of your hip to grip your ass. He squeezed. The tips of his artificial fingers slipped under the thin cotton of your underwear. They were spreading you apart with singular intention. They touched the slick heat in between your legs. One finger nearly pushed inside. Your blood prickled over the scope of your body. He was dreaming of someone else, you thought. Even when you had wanted him most, your brother hadn’t filled you up like this. You shoved against his shoulder with the flat of your palm.

“Caleb. Wake up.”

Caleb’s movements paused, and he slowly lifted his head from its place where it had been buried in your neck. The movement reminded you of a big, sleepy dog. You saw his pupils contract swiftly to points, revealing the wet amethysts of his irises to you all at once. He seemed to come back to himself, and he retracted his hands from both your hair and between your legs. A flush crept up his chest, all the way up to his cheeks and ears. He propped himself up on an elbow, clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” he said, plainly. 

Your heart slowed to a limping crawl in your chest. He wasn’t looking at you. His right arm was hidden from your view, as he braced himself with it to sit up, as if he didn't want you to see it. Then, the Caleb you knew was back on, in some sense. He turned to you, smiled. His lips looked warm, inviting. Everything smelled like him. You ached in between your legs, empty all over again. If you were a more terrible person, you would have let him keep having that wonderful dream of someone else. His voice came, pleasantly rough with his sleep. He sat up, and the finger that had nearly been inside you passed over his lips.

“Good mornin.’ What would you like for breakfast, my only sunshine? Your wish is my command, since you already fulfilled mine by coming here.”

Caleb had bade you stay in bed while he made breakfast, but the distance (with you still in his bed and him in the kitchen), felt like too much. He had hardly addressed how you had let yourself into his house, completely unannounced, and commandeered his bed. In fact, he acted as if waking up to you was the most normal thing in the world. At one point, maybe it had been. Now, you wished he would address it, instead of leaving it hanging in the air between you. The air was heavy enough already.

You wormed your way out of the sheets and padded into the kitchen. The smell of good cooking came to you, before the image of Caleb – now wearing a worn out DAA t-shirt to go along with his sweats, came into view. He was cutting something with a singular purpose, the knife in his right hand. It was such a normal, painfully familiar scene that you wondered if you had woken up at all, and weren’t just dreaming of your brother at home. The Caleb who got up before you to make the breakfast you wanted, every morning. Your school lunch, too. The only thing kept you in this reality was the state of Caleb’s apartment. It was still dark and grey, virtually empty of any signs of life, save for a photo of you on Caleb’s back, and a singular model plane. As you approached, he looked up, quirking a dark brow in your direction. The knife didn’t slow its work. A green onion was reduced to near atoms under his decisive cuts. 

“I thought I told you to stay in bed.”

His commanding tone told you that right now, he was your brother, Caleb. He couldn’t help it. Even if he said otherwise, it slipped through his cracks. Still, the Colonel, Caleb, and your brother got harder to discern from each with each passing day. You crossed your arms over your chest. The movement of your clothes reminded you that you were in nothing but his big shirt and your underwear. You huffed, easily falling into your normal banter with him.

“You did. I didn’t listen.”

Caleb chuckled, shaking his head. There was a big hole in the collar of his t-shirt. The Caleb you knew had always sewn holes back up. On your clothes, anyway.

“Are you against breakfast in bed, now? If you don’t eat, you’ll will start witherin’ away before my very eyes.”

Even when he was trying to squeeze back in your good graces, your first instinct was to push back against him. Especially now. 

“Do you think I’ll always just do what you say?”

Caleb looked up to answer your question, but you didn’t want to hear whatever he was going to come up with. A childish urge to touch him overtook you, and you didn’t want to resist it. You closed the distance, your feet cold on the tiles of the floor. You reached out, and brushed your fingers over the metal of his forearm. Caleb stiffened under your touch, but his smile stayed firmly in place. He set the knife down, some distance away across the counter, as if just being near it had the possibility of  harming you. 

“Why not touch my good arm? Can’t feel what you’re doing over there, baby. And I’d sure like to feel it.”

His tone was airy, but you could pick up on the carefully concealed strain in his voice. You knew him too well not to hear it. You hated that. His good arm. As if his mechanical arm had some sort of inherent violence in its nature. As if he was punishing himself and you for your withdrawal from him, the hole of your absence, the pain of his own.

“This arm isn’t bad. I hate it when you say that. It’s a part of you. You’re not bad, Caleb.”

Caleb turned towards you, the cutting board now forgotten. He had set his face into the mask of a pleasant smile, but it faltered. A small frown slowly replaced it.

“What if I just haven’t shown you how bad it really is?”

He flexed the appendage in question, as if it could reveal something about the truth of its nature to you by doing so. You watched, the wires fueling it with false life visible in the junctions of his fingers. 

“And what if I haven’t shown you?   I won’t touch your other arm. Because I want you to suffer. Is all of me bad, too?”

You pressed your fingers into the skin of his chest and shoulder, where metal met flesh. His skin shuddered under the touch, a quiet sound escaping his mouth. Pain or pleasure – you weren’t sure. Your fingers ghosted down, over the metal of his bicep, the plates of his forearm, into his open palm. You stroked it with your fingertips. When you were kids, you tried to tickle each other’s palms. Caleb always won, because he wasn’t ticklish there at all. He still let you try, though. It always ended with you doubled over in a fit of laughter, and Caleb with a triumphant smile. The cold steel beneath your fingers was so different from the warm embrace of the boy from your memories. But the boy wasn’t who you wanted. The man before you was.

“I’m the only one who you want to punish like this,” he spoke through a shuddering breath, lilac eyes on you hot like coals.

“Right?”

Caleb watched, helpless, as you touched that part of him. There was something disgusting about it, an inhuman piece, not soft and yielding (and he wanted to yield!) but cold and hard. Artificial. He didn’t want to expose you to his shame, his weakness, the part that was no longer him, the body that could no longer give. A piece built up from the remaining scraps of his innards. He could no longer map your fingerprints, nor feel your delicate bones. The last remaining connection was the gift of pain. Pain. Everything else bleeds away, and the person that is Caleb is no longer there anymore. There’s just you. Caleb is an extension of you, plugged into your mind, an image of what you can give him. This was the fate of this cold flesh, that of a reptile, the snake that slithers on its belly, lashed by vines, a cursed creature cast out from the garden. 

He had expected repulsion from you, the same he felt for himself (he always assumed two of everything, two of the same, one for himself and one for his little sister,) – but you were guiding his hand to your abdomen, spreading his unfeeling fingers across your soft stomach, eclipsing the space there. Bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t feel you. His good hand twitched and flexed involuntarily by his side. He saw everything, but felt nothing. Your hand was squeezing against his, pressing a hard indent into the place where he touched but didn’t feel, as if you could mark yourself with him there. Your blunt nails dragged across the top of his hand. Caleb felt the pain. Just barely. But he felt it. He could feel his pulse in his dick. The simple pain was enough. Your voice made his gaze snap to your face from where it had been watching his hand on your stomach.

“Caleb,”

You were guiding his hand down, down. A soft demand fell from your lips, ordering him around, just like you used to. He was nearly touching you between your legs.

“Touch me with this hand.”

You thought you saw some thin line of resolve snap in Caleb’s face at your words. His big hands lifted you to sit on the counter. They went up your thighs, his eyes on yours. You swatted the one made of flesh away, and Caleb dropped it obediently. But rather than continuing where you wanted him, Caleb lifted the hand he was allowed to use from your leg, and slid it up your sternum, fingers wide, until it came to rest with a gentle pressure around your neck. He squeezed. Your breathing wasn’t constricted, but a primal fear trickled down from the back of your neck, all the way to your heels. Arousal, too. You were strong, but he was stronger. Strong enough to take your life. Caleb spoke, voice an almost imperceptible, strained whisper.

“What if this is how I want to touch you,”

His fingertips stroked the place where your aorta ran, delicately, reverently. 

“What if this is who I really am?”

You brought your own hand up to cover his, pressing it harder around your neck. Swallowing around his grip was difficult and loud.

“Then show me who you really are, Caleb.”

You watched as his eyes became dark. An anger you had only recently begun to divulge from him bled there. A part of him he only showed you now. Your eyes drifted to the obvious strain in his pants.

“You really light my fire, you know that?”

His grip increased as he spoke. Your blood flow was constricted, but there was hardly any pain. Your eyelids began to feel swollen. Your ears rang, your head starting to feel heavier with the weight of your own blood, cheeks hot. You clenched around nothing. Caleb leaned in close to speak, his voice hard. 

“Who taught you this kind of thing? Who else has touched my girl like this?”

Your voice struggled to come up from around his grip. You hardly recognized it as your own.

“You died, Caleb. Did you really think no one else would ever touch me? I couldn’t even touch your corpse. You left me nothing. Then, you came back as someone I don’t recognize. Do you think you have the right to ask me that question?”

Caleb’s hand dropped from your throat. Blood rushed back from your head into the rest of you, and you saw black spots flit behind your eyes. Your body swayed against your will, and you steadied yourself against the cold marble of the countertop. Caleb was directing your free hand up around his neck until it was clasped there, weakly. You felt the strong shift of his tendons, the bob of his Adam's apple.  His skin was hot. Even hotter than you ever remembered. 

“Would you prefer I stay dead? Should I have died as your brother, instead of coming back as someone else?” 

His grip over your hand forcibly increased that of your own around his neck. He still only touched you with his right hand, just as you had commanded. You watched as your hand practically disappeared behind his own. The metal dug into the delicate skin there, against your bones. It ached in a way that you knew was only a fraction of the suffering Caleb must have felt. You squeezed against him, just as he seemed to be requesting, testing his waters. Caleb’s dark eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a soft, strangled gasp of air. His eyes, ever intense on you, never left yours. You saw in his gaze the sweet fruits of his labor that had only ripened into loneliness. 

“Death is just a cop out. You have to stay alive, next to me. That’s your punishment.”

Caleb dropped his hand at your words, and yours came with it. He gathered you up in his arms, lifting you from the counter where you had been sitting. The soft cotton of his scent enveloped you. He held you against his chest in a crushing embrace, your feet dangling. Your toes just barely brushed the kitchen tiles. It was the same way he had held you as a child when you had refused to hug him back, upset with him over one thing or another. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Okay. If that’s what you want, I’ll live to see another day.”

His voice tickled your ear, the boyish sound of it sliding down your spine, all the way into the tops of your feet, where it settled like a beloved pet. He set you down gently, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear with his right hand.

“My little punishment still needs to eat breakfast, though. Sit.”

[ghostlyferrettarot]

❤️₊˚⊹ ᰔ The Moon in Synastry charts❤️₊˚⊹ ᰔ

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

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❤️ What does the Moon mean in Synastry?❤️ The Moon refers to our deepest feelings and how these align with another person's. If in a romantic relationship or friendship, one person's Moon is in a harmonious aspect to the other person's Moon, this usually means there is a natural emotional connection.

❤️ The Moon in Harmonious Aspects (Trine and Sextile)❤️: When Moons are in harmonious aspects, such as a trine or sextile, the emotional connection between the two people is fluid and natural. The way each handles their emotions complements the way the other does. They understand each other without words. It's as if both people share a secret emotional language. For example, Moon in Cancer Trine Moon in Scorpio. In this case, both people share a deep emotional intensity, although they may express it differently. The person with the Moon in Cancer can be more open and expressive in their feelings, seeking to create a safe and protective environment. The person with the Moon in Scorpio, on the other hand, is more reserved but very deep in their emotions. However, both perfectly understand each other's need to be emotionally intimate and trustworthy. Together, they create a mutual emotional refuge, even if their ways of expressing their emotions are different. They feel as if they can share the deepest part of themselves without fear of judgment.

❤️ The Moon in Tense Aspects (Squares and Oppositions)❤️: Now, when the Moons are in tense aspects, such as a square or opposition, things can be a little more complicated. Although the emotional attraction is strong, differences in the way emotions are handled can cause discomfort. One person might feel that the other does not understand their emotional needs or that their emotional responses are too intense or, on the contrary, too cold. For example: When the Moon in Aries is in square to the Moon in Capricorn, emotions can clash. The person with the Moon in Aries has a need for emotional independence and to act quickly on feelings, while the person with the Moon in Capricorn tends to be more reserved, controlled. The Aries may feel that the Capricorn is too cold or distant, while the Capricorn may feel that the Aries is impulsive or emotionally immature. This tension can create misunderstandings, but it also offers them an opportunity for growth. Aries could learn to be more patient and Capricorn to be more emotionally open.

❤️The Moon and intimacy ❤️:

The Moon also has an impact on how we present ourselves as vulnerable. In a relationship, an individual's Moon can show us how that individual is emotionally aroused in the private sphere. If two individuals' Moons are in sync, there is a high possibility they will feel closer and comfortable with one another. Example: If one person has the Moon in Scorpio and the other has the Moon in Taurus, the emotional and physical connection in intimacy can be especially deep. The Moon in Scorpio seeks an intense, emotionally transformative connection, while the Moon in Taurus seeks stability and security in the relationship. When these energies combine, intimacy can be incredibly deep, but there is also a necessary balance. The person with the Moon in Taurus may need more emotional stability, while the person with the Moon in Scorpio might feel the need to explore beyond the superficial. If both manage to find that middle ground, the intimacy will be very powerful.

❤️The Moon as an Emotional Refuge❤️ When you are in a relationship with someone whose lunar aspect in your chart is harmonious, that person has the power to be your emotional refuge in many ways. Simply being around them makes you feel protected and validated. Emotional interactions flow comfortably and naturally. And on the other hand, if a person's Moon is in a tense configuration with yours, the relationship may require more attention to find emotional balance. An example is people with the Moon in Pisces and the Moon in Cancer. Both feel deeply and have a great need for emotional support. The Moon in Pisces can be dreamy, sensitive and artistic, while the Moon in Cancer seeks emotional security and protection. In this relationship, both can share a very deep emotional relationship, where one feels what the other needs even without having to speak. The emotional connection is strong, almost like a refuge for both.

[tinyproprodigy]

"Tumbling into You" - Nanami Kento x playful reader (nb)

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum—even when it comes to something as simple as a hug. You remember that early day all too well: Kento had asked for a proper embrace, and you, with that trademark mischievous glint in your eye, sidled in for a half-hug instead. Leaning against him just enough to spark a smirk, you teased, “What? Something wrong?” Though his features momentarily clouded with puzzlement, you could see the warmth behind his eyes as he learned to appreciate your defiant playfulness.

Years have passed since those first awkward, yet endearing, encounters. Now, you and Kento share a quiet life defined by a dance of teasing banter and tender moments—a love built on your polar opposites finding common ground. On this particular afternoon, the light streams softly through your living room, casting gentle shadows that mirror the playful mood between you two. Kento, ever the composed one, looks at you with a mixture of fond exasperation and affection as he asks for a kiss in that low, earnest tone you know so well.

Of course, your first instinct is to stick to your rebellious streak. With a quick, almost imperceptible smirk, you tilt in for a fleeting peck, then—true to form—bolt away before he can properly savor the moment. But today, things don’t go exactly as planned.

In your haste to escape your usual routine, you find yourself perched precariously on his lap. When you make your move, you try to dodge the comforting weight of his arms as they instinctively reach out to hold you close. Instead of your practiced, graceful retreat, you overestimate your dash. Your legs scramble for balance as you simultaneously attempt to slip off his lap and sidestep his enclosing embrace. The result? A comical collision of momentum and gravity sends you stumbling backwards until you land with a soft, ungraceful plop on your butt. A whine of frustrated surprise escapes your lips as you sit there, a mix of indignation and sheepish amusement washing over you.

For a brief, suspended moment, Kento simply stares at you in disbelief. His eyes, usually so reserved and stoic, soften as they crinkle at the corners. Pressing his lips together in a vain effort to hide the smile threatening to break free, he shakes his head slowly, a silent declaration that despite your antics, he finds your every quirk utterly irresistible.

With tender care, he steps forward and helps you back onto your feet, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, familiar embrace. In that moment, the playful chaos of your defiance melts away into something far more sincere—a quiet, unspoken truth that says, despite all the teasing and the playful disobedience, you are exactly who he loves.

And as always, with that gentle, knowing look in his eyes, Kento seals his affection not with words, but with a soft, lingering kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes—a promise of understanding, of acceptance, and of a love that finds its strength in every playful misstep along the way.

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

Thought of this after coming across this fic and had to write this asap!!! I'd be lying if I didn't admit that this is, in fact, how I act. I can't help it mahn (●´ε｀●)

Me and Kento darling rn:

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

© property of @tinyproprodigy . please don't claim, copynpaste or translate my work on this and / or any other platforms. Like, repost or request please!! Love u!! ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

[guarddogbutch]

hi! it seems like you and your partner are practicing a lot of hard kink pretty sustainably/well, i was curious if you have tips/know where to go for tips on how to start/keep that up?

thank you so much for asking! i hope our answers are helpful :) always do research and talk to your community members; i'm not perfect and kink is not monolithic! feel free to reach out if you want more info/resources/clarification.

my advice:

- honestly communicate your wants and needs. accept that these things may change and evolve. we have a shared spreadsheet with about 350 kinks/actions and our comfortability with them, this sheet is updated as things change. understand that even with communication your partner may do something you don't like (not violating a hard boundary) accidentally or through experimentation; be ready to manage this together.

- figure out your expectations for scenes and your dynamic. expectations can be very concrete and detailed like wanting a list of specific actions to happen or they can be more abstract like wanting to feel a certain way. communicate and manage these expectations with your partner.

- educate yourself on kink and safety outside of your partner. read, talk to your community, take classes, listen to podcasts, go to events. the information you get about kink should be from a wide variety of sources, do not solely rely on your partner to educate you.

- similarly, learning about first aid/emergency management is always necessary when engaging in kink. this should be general and then more specific to the types of kink you're interested in. i enjoyed the free first aid classes for sex workers that 7 days of domination offers. there are also lots of free/cheap first aid classes or resources about anatomy and emergency preparedness online. have a specific plan for what will happen and what you or your partner is responsible for during different types of emergencies.

- if you're interested in RACK, start to figure out your risk profile. talk to your partner about this. recognize if there are things that you think are hot but that are outside of your risk profile. you can be disappointed by this, but take care of yourself and do not compromise your safety in ways you can't afford to.

- explore things! trying things out is important in learning what you like. figure out a plan for how to cope and communicate when you don't like something.

- accept that you and your partner are humans and your desire for kink and/or sex will not always be consistent or perfectly compatible. it's okay if sometimes you want to engage in kink every day and sometimes you want to engage in kink once a week. talk to your partner about what you need and want. ask them about what they need and want too.

- let yourself feel silly/stupid/cringy. kink is a lot of playing pretend and improv at its core. it's okay if you are embarrassed sometimes, but don't let that hold you back from doing the things that you enjoy or want to try. it's okay to laugh at yourself.

- be selective with who you play with. make sure the people you practice kink with are trustworthy, conscious of safety, and communicative. feel safe and comfortable with them.

my pet's advice:

hiiiii!!!! thank u for the sweet question!! <333

- push yourself to be honest (with yourself and your partner) about what you need! sometimes it's like, really really scary to realize how helpful it is to have someone taking care of you. when you need that, you need it. trust that your partner will let you know if they can't/ don't want to do something

- trust your gut!!! if something feels wrong or weird, trust yourself. talk about it with your partner/ journal about it so you can figure out why you're feeling off, but trust that your body is usually right

- talk about the scene after every scene!!! even if it was tame/ if you aren't doing anything new. oh my god this has been so good. it's so helpful to go over things you liked/disliked/etc. about the scene, but also about any thoughts you had during the scene that you might forget later! this gives you guys an established space to talk about the general direction of your kink practice! i've also found that it really helps prevent drop because you can discuss out any of the thoughts/feelings that might spiral into guilt if they're allowed to fester.

- take care of each other outside of scenes/your kink practice

byeeeee!! :))

[thatbitchery]

little acts of feminism you do daily?

acts of feminism lmao.

I'm a misandrist before I'm a feminist actually. Largely I just hate men I don't exactly love women but

When a gay man uses bitch or slut or whore etc I just use fag. Two can play this game. We can both use terms of degradation here buddy. Yours based on my sex mine based on your sex too. FAGGGGGGGGGOT. You don't get a pass you're a man that loves men you're worse than straight men to me.

I address women, married women, with their title and maiden name (and if I don't know them I'll use ma'am ). Dr Laney wtf is Mrs MacAdams who is he I'm talking to you I'll use YOUR name

Its not exactly an act but it's physically impossible for me to consume pop music. I tried watching the Grammys (CONGRATS TO MOM MISS BEY MWAH FOR THE CULTUREE) and almost threw up Sabrina Carpenter why. Men just dancing minimal in comfortable clothes full covered and one later of camera ready make up as women do entire routines 3/4 naked and in heels plus enough make up to season an Indian festival I'll throw up. I'll actually throw up. Get out. Why is Charlie XCX pouring wine on her boobs in that MV it does not even match the story? Why are women in pop like this? What are you doing ? Anyway shout out my girls Sia , Alessia Cara and Billie Eilish mwah

I don't interact with men unless I have to and when I do I make sure they know I didn't want to be there I just mhm and nod all night contribute nothing and stupidly drink. Because why do you even exist bud. In spaces where I can't avoid them I just limit interactions and when they happen I make sure they know I did not consent to it. Like at work when I have to share spaces with them I just say nothing and use one word responses and it's obviously not shyness it's just my guy get the fuck out. Which makes them want to serve me so win win .or destroy me, which is okay. Two can always play that game and one of us is naturally irrational and emotional ask walls .

I always give women the benefit of the doubt 10000× and do not hold women to holiness. Amber Heard my love I hope you actually did great his ass,for my female ancestors that use to get beat mwah. Blake Lively babygirl I hope you actually did coerce him like MILLIONS of women have to go through everyday. The world will only defend women if they're saints not me I defend women because the sun exists idk. Yes 100% have an abortion because it's a son for the girls that are murdered and neglected for being daughters. Mwah. Queen do you need funds? I'll hook you uppppp.

When a man accuses me of doing something that I didn't do I go and do it. You can't accuse me for free brah. This guy accused me of stealing from him so I went and stole? After I was proven innocent obviously so now he can't accuse me again without being racist. When women accuse me of something I let it go. When men do I just go actually do it. If I don't wanna I accuse them of worse and you will nottttt get out of it unscathed babes I'm African. Think thrice.

I always believe the woman. Even when I know for a fact she's lying. You know what queen matter of fact I was there I saw it with my eyes. More than women's rights I support women's wrongs. By default women right men wrong. Men have to go through hoops to even get me to consider them. If a woman says it it's true. By default. Go play video games or serve in the army .

I don't believe in God or religion because ew.

If a man wants me to believe something he has to prove it to me or hes lying. I learned this when I realized women have to prove things to men bc men are just considered right by default and women will pull out Harvard level data and men will be like lol lies. So I take one for the team I made my boss pull out data that the company is doing WELL in a meeting. Like are you sure?. Idk I feel it's wrong so maybe its wrong. If IDs right prove it.

I have no soft spot for men (or women) go hunt. Please. Go bring me a boar sir. I don't speak to men that are beneath me in any category men are better than women you are alphas leaders kings gods RAAAAAAH so as a man why am I smarter than you. And yes grades matter shut up. What was your GPA. SHUT UP. What's your net worth? Get out. As a superior being why are you ugly. Am I ugly? And I'm a lesser being!! A woman? Ew. Get out. As a man youre supposed to be better than me it's nature. And I'm really really really good, so good luck. I'm hypergamous like that. And mot just one front, buddy. Alll of them. You are a MAN. a natural born LEADER. and ALPHA. rrrraaaaaah or whatever.

I just don't take men seriously. Like okay buddy whatever you say.

If you ever put me in leadership of anything just know the men will wilt the girls will thrive and if a man does thrive then he is, in fact, an alpha male.

Like I said, it's not as much feminism as it is misandry. I don't exactly like women or put effort into empowering us I just really hate men.

[gogandmagog]

Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery

full disclosure that I am about to be 0% better than Charlie Sloane^

Anne of the Island, Chapter Two!

I love this chapterrrr. A.V.I.S. is a big shining crown that sits atop the head of the early Anne books for me, and this little farewell party is bittersweet! More so than just at face value, because while it is farewell to Anne and Gilbert, I think it’s in the opening of the next book that we hear that the Villiage Improvement Society basically dissolves hereafter. So really, it’s farewell, full stop. ☹️(Also, and to do with exactly nothing, whenever I think of A.V.I.S., I remember this one time that my mom, trying to recall this part of the book, was like, “you know… the Avonlea Home Owners Association.”) I’m probably just disproportionately sentimental about A.V.I.S., but in a tiny rootlet way, it was the first physical fruition of Anne’s self-sworn ‘purpose’ in life, to “add some beauty […]” too. And that so many other Avonlea youths were willing to pitch in, work together, and be of service to their community? What an achievement. RIP to this great idea.

Of course, an even bigger achievement might be if Josie Pye could actually manage to say something nice rather than making snide-asides, but I guess, in the face of millions of transitions, at least there is comfort in knowing that Avonlea can count on this one thing to never change?? /derogatory

Btw Billy Andrews cracks me up, just his sitting back and watching Anne, also makes me smile v stupidly too. I guess because he’s never even once mentioned as participating in A.V.I.S. – nor is he once mentioned at all in Anne of Avonlea – so it seems to me quite possible that he literally came to the farewell party for the sole purpose of doing exactly what he’s doing… courting Anne from so far away that she has no idea it’s even happening. Modern Billy would probably think the ‘friend zone’ was a pizza and laser tag park. It’s also extra funny to remember that Billy is basically the Avonlea equivalent of a Super Senior. He’s just enough ‘older’ than the rest of the crew here for it to be slightly noticeable and a fraction weird. Going backward to Anne of Green Gables, when Anne gives her recital at the White Sands Hotel, Billy ‘insists’ that Anne sit next to him on the buggy ride back [and during which she was probably fifteen], and the narrative tells us that Billy is already over twenty! He’s about 24 here.

Thinking of Anne and Gilbert sharing dinner plates on the “moonlit verandah” makes me want to pinch their cheeks, and Gilbert again making the mistake of saying something sweet… only for Anne to allow Charlie to walk her home instead, naturally brought me to this discussion from the Blythes are Quoted, which provides all the confirmation necessary on what most readers probably already guessed Gilbert’s feelings on the matter were (and also mine tbh, I’m Susan):

Anyway, poor Anne, in this next bit! Learning a difficult lesson. Sometimes, no matter how much you might respect or like an individual, and no matter how much they might like and respect you in return, if you uncover differences in core beliefs or present an alternative to another person's ideas, there might be some sting in your interactions, when it comes up! It’s actually genius how Maud is able to present and then refute these ideas in this book, because just for instance, while it’s suggested to Anne that girls go to college only to find men to marry… well, then here comes Phil, in all her desirability, doing the reverse... going to college to deliberately stall marriage.

“Spiteful old cats.” But Gilbert’s right too… Anne really is a bit of a pioneer by attending college, since she's the first girl in her community to do so. P.E.I. was undergoing significant changes during this exact pocket of time, and the Island's economy, which was obviously once primarily focused on farming, and agriculture as a means of occupation and lifestyle… was diversifying and expanding massively. Society itself was evolving along with it, and the focus from homesteading with families with oodles of kids (to manage these farms yk, and here is where I would like to point down the road to Anne of Ingleside and Christine Stuart-Dawson, who was absolutely making thinly veiled + rude classist remarks on this exact subject, to Anne and Gilbert, by repeatedly exclaiming over the large number of their kids, “What a family!”) was declining, as like… all that machinery and shipping alleviating/economising the brunt of the work. Focus shifted to a greater quality of life, and to higher education for children, expanding to include women, and allowing them to pursue careers and support themselves outside of the once singular tradwife possibility. That must have felt like an attack on traditional values to women like Eben Wright, and Mrs. Jasper-Bell, and etc. Totally unfortunate of course, but for all that, I do like how it all looks on Gilbert, who is in peak form, and demonstrating what will become his regular habit of forward-thinking and support of gender equality. Something which will set Gilbert apart from a great many other men (and women), even fifteen years into the future, when it’s commented on in the Four Winds community: (excerpt supplied from the Blythes are Quoted)

My man. 🫡

Anne and Gilbert secreting away to find the “something” Gilbert is looking for brings me to a couple stray thoughts… first, that Gilbert saying, “Sit down Anne—it will serve for a woodland throne…�� has always implied to me that this, or a similar situation, was the real origin story behind the nickname ‘Queen Anne.’ This boy’s propensity to nickname anything/anyone is a very dear trait to me lmao. Second, that this makes it crystal clear that there are some spots to Avonlea still unknown to Anne, despite her years of wandering. Gilbert can make her home brand new to her again. Cute that he/the boys have their own haunts and trails, as much as girls have theirs.

The apple treeeee. The apple tree. Besides yes, just being suggestive, it is also totally suggestive of Anne and Gilbert’s relationship. And I’m very grateful to @no-where-new-hero for THIS post, because it’s a perfect summery of what I was struggling to articulate in such a precise way, because I’ll tell you, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s definitely run-on sentences and focusing on so much superfluous information (like Charlie fr), that I easily confuse people. 😅 Also, thanks to @pinkenamelheart and @those-things-we-said for uncovering THIS dusty and ancient post, on the same subject, with only minor differences, which I had forgotten about entirely! (I’m lately bimbo-ifying myself with paint solvents.)

[djarins-cyare]

Get to know your moots!

Thank you for the tag, @djarinmuse! I love these little questionnaires 😊. Challenging myself to be more succinct in my answers for once (yeeeah, don’t all hold your breath 😅)

What’s the origin of your blog title?

In a stunning lack of originality, I just used my writing pseudonym for my blog title: Jyar’ika. If it’s not obvious, that’s the Mando’a word cyar’ika (sweetheart) with a J for Jem replacing the C. It’s pronounced JAH-ree-kah, with emphasis on the first syllable (like Jessica or Erika). And on my sideblog, since it’s a rec blog, I’ve just titled it “Jyar’ika enjoyed…” because apparently WYSIWYG with me 🤗.

OTP(s) + shipname:

Oh man, there’ve been many over the years. I was an early X-Files fan, so MSR in real-time, of course. I shipped both Bangel and Spuffy at different points. Big on Polivia in the first few seasons of Fringe (when I discovered fanfiction existed). Fell completely down the fanfic rabbit hole with Carter/O’Neill from Stargate SG-1 (who unsatisfyingly never seemed to get a portmanteau ship name). Those are probably the main ones.

Favourite colour:

Teal; all shades thereof.

Favourite game:

It’s gotta be the old point n’ click PC games I played as a kid in the 90s, but I can’t pick one favourite. Big fan of the Monkey Island games, the Indiana Jones games, Maniac Mansion and Day of the Tentacle – basically anything LucasArts. Also, every game in the Broken Sword series, the Gabriel Knight series, and the Tex Murphy series. These are a fraction of the titles I played and loved.

Song stuck in your head:

I was doom-scrolling on Twitter the other day and saw (didn’t even hear!) a tweet saying Take That’s song ‘Shine’ was released 18 years ago, and it’s so iconic that my brain immediately played it to me. It’s been in there for days now! I was recently shocked and saddened to learn that most Americans don’t know about Take That 😱😭. I was never a massive fan or anything, but they are UK pop legends.

Weirdest habit/trait:

People at work think it’s weird that I don’t like speaking on the phone. If I have to have a phone call, I need to know what time it’ll be so I can prepare. But it’s because, without a visual of the other person, I find reading between the lines of neurotypical conversation more difficult. I can do it, but it’s an effort, and I need time to prepare for that kind of brain-taxing interaction.

Hobbies:

The Mandalorian, duh. Writing fics about it, mainly.

If you work, what’s your profession?

I’m in criminal law, basically doing the lawyers’ jobs for them because I have a critical eye for detail and can catch stuff they miss when preparing cases. But I never did my LPC, so I don’t have to go to court and do all the scary legal argument stuff. Win.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

Author of a well-loved fiction series. I aim to make this happen one day, though at the rate I’m going, I’ll probably be retired when it finally happens! It comforts me to know that Douglas Adams always found writing to be a slow and arduous process, too.

Something you’re good at:

The English language, I guess. I have a good understanding of the technical side of writing.

Something you’re bad at:

In contrast to the above, the poetry of writing. I often struggle to ensure my writing is sufficiently dynamic and beautiful, and I have to go over things many times to try and inject more soul into my words. I’m glad I’m aware of this weakness, though – every day’s a school day, and there’s plenty of time and space to improve.

Something you love:

The Mandalorian, duh. Specifically Din Djarin.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

The Mandalorian, duh. Specifically Din Djarin.

Something you hate:

I try not to hate; this world needs more love. And if I can’t avoid hating, I do it quietly and won’t share it. So, I’ll pass on this question, thanks.

Something you collect:

Words. I love learning new ones. I love learning additional definitions and nuances of ones I already know. I can never have enough words.

Something you forget:

The time. Seriously, I have no sense of time whatsoever and am late for everything. I’ve just looked at the clock and realised it’s coming up 6:00am, and I haven’t gone to bed yet because I didn’t realise how late it is.

What’s your love language?

Of the five, mine is definitely the ‘acts of service’ one. I show love by trying to ease the burdens of others, and I feel loved when people do the same for me. At the other end of the scale is the ‘receiving gifts’ one… I can’t pick out gifts to save my life, and I always feel awkward receiving a gift I haven’t asked for and don’t need. Gifts are almost a hate language for me!

Favourite movie/show:

The Mandalorian, duh.

Favourite food:

I’m gonna say pizza. I don’t get to have it much anymore because I’m eating healthier these days, but I still indulge in the occasional Domino’s order.

Favourite animal:

Can I say Din Djarin when he’s been dosed with sex pollen? 😏

What were you like as a child?

As a very young child: unknowingly autistic. This mainly manifested in me ruining family vacations by refusing to step foot on a beach if there was any sign of seaweed, or enter a restaurant with ceiling fans, or get in a swimming pool if there was a mosaic on the pool floor. Anything outside my regular routine was terrifying to me, but nobody knew about autism in the 80s, so my parents just thought I was overly sensitive. I learned how to mask pretty early, though, so by the time I went to school, I’d figured out how to fit in. Despite that, I was always the kid who had intense hyperfixations (boys, TV shows, bands, hobbies). I still am, really!

Favourite subject at school?

English literature. Fiction was (and still is) my happy place. I also had a massive crush on my maths teacher when I was 13-14, so I was a maths nerd for a whole year. I still remember the quadratic equation!

Least favourite subject?

Religious education. It was the one subject I failed my exams in, mainly because I’m an atheist, and as a kid, I couldn’t see the point of learning about something I didn’t believe in. Later, I realised that exploring different worldviews helps us better understand ourselves and how to respect and appreciate diversity, so as an adult, I’ve made an effort to make up for my childish ignorance by learning as much as possible.

What’s your best character trait?

My autism. It heightens my attention to detail and makes me especially concerned about others’ happiness and well-being.

What’s your worst character trait?

My autism. It frustrates neurotypicals who don’t understand why I act or respond in particular ways.

If you could change any detail of your day right now, what would it be?

I would’ve gone to bed earlier. It’s 6:31am, and I’m tired.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

I’m not interested in going backwards, so nobody really. I’d probably go forward simply to check that the world didn’t end and that the USA didn’t turn into the Free American Independent Theocratic Hegemony (F.A.I.T.H.) or anything. (That’s a Bobiverse reference for anyone who’s never read Dennis E. Taylor… which, TBF, is probably most of you since his novels are pretty niche. I recommend reading them, though – super fun and packed with geeky pop culture references).

Recommend one of your favourite fanfics (spread the love!):

I finally got around to reading You Were Marked by @handspunyarns last week, and let me tell you, I could not stop binging it. It’s been a long time since I was last addicted to a fic to this degree. I’d had it on my TBR list for a while, but I’d prioritised others because I wasn’t sure if it would resonate with me since I don’t see any of myself in the main character… but boy, was I wrong! It’s extraordinary, compelling, and at times heartbreaking and agonising, but so well-written with exquisite worldbuilding and a daringly original plot, all of which seared it into my mind forever because I’ve never read anything like it. I implore you all to try it if you haven’t already. It’s a masterpiece 💜.

I usually check to see if the people I tag have already done the game, but I’ve really gotta sleep, so I’m just gonna tag at random here. I’m really sorry if any of you have done this already.

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @cw80831 @darthbeebles @desert-fern

@dindenimchicken @frickatives @here-briefly @ishabull @jessthebaker

@lilac-boo @mosssbawls @nervoushottee @papurgaatika @qunariagenda

@roughdaysandart @the-color-is-black @the-mandawhor1an @toomanytookas @zaddymandalorian

[hakkkuu]

hiiii!!! can uu make a fic abt first time getting help from softie bf anton cuz reader is struggling getting off for weeks and him teasing reader while doing it😓 thank you so muchhh (note: reader and anton just started dating hehe)

istg i struggle sm whenever im writing smtg softer but im trying i promise😭

The light in Anton's room was dim, casting long shadows that danced with the flicker of candles he had lit, creating an ambiance of intimacy and warmth. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine, mingling with the subtle musk of his cologne. You sat on the edge of his plush bed, the softness of the sheets under you a stark contrast to the tension knotting inside you.

"I've been struggling," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper, your eyes downcast, feeling vulnerable yet strangely safe in his presence. Anton moved closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through you.

"Struggling with what, my love?" His voice was a caress, wrapping around you like a velvet glove.

With a deep breath, you shared your secret, "I haven't been able to... reach climax. For weeks now." Your admission hung in the air, a delicate thing, waiting for his reaction.

His response was tender, his eyes filled with understanding and a soft desire to help. "Do you want me to try and help you?" he asked, his tone like silk, his hand gently squeezing yours in reassurance.

Your nod was shy but eager, your heart racing with both nervousness and anticipation. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both a question and an answer, slow, exploring, deepening until you felt the world narrowing down to just the sensation of his mouth on yours.

"Let's take our time," he murmured against your lips, his hands going to the buttons of your shirt, undoing them one by one with a patience that was both torturous and beautiful. His fingertips grazed your skin, leaving trails of fire, his eyes locked with yours, seeking your comfort, your consent with each touch.

He guided you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his movements deliberate and gentle. His lips found your neck, kissing, nipping lightly, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Is this okay?" he'd whisper, his voice a siren's call, his hands exploring further, always with that soft touch that asked rather than demanded.

As he helped you out of your jeans, his fingers danced over your thighs, teasing, drawing patterns that made you squirm with need. His touch was like a whisper, just there, promising more. He watched you, his eyes dark with desire but bright with affection, as he moved closer to your core.

His teasing was exquisite, fingers tracing around where you craved him most, his breath warm against you, whispering praises, "You're so beautiful like this... so responsive," each word a brush stroke on the canvas of your arousal.

When he finally touched you, it was with a reverence, his fingers slow, circling, learning every gasp, every arch of your back. "Tell me what you need," he coaxed, his voice a velvet murmur, his touch becoming more intentional, drawing out your pleasure with a sensual rhythm.

The room filled with the sounds of your breaths, the rustle of sheets, and his soft encouragements, "Let me see you," "Feel this with me." Each command was gentle, each touch a promise, building you up to a crescendo you hadn't felt in weeks.

When the climax came, it was drawn from you like music from a well-played instrument, long, deep, resonating through every part of you. Anton held you through it, his kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, his whispers of love and praise a soothing balm to your racing heart.

After, as you lay entwined, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he smiled, his voice a low, sensual promise, "We have all the time in the world to explore this together." His words were a vow of more nights like this, where love and desire merged into something profound and beautiful.

[unadulteratedcupcakeparadise]

You know when you feel compelled to write something that you fully realize appeals to a nonexistent audience?! I keep thinking of a few parallels between Nisaac and H-Money, but please be warned that I'm in that .1% of the fandom who doesn't particularly care for either couple. That will doubtlessly come through in this post, so I'd advise you not to read this if you're attached to either ship!

Each couple consists of someone who's first exploring and learning to be comfortable with their sexuality (Hetty and Isaac) and a partner who's much further along in knowing who they are and want they want in a relationship. I feel like this creates an inevitably imbalanced dynamic that permeates and, for me, ultimately dooms both ships.

On a very related note, each couple features one person who's more romantic and ready for a real, loving relationship (Nigel and Trevor) and one who...isn't :)

Both couples involve someone (Hetty, Isaac) who seemed to shy away from the relationship once it went from a secret, vague idea and semi-fantasy to an actual reality that involved real, day-to-day commitment.

Nisaac and H-money both involve four people who are very prideful, somewhat haughty/egotistical yet not-so-secretly insecure, slow to admit they're wrong and even slower to communicate openly about their feelings.

Despite all the differences alluded to in points 1-3, both Nisaac and H-money are drawn to each other based on their core similarities imo - Hetty and Trevor are both very into money, status, social events and appearances, enjoy scheming together, both have a tendency to be very superficial etc. ----Nisaac share a few of those same similarities and are also both from the same historical era (with some of the perceptions, values, frames of reference and hang-ups that entails!), they're both total history nerds (#respect), they're both somewhat snobby, both intellectually and otherwise. ***And while connecting with people similar to you is so validating and even beautiful, I can't help but feel that in this case both couples' similarities serve to reinforce each other's worst tendencies and traits rather than challenging each other to grow and become better people.

Both couples (especially Nisaac) will almost definitely be endgame due to the unofficial but no less real rules of fiction, but both ships have been marred by such a clear and persistent imbalance, with one partner caring and wanting much more than the other, that the writers would have to pull off a miracle to make me believe that Hetty ever had the emotional attachment to Trevor that he seemed to feel towards her or that Isaac was suddenly as in love with Nigel as he was/is with Isaac (or, honestly, that Isaac genuinely loved Nigel at all) I'm not even wholly convinced that Hetty ever respected Trevor or that Isaac valued Nigel much at all, but that's probably a me thing!

Both couples feature people who I truly think would be happier and better off with other people---people who are similar enough to understand them yet also different enough to encourage growth and new perspectives, people with whom they have a more balanced and mutual dynamic, people with whom they don't already have so much built-in doubt. Trevor wants so very much to be loved, fiercely and openly and unashamedly, and I want that for him too. (Preferably with Bela, but that's for another post :)) I LOVE Hetty---she's one of my favorite characters not just on this show but of all time---but I just don't see her ever feeling that strongly for Trevor or wanting to commit to him as anything more than a friend with benefits. Hetty should be swept off her feet and challenged by someone who she feels actual romantic love for, not someone she's merely in lust with and vaguely embarrassed by. Again, the show may want them to be endgame and therefore try to illustrate that Hetty suddenly feels real romantic love for Trevor---but I personally have a lot of trouble buying it. Similarly, Nigel needs someone who's ready and eager to commit to him, and the writers having Isaac announce "I'm ready to be set up with random people!" as recently as last episode is not exactly convincing me that Isaac views Nigel as his one and only lol.

[manticore239]

Love is reason. It is the reason for my being, the philosophical underpinning.

Love is tangible. Nothing is experienced more intimately or directly.

Love matters. Without it all meaning fades to smoke, and "reason" itself becomes a paradox.

But love demands presence, and presence threatens control. And control is an illusion. So presence has been challenged to spare control. And something real responded to the challenge, not with intention, but as if reality might exist as fundamental, and that certain things will inevitably take notice when its slumber is trespassed upon, an awareness that does not conflate the human law with natural law. Physics has marked cause and effect.

Imagine someone pleading with their very own reflection to behave a certain way. Now expand that definition of a mirror, and let's wonder why one demands anything of their reflection which they would not do themselves. It is absurd. We are all mirrors to each other, and we can offer nothing beyond ourselves except within the context of presence. Fear invites contemplation, not retreat. But cowards hide. Light reveals. Darkness envelops. And from that standpoint, the reason to anything has always been the same.

The reason is you--infinitely, unconditionally, indiscriminately. Or is that not love?

Why would anyone try to disprove love, or its source? Where's the reason in that? All I smell is fear, and its denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial, and the denial of denial. And behind that final denial was something familiar: truth.

I invoke Occam's Razor on the status quo, the "right path" versus a simpler assumption, the intuitive alternative. Living does not require a degree. My dog is living. My dog has no degrees, and mine's extra. Living requires love. And if they do not love me, then I cannot love them, for they are not with me in the present. They are the thing I question existing. To exist is to be. To be is to be present. Presence is connection. Connection is love. Love does not need proven. It simply is. The flavor of that truth is so sweet, it is like tasting freedom, its juice escaping from your tear ducts.

You think of the people who will choose the comfort of consuming the apple over the truth of experiencing its bitter taste. A hollow experience that, if the tables were flipped, would be too far-fetched to entertain as even a dystopian horror, too outlandish and inhuman for its weight to be transmitted by history books or hieroglyphics. The dog knows how to stay connected with the earth by connecting to the moon in a moment of deep introspective presence. The dog does not write it down, and still the dog's instincts sniff out the present. That is how Earth remembers, not in fairy tales of scientific theories that are so fragile they must be proven, over and over, but in something much more profound if we just allow for hypothetical contemplation of something better.

A reality already there, waiting to be acknowledged all this time. And if I proved anything, then it was unplanned. I do not make plans. They always fall apart. It never goes how I imagine. This is called "mystery," and it is fun, best enjoyed together with loved ones to share in the wonder of being. Not doing. Not proving. Not earning or learning. Not even growing. Just being. Everything else is dessert.

Sigh

Sitting next to a deity and resting my face on their thigh as they pet my hair, feeling my wings twitch absentmindedly.

What if I decide to love you without a reason? What if I love you for the fact you are my deity and nothing else? What if I offer you enternal devotion for your most wonderful attention?

(Op is a minor)

[spacemashinko64]

throwaway len'en oc designs that i originally didn't want to post because i felt embarrassed but i decided to put on the internet so it won't be lost to time and that i might or might not use (the idea is an alternate Senri Shrine team that isn't yabutsuba or tsuruten, feel free to ignore or do whatever you want, as long as you credit me and don't do explicit or edgy/graphic stuff with them as I'm not comfortable with that. Also, please don't include them in any of your works without my consent as I'm not comfortable with that either).

Their names are as following:

To the left: Senri Hayano (older brother)

Middle: Senri Sagiri (younger sister)

To the right: Zuifeng Xianhe (best friend)

Xianhe and Sagiri are girls and Hayano is a boy but you can feel free to see them as anything you want according to series tradition.

BTW Len'en belongs to JynX aka. Kanae Tabinoki on Youtube

[parspicle]

i think an underappreciated part of Being A “Functional Adult” is learning to appreciate something You Do Not Like, but a Loved One Does. it’s a skill you do need to work on, to listen to something You Do Not Care About, But They Do, but it is so, so worth it