#obviously I don’t know any of these people
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changeling-droneco · 3 days ago
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This is a bit of a controversial take, but I think a big problem is writers seem to be given a lot less but also expected to do a lot more. A bit of a double standards. Like fanfiction needs to be held to some higher standards to be worth existing. Like obviously there’s bullying and double standards and discourse for every version of fancreating but it feels like fanfic gets a lot shit for just, existing. It’s the butt of the joke, it’s complained about, people get really picky and really fighty over it.
People constantly complain about fanfics not being finished, or talking about how they refuse to read fanfic unless it’s completed. People complain if it’s over tagged, people complain if it’s under tagged, fanfic is constantly stolen for ai startups or apps trying to otherwise monetize it. Hell, If any kind of money crosses any hands even if it’s buying directly from the author people get up in arms about it being the death of fandom and yelling at people for being a part of it, even when every single fandom Etsy seller gets a pass for like, selling undertale stickers. I promise you me writing a thousand words of mcyter fanfic for like 15 bucks and my copy of a somewhat dark mlp fanfic I bought from the creator did not and could not do that. People constantly talk about “why don’t you just write original fiction if you’re going to make such a detailed fantasy au?” People get super picky about fanfic and get so weird about unfinished fanfic or refuse to engage with it at all. I see a lot more hate or ire or mean spirited jokes pointed at authors more then I see appreciation or care. I know every form of fan creation gets this, but it just feels like crap at how much people seem to take potshots at writers or treat them as inherently more deserving of scrutiny or as inherently more dangerous to fandom because anne rice might rise from her grave and idk delete wattpad. How fic sites get more negative attention about being evil and problematic then any more art based sites.
It’s hard to put into words ironically, but it feels like at times a good portion of fandom just, kinda hates fanfic writers? I know it’s like a small slice, but damn if they don’t get vocal at times. Though even beyond that it feels like fanfic is often seen as like, lower class of art, like it’s just inherently less serious and worthwhile then other forms of art? Fanfic being good or poignant is seen more often then not as a surprise, and then even sometimes derided for being wasted on “mere fanfiction” or mocking some like classical book or story as “just fanfiction” as a way to devalue it, as if fanfiction is unworthy of being respected as an art form and therefor anything resembling it (insert discussion about how fanfic is often seen as a more feminine thing and associated with writers often being female and how that plays into it being seen as more frivolous here)
Plus people really have no sense of boundaries with it at times. I can’t count the amount of times some YouTuber has just casually read their fanfiction for a video and derided it as weird and cringy and accidentally send a wave of people to bully the writer for being cringy. (The only time I’ve ever really seen this done well is Danny Motta because dammit if you’re gonna do it at least cosplay the anime boy you’re being shipped with, and even then he probably should have still been more solid or clear about getting permission)
I don’t have a solution either but just, stop treating authors like they are somehow more cringy or sad or lesser or dangerous then artists? Give us at least a bit of respect and acknowledgement of us being equals in creativity and innovation to other creators. Don’t be a dick about a fic set in first person or that’s formatted unusually. Especially stop bullying people over fanfic you think is bad or weird, we’ve had enough literal kids who wrote creepypasta-esque fanfic of like, dream, get bullied off the internet or worse. Someone writing grimdark fanfiction is not lesser then someone drawing a fluff comic, and vice versa.
feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)
This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.
Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.
AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.
AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.
But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.
The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.
The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.
There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.
I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.
But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.
It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.
Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.
These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.
I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.
Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?
The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.
Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.
I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.
My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”
I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.
And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”
That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.
This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.
I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.
As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.
When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.
The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.
I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!
The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.
But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.
Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.
However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.
Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.
So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.
But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:
Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.
But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.
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rhenysz · 3 days ago
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Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 3
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Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all life, manu people say that death was lurking around your eyes, Maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.
A/n: I... Well, hello. So, Merry Christmas? I didn't fix this properly...
*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with a little help from a A.i. So, let me know if there are any grammatical errors*
Word count: 3k
Warnings: None that I can remember, some humor, tension , Azriel being a dumb mother hen
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Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand had already left when you came downstairs for breakfast. Nesta grumbled that they hadn't even eaten before spreading their wings to the sky, making everything around them flutter – including the newly planted rose saplings of Elain, to her great displeasure.
Feyre often returned home in hopes that the queens had already responded. The delay was noticeable given how long ago the letter had been sent, and it was a shot in the dark trying to guess what might have happened, though you doubted the letter had gotten lost in transit, and, mind you, you weren't foolish enough to think it was their indecision.
They were making the High Lord wait for pure amusement, and maybe a little bit of sadism. The human queens were in control of the situation, and that made everything even more delicious. A power struggle where, for the first time, the weaker ones were in charge. It must have been painful to even consider discarding this succulent opportunity that had been handed to them on a golden platter—one in a million, truly.
Bringing the steaming cup of tea to your lips, you sipped cautiously to avoid burning yourself; there was no pain worse than burning your tongue – well, maybe stubbing your toe, you mused with a hum. A gust of wind passed through your hair, signaling that someone was passing by in a hurry.
“Don’t run around the house, Elain,” Nesta grumbled from her spot at the table, clearly not a morning person. Your second eldest sister slipped on the floor and turned back to stop by your side, placing one of her delicate hands on your shoulder to alert you of her presence.
Taking a deep breath, Elain spoke breathlessly, “A new batch of letters is arriving today!”
Now, this was interesting. You placed your hand on hers, squeezing her hand on your shoulder, turning your head slightly to show your interest in the topic. Not because of the letters, obviously.
“Why don’t you come with me, sister? We can stop by that little craft shop too,” Elain suggested. She certainly knew how to brighten your day, and even though you were avoiding crowds, especially those zealots who called themselves the enlightened ones – and that made your skin crawl – it was hard to resist the opportunity to get out of the house. God knows this place could be suffocating.
Nesta was irritated with anyone who breathed in her direction, Elain would shudder at the mere mention of meetings and queens, and you missed Merina and her pies. No matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to connect with your sisters as well as with Feyre, who no longer lived a human life filled with nuances like yours.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the chair and blindly grabbed your beautiful cane, intending to head for the door alone, but Elain was quicker and grabbed your wrist, guiding you somewhat hurriedly toward the exit without saying goodbye to a very grumpy Nesta.
The morning wind hit your face as you crossed the threshold, and the birds’ song pierced your ears like a sweet melody. However, as beautiful as it was, your brow furrowed at the hurry in your sister's movements. Surely, the letters couldn’t be that interesting, not to Elain, at least. She could barely stand still when the topic was on the table. Ah, the gossip you'd have today, sweet sister.
“Is there anything else you want from the city besides the letters?” Your tone was dismissive, but even the dullest of men would see the curiosity behind the question.
Elain tripped over something on the ground and almost pulled you down with her, making you question who the blind sister really was here.
She cleared her throat and finally slowed her pace. The hesitation was palpable, and the arm linked to yours grew tense as she nervously began fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.
“I... I was thinking about looking at some prettier engagement rings, maybe gold...” It came out like a croak, and that left you a little more confused. There was no doubt that Elain had good taste and could spot something beautiful from afar, so it was strange that she wanted to see new rings when she loved hers so much.
“I thought you were crazy about that one,” the sounds of people talking grew louder, and your nose wrinkled from the variety of smells; sweets, savory foods, pig dung, and, beneath it all, the fresh scent of pine and whiskey filled your lungs with a warm, inviting sensation.
“Steel” and “Feyre” and “shame” were the only words you managed to catch through the intoxicating fog of the delicious perfume you inhaled. But that was enough for no question to leave your lips.
Turning your focus back to the surroundings as your sister and cane guided you through the streets, bodies occasionally brushed past you, nearly knocking you down; shouts proclaiming devotion to the divine; more frantic cries from merchants trying to sell their goods to eat at the end of the day, and other sounds that were impossible to decipher.
As you walked, Elain stopped abruptly in her tracks. Confused, you turned your head to look at her but got no answer. Without saying a word, your sister started walking again, leaving the noise of the city behind. You quickened your steps to keep up with her, the wind certainly making your hair a tangled mess. At least you wouldn’t have to see it.
Elain slid a bit in the mud, and with a squeak, you stopped by her side. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her lungs struggled to keep up with her breathing. Gods, your sister was trying to kill you just so she wouldn’t have to share the inheritance.
“What in the hell-” you began but didn’t finish. The breeze had risen up your legs, making the hem of your dress flutter and leaving a coolness on your skin, only to disappear faster than it came.
“Azriel?” Azriel? He was the cause of your little sprint? Damn him, what was he doing in such an obvious place?
“Elain,” he greeted your sister, and as he turned to you, he spoke your name in a deep purr, sending a chill down your spine with the tone. You nodded in acknowledgment; your voice no longer belonged to you. “The letter. It’s here.”
Ah, he knew. He already knew the queens' letter had arrived today. How? You didn’t know.
“We were going to see it now,” Elain’s voice was syrupy, soft and sweet, almost like she didn’t know how to speak anymore.
A hum left Azriel’s throat. His trained eyes watched your shy form beside Elain, the corners of his lips tugged upwards but quickly disappeared as he turned his attention back to the eldest Archeron sister.
“Could you fetch it for me, Elain?” Azriel asked gently, and your sister nodded quickly, like a soldier. Not letting go of your hand, she motioned for you to go with her to fetch the letter. “Only you, please.”
Your feet stayed firmly planted, and now the air felt thin. Whatever the Shadowsinger had to say to you was making your nerves bubble.
Elain muttered in discomfort, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with someone she barely knew. Her hand squeezed yours lightly, and you pulled your hand free from her grip, distancing yourself from your sister. With your body facing the man, you encouraged Elain to go. He certainly wouldn’t kill you.
Still, your treacherous mind whispered.
With lips set in a line, Elain quickly made her way to her destination, disappearing into the crowd. The faster she went, the faster she’d be back.
Without your sister nearby, the silence was deafening and uncomfortable, and despite your brief interaction with Azriel, you still found the way his presence surrounded you intimidating.
“Do you have something to say? Or did you just make me stay here for your company?” The words came out sharper than you intended, and perhaps challenging such a powerful fae like him in broad daylight wasn’t the best idea. Shifting your weight, you crossed your arms like a shield. Not that you expected it to stop him.
Your ears perked up when you heard a rough chuckle leave Azriel. His lips pressed together; it wasn’t the response you were expecting.
“I didn’t,” he paused and licked his lips, thinking carefully about his next words. “But I feel like I do now.”
Ah, so much for being mysterious. If this non-human man wanted to make you squirm with anxiety, he was succeeding beautifully.
“And…” your voice carried impatience.
“And I don’t think you should be part of the meeting with the queens.”
Your mind stopped. It felt completely empty, focused only on trying to process Azriel’s words. Letting your arms fall to your sides, you lifted your chin, hoping you were looking at his face as you spoke. “Why? Is there a reason for this?
Simple and shyer than you intended.
Azriel was no longer amused. His face darkened into a scowl as he studied you from your structure to your features – sculpted nose, mouth pulled down, and then, eyes. His eyes were windows to his soul, so sweet that, even if not fully functional, could bring legions to their knees.
And that was the problem.
“The queens aren’t trustworthy, and I don’t want you to be a target. They’re bitter and vile with people…” His words rushed out, his wings tightening behind him, letting the weight of what he had to say burn his tongue. “...weaker ones.”
You bit your cheek until you tasted the faint copper of your blood. Indignation wasn’t the right word to describe what you were feeling, but the disbelief on your flushed face certainly expressed it.
Fragile. The Illyrian who barely knew you for more than a week was insulting you so openly, without a shred of shame. You might not see things like other people, but this made you grow a pair of balls like nothing else, and it wasn’t this male who was going to put you down now.
With clenched fists, you took a step toward him, closing the distance to a breath’s length. The smell of whiskey that had been so enticing returned, but now that you knew who it belonged to, it didn’t seem so intoxicating. Or maybe it was, a little, your mind whispered.
“I don’t think I gave you any right to make assumptions about me, fairy.” You spat the words, especially the scornful nickname you secretly used for him and his brothers.
Azriel growled low, and ah, it wasn’t because of your words.
The rustling of leaves made you step back from the winged male, and quickly, his features softened. Elain stopped next to you, breathless, handing the letter to Azriel, as if it were burning her.
“Here, it arrived last night,” she said before taking your arm and walking away as quickly as possible.
“Thank you,” Azriel acknowledged with a nod. Elain smiled tightly, already guiding you away. His voice came again, but this time as a warning, making your shoulders tense. “Don’t forget what I said.” And then he was gone, swallowed by his shadows as if he had never been there.
Elain furrowed her brow and turned to you, questioning what Azriel had meant.
“Nothing, he didn’t say anything.” Nothing you cared about, at least.
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“Hold your breath,” Nesta reprimanded you, her fingers pulling tighter on your corset strings, her delicate fingers and the crushing leather threatening to break your ribs.
“Tighten it any more, and watch me turn purple on this floor, sister.” You gasped out the words with difficulty. Nesta clearly wanted to kill you. You knew she was against you exposing yourself at the meeting, but you never thought she'd deliberately try to kill you.
“Stop whining, it's ready.” Nesta grumbled, and then her presence pulled away from you, her footsteps echoing as she walked to the vanity in front of you. Your head tilted to the side at the sound of objects clinking. She was making a mess, no doubt.
Nesta's heat returned as she stopped in front of you. Her warm hand held your chin firmly but gently, and the bristles of a brush tickled your lips. It was soft, sticky, with a faint scent of roses. Lipstick.
Nesta was dressing you up like a doll. Your chest warmed at the feeling. Having your sister care for and pamper you like this was a delight. It was fleeting, but so appreciated when it happened.
Pulling the brush from your lips, Nesta glanced at you. Long, trembling lashes, cheeks rosy with powder, angelic features. You were beautiful. A slight tug appeared on her lips, satisfied with her work.
“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to start thinking you like me.” Your playful voice earned an eye roll from Nesta, who, with a huff, stepped away from you, already missing the warmth of her presence.
"Don't be fooled," Nesta retorted playfully, you expected it to be a joke as she took your arm in hers and began guiding you out of your room and into the living room. The shrill creak of the door alerted you that you were passing through the main hall, just a few steps away from the comfortable armchairs that Elain had arranged for you. "Sit down, they should be arriving soon."
Groping for the armchair, you slowly lowered yourself until you were seated. Your sister settled beside you, and barely half a second later, a knock echoed on the door. Nesta took a deep breath beside you, and abruptly stood up, walking toward the door. As much for a brief break, a laugh escaped you. Hopefully, she wouldn't hear it.
The sound of what seemed like a crowd of footsteps approached where you were, low, nervous murmurs could be heard, and a melodic voice, different from those you already knew, made your eyebrow raise in curiosity.
"Sister, you look beautiful," Feyre greeted you warmly, her hands on your shoulder for a hug. A little awkwardly, you stood to hug her better. Nestling your face into her neck, you squeezed her tighter. It felt like you hadn't seen her in a decade. The sound of someone clearing their throat made your sister pull away from the hug, to your disappointment. "Sorry. Mor, this is my younger sister."
Mor? Another fae? You turned to where you thought she was. Mor smiled and approached, taking your hand in hers. Her sudden action made you jump slightly.
"It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre has told me so much about you." Her voice was gentle, her shoulders relaxed, and you let yourself return her smile. She seemed like a woman with a strong spirit. Perhaps Nesta could find a friend in her.
"I'm happy to meet another one of my sister’s friends." You greeted her properly with a nod.
"That's enough, Mor. You're suffocating her." A cold shiver ran down your spine when Azriel's rough voice reached you. The memory of your last encounter still vivid in your mind. Your face twisted into a grimace. Mor huffed and pulled away, muttering about how Azriel was a joy-killer. You could agree with that.
Feyre, beside you, looked at the two of you with suspicion. Since you entered, Azriel hadn't taken his eyes off you, following every movement like a hawk. Your reaction to him only seemed to intrigue her more. With a kiss on your forehead, she guided you to sit again.
It seemed everyone was settling into their places, Elain arriving elegantly late and sitting to your right, Nesta a little farther to your left. You couldn’t tell exactly where everyone else was, but someone was behind you. You could feel the warmth of their presence.
"Stubborn artisan." Damn fae.
Azriel teased you with the nickname. If you could give him nicknames, why not? He took a step closer, leaning against your chair, ignoring the sharp look you shot at him. He bent down slightly, just enough for you to hear, his velvety tone making your hairs stand on end.
"You seemed more inclined to listen that night." Your face heated with the memory. With a small grin, Azriel stood up and turned his gaze away, completely satisfied with himself.
Before you could think of a witty retort, a loud bang echoed through the house, making everyone tense. They’ve arrived. The human queens were finally here. It was time to begin the meeting that would put everything at stake.
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TAGLIST: @dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit
@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638
@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld
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@esposadomd @justdreamstars
@microwaveallthedemons @cherryinsalemverse
@stqrgirlies-blog @brujitafantomatico
@bionic-donut @kemillyfreitas
@judig92 @sassybluebird
@frietiemeloen @success78 @mariahoedt @macimads @prongslena @hnyclover @bravo-delta-eccho @cherryinsalemverse @weasleyreidstyles
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amiaclone · 1 day ago
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Can you do one with the salesman and reader, where they are playing Russian roulette like the scene with him and gi-hun, and then they start falling for eachother?
Oooh never done anything like this before sure!
Salesman x gn! Reader
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*You ran across the streets like your life depended on it trying to keep up with the man in the suit.*
*Like Gi hun you offered to work with him to end the games these people liked to do for a living you never won the games with Gi hun you did however survive the first game and were one of the few people who chose not to return*
*Hey! You’ve got a family even if you’re in debt to lots of money! Anything better then dying anyway*
*You were with two other guys you were in the very back you ended up losing track of them so you’re now trying to make time using there location they sent*
*You reached a dead end in the alleyway now only hearing the sounds of bins falling you immediately reached for your pockets*
*You had a knife one of the other guys had a gun….where are they?*
“Looking for someone?”
*You immediately turned your head almost instinctively and came face to face with the man you were hunting all day*
*He smirked eyeing you down like a predator would…..gross.*
“Hey pretty face long time no see.”
*He called you that the first time you met….the salesman is what you call him the one who finds players and recruits them….what a disgusting job*
“You…” *You keep your knife behind your back waiting to see if he engages any attack however he drops his case*
“If you think I’m here to kill you I would have already….i’ve been watching you for quite a bit…” *That alone almost made your spine shiver* “ I already had some fun with your “friends” anyway” *He cleared his throat keeping the same smirk on his face*
*That smirk almost filled with amusement and psychoticness what an interesting but terrifying man*
“You…..you killed them….”
*You weren’t shocked that he’d do such a thing but there was two against one! This man is obviously a threat…..*
*He however shook his head keeping the same smirk however his eyes widened a little*
“We had a game that’s all.”
*You shook your head and then out of the blue he took a step forward you followed suit taking a step back*
“What do you want?”
*You both said at the same time you quirked an eyebrow trying to keep a brave face while he had a small grin*
“I’ll answer first since a “lovely” like yourself asked.”
“I want to….play a game perhaps.”
*You shook your head*
“Why should i?”
*He seemed to pretend he was thinking*
"You're working with Gi hun aren't you? you know….you and him both have these amazing delusions about saving humanity so….I'll give you answers about the games *if* you win"
*You scoffed*
"How am i supposed to know i can trust you?"
*He seemed to take delight in that*
"Your choice. All up to you."
*You pondered in thought what will you gain? you could die but if you accept theres a chance you could find something big*
*And if you decline nothing will happen you could waste an opportunity but potentially live…..*
*Your mouth then spoke before you could even comprehend*
“What if I don’t win?”
*He laughed a bit*
“I was waiting for that! Hah….Well simple….theres a lot I could do…i could kill that lovely face of yours or…..make sure you or Gi hun can’t interfere with our business again….or…..well let’s see how it goes shall we?”
*He quirked an eyebrow waiting to see if you’d agree or not this was bad*
“I’ll agree if….you tell me what game we’re playing first…to make it fair.”
*He smirked raising an eyebrow handsomely*
“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?”
*Your heart nearly stopped beating for a second….he can’t be serious*
*Never mind he definitely is*
*He kept that same almost psychopath like smirk like he was enjoying this…*
“I suppose you’ve heard of it now… the choice is up to you will you….play with me?”
*You tensed and just blurted out*
“Let’s do it.”
*Hey you’d rather die atleast trying to stop the games but you know Russian roulette….your confident you’ll win.”
*He seemed almost shocked for a second you of all people would agree but that regained back to his usual composure*
“Well then i have it in my brief case the things we’ll use…”
*He brought me down further the alleyway and found an abandoned warehouse that had one table and two chairs facing each other*
“Since im fairly confident in myself why don’t you go first?”
*You shrugged you’d rather take the first one first declares a win i guess?*
*You put the gun and……It was fine.*
“Of course first obviously you’ll be fine…”
*He smirked a bit before taking it he placed the gun on the end of his nose*
*Clicked and nothing happened*
“You know something im just wondering….its surprising you’re agreeing to this since you chose not to go back after red light green light”
*You took it placing it on the bridge of your nose nothing happened*
“I chose not to go back because i would have gained nothing from playing a few games compared to me there’s a chance I wouldn’t have won…”
*He took it placing the gun on his forehead*
“You know….the day I met you….everything I said was and is still the truth…..you have a captivating beauty.”
*He pulls the trigger and nothing happens i take it placing it on my forehead mainly to spite him*
“Oh really care to give into more detail?”
*You said it to humour him but he seemed to take it serious you pulled the trigger and for a second it seemed like it would have killed you but….*
*Nothing happened*
“Heh well……your eyes are fairly attractive every time you look at them it’s like there brand new all over again…”
*He placed the gun on the inside of his mouth that would normally disgust you it interested you in a….weird way*
*He pulled the trigger and it clicked. Nothing happened*
“Well the eyes compliment was nice….but looks aren’t everything.”
*You placed the gun on the bridge of your nose again and it clicked nothing happened you weren’t even paying attention to care if something happened*
*He smirked*
“Well why didn’t you decide to go back? After all your debt was pretty big if I’ll say……9 billion? And you still thought you had a chance”
*He pulled the trigger on his forehead and nothing happened*
“Anything’s better then dying”
*You take the gun and pull the trigger nothing happens this is getting boring….the salesman is up to something but what? What are those handsome eyes staring at me planning?*
“Cheap answer you didn’t go back just not to die? Knowing well your debt was just gonna get bigger and bigger….”
*He took the trigger and didn’t even hesitate to pull it and……nothing happened*
“You don’t seem like you have any but i have a family and loved ones waiting for me”
“Love is a ridiculous concept”
*This goes on forever taking the trigger and none seeming to pull victory*
*Each time the two of you only got more captivated by each other*
“You know the thing you said about love”
*He pulled the trigger and faced it towards his heart*
“It seemed you have stolen it.”
*A loud bang happened that nearly shot you out of your seat*
*But he was still alive it was nothing?*
*The salesman laughed* “That trick works every time was getting a bit bored doll….i think you’ve won at something.”
*Your eyes widened a bit* “Wait i won?” *The salesman seemed in denial for a second* “I suppose for showing me that….some things that aren’t blood and murder are still interesting” *he winks*
Hope you liked it if I haven’t gotten back to anyones asks yet believe me I’ll write it im just taking my timeee
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goaskangel · 17 hours ago
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dad's bestfriend!nanami x reader
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a/n...had really good ideas 4 this and it kinda WORKED OUT??? i fu want more lmk!! im a sucker for older dudes (and ONLy them) nanami will save us all EEK. also i see hiromi as y/n's father, that's what i had in mind writing this!!! THIS HAS SLIGHT CORRUPTION STUFF, LIL GUILT STUFF, LOTS OF KISSIINGGG
you usually paid no mind to the people your father brought over. mostly colleagues or just a few friends to drink and converse with in your shared apartment. one friend he’d seem to bring over a lot had caught your eye. as if his ever-changing ties and snug khakis weren’t enough to make you grin, his mannerism was much too attractive. greeting you respectfully, listening and chuckling to your rare comments and jokes to their discussion over drinks in the kitchen. getting comfortable to just speak to you while your dad’s out or busy with something, always listening with intent. 
it’s so sexy, you think, your hands up to your face as you lay to your side in bed. dreaming conscious thoughts of what his big hands would feel like on you, or the same breath he smokes out against your neck. your guilt no longer dragging you down after all this time. 
once, you sit close to him, smiling and trying to make your staring of his ringless finger unnoticeable. he wonders, aloud, how don’t you have a boyfriend? you shrug, “jus’ not very interested.” you smile when he chuckles, most likely at your thought process. part of you hopes he doesn’t ask what you're looking for because you’d go straight to overworked suited-men. skip over the blonde and big traits just to seem more vague. of course you were interested, you were interested the moment he mentioned he had no family. no wife, no kids. just focused on his work and drinks, a few cigars and baked goods. the absence of your father to run a quick errand wasn’t helping, your eyes zigzagged down his undone tie and exposed blue button-up, his blazer down beside him. you’d thought about taking the garment or increasing the loft’s heater just to see him get all worked up and hot but being this close to him gave you the same thrill. the topic of marriage came up.
“you shouldn’t wait too long, i waited too long.” he says with sincerity. 
“hehe. with all truth, mister, i think you’re doing it on purpose. you are handsome.”
he sits up at the title, a confused smile at his face, “yeah? i could say the same thing about you, pretty.”
god, if you were any worse, the first time he’d use that petname you would’ve pounced on him sooner. “dad says guys my age are after one thing and i agree. you wouldn’t disagree with my dad, would you?” your head tilts and waits for a response to your bratty remark. “well, i suppose your father knows a thing or two.” he nods, crossing his arms. your eyes trail again, watching the toned muscle flex casually against his rolled sleeve. you swallow the pool of spit in your mouth. 
“he’s strict, though. haven’t you noticed?” you get up from your seat and walk to pour yourself another glass of water, “doesn’t ever let me have anybody over.” 
“uh-huh.” his brown eyes stare at you intently to understand your point. 
“it gets lonely, mister.” instead of sitting back down, you stand right in front of him. placing your glass on the glass table. his arms now rest out on the table as he traces delicate circles on the rim of his half empty cup of whiskey. “i obviously can’t tell my dad that so i’m telling you and i just know you’d understand.” your hand rests atop his and slowly curls under his big palm.
he clears his throat of the sudden nervousness, “well, yes. i know that feeling all too well.” you hum a response when he turns his body to face you better. you mumble gently, “my dad won’t be home.” your hand squeezes him tighter. you notice how his brows furrow just the slightest bit as he lowers his head down, letting out a small sigh. but he doesn’t oppose it. doesn’t move when you lead his hand down to your hip, the tips of his fingers riding up your shirt. so pliable, his other resting hand now being guided up, up, up your shirt. his warm palm against your much softer skin. “won’t tell anyone, nanami.” 
his breathing is shaky and his eyes seem to have gotten heavier, but he scoots almost off the seat, to get closer. his vision glued onto the bump of where his hand is underneath your shirt, beneath the wire of your bra. 
“i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” fucking hell, you made this so fucking hard. 
“you’re damn irresistible.” he slurs through his teeth, swearing to himself that his mouth dried when you gripped his hand to squeeze the fat beneath your breasts. you feel dizzy, so good that he’s not resisting, that he can’t resist. he kneads and gropes the side of your hips and thighs, getting closer to your ass. impatiently, he stands and manhandles you closer to his bigger frame. you hear how his breathing’s stabilized but heavier, his expensive cologne finally hitting you when you lean up against his neck. he damn near groans when he gets his hands on you properly. dragging his hands on your back, pushing your body right against his much warmer one. your knees grow weak, if his grasp was any looser, you could’ve collapsed right on him. you take your arms and wrap them firmly against his broad shoulders and thick neck, moaning quietly against the veins under his ear. he feels his khakis getting tighter with every breath you take. a smile grows against your cheeks when you feel the slight stubble at his jaw, you kiss at it. 
still moaning between kitten licks against his mature skin, he turns to press his lips to yours. quick little pecks between breaths, he savors each one and quickly returns for more. the sour taste of his bitter whiskey intoxicating you from his much sweeter mouth.
“been..wanting..this..nana–mi..!” you can’t contain your grown obsession to which he shushes you. nodding slowly against your mouth while he keeps your head in place. when you pull away, you take his hands and lead him into your open bedroom. the idea of your father coming home slowly fading the closer you got what you wanted. you got so eager when he sat you on the edge of your bed, standing between your hanging legs. your hands wanting to hold onto his belt, to slowly unbuckle it but he caught them beforehand, kissing and sucking on your soft wrists and forearms. his lips find their way to your neck and ear where he whispers. 
“it's wrong, i know. so, so wrong, but my god…” he holds onto your neck and carefully grinds himself into your clothed cunt, making you arch your back and buck your hips into him, whining. you could cry from all the teasing he’s doing. “shouldn’t be doing this, sweetheart…dad can’t know, okay?” he keeps his now firm bulge against you. you moan another cry and kiss him again a bunch, nodding, rubbing tongues and messing up the gel in his blonde hair. the very open door reveals the sound of clinking keys and chains, doors opening and closing. too dizzy and much too dazed to even frown, you just stare into his soft brown eyes. they get farther away as he gently lets you go, kissing your temple for good measure before heading to the bathroom, leaving you with shaking legs. hopefully his plans of staying over stays the case.
masterlist
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plaidos · 2 days ago
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I have no particular dog in this fight as I'm not a GF superfan or anything, but I would like to question a bit of your analysis.
I think you're right that the version of GF where Dipper is transmasc makes Mabel's canonical actions transphobic.
I would like to question the insinuation that those same actions would've been "normal sibling rivalry" (?!) were Dipper closeted transfem or even cismasc, as opposed to "worst sister ever" (!?) behavior. Especially if we're going with transfem Dipper, those incidents of bullying remind me much more of patterns of bullying against transfeminine people, and intersex people CAMAB (such as myself) that I've personally witnessed/experienced.
Also, to the idea that Mabel being transphobic fundamentally changes her character in some way. Like, sometimes characters we're supposed to like hold a bigoted attitude which they will unlearn over the course of the story. Sokka from Avatar and Weiss from RWBY come to mind. Mabel being one of those characters doesn't fundamentally change her storyline or arc.
you’re right, Mabel’s actions and teasings are still mean with a transphobic undercurrent — even if Dipper is a dyadic cis boy, to be honest. but she’s also a twelve year old born in 1999. i too have received the kind of bullying associated with the way Mabel acts towards Dipper about his gender, but i’ve also had similarly “jokes” from loved ones who didn’t realise how shitty they were being because they didn’t have the political framework to analyse what is fucked up about it.
but if we’re reading Dipper as transmasc, it’s like… everybody he knows is accepting enough of his identity to gender him correctly, but they’re still totally willing to say things to him that you would categorically know are bigoted even at that age. like a twelve year old cisgender girl who knows about trans people and respects their existence might not realise how needlessly callous she is being when she teases her (seemingly) cisgender brother for having “girly” interests, but that same cisgender girl would probably be able to identify that her openly transgender brother wouldn’t want to wear makeup and that it would be incredibly fucked up to make him. i’m not saying it’s “right” but Mabel needs to actively Be A Transphobe (rather than just having some twelve year old cis girl ideas about gender & masculinity) to treat Dipper the way she treats him if he is openly transmasculine, but I feel like there’s more of a plausible deniability. i feel like the Mabel we see in the show is a couple years away from being like “wow, that was spectacularly mean of me, i hope that didn’t have an effect on Dipper’s self worth”
i feel like if (in the crazy alternate universe where this is possible) there were an episode where Dipper came out as transfem after feeling hurt by Mabel’s jokes she would be really torn up about it. she’d say something like “i’m really sorry, i didn’t know you felt so strongly about gender… i thought we were just joking around but i should be paying more attention to how you feel, Dipper…. wait, maybe you don’t want to be called Dipper any more. Oh no I AM a bigot!!!” and then Soos would come in and be like “heheh. total hatecrime dude” and then we’d cut to Bill being like “i don’t care what gender you are pine tree… i’m gonna get that GIRL if it’s the last thing I do” except girl would be obviously ADR’d over in Alex Hirsch’s normal voice with his live action mouth over Bill’s animated mouth
also transfeminine Dipper has just always made more sense. the big argument was that he uses a nickname instead of his birth name which he keeps a secret. and that would make sense if Dipper had a girl’s name, but Dipper’s birth name is “Mason”. so he actually is choosing to not use a male name and instead use something gender neutral, even though he really loves matching with his twin sister & having matching names is a family tradition — so he probably has a pretty big reason to not use it, considering he still doesn’t even with all the reasons he has to.
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taurasiscntybun · 3 days ago
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Home for the Holidays
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- DT x younger femme
- 18+ minors dni
-Fluff and Smut
-Warnings: Age gap, Mommy kinky, public sex, oral sex, strap on, praise kink, risky sex, breeding kink
-5.9k words (giving yall a long one to make up for lack of posting don’t yell at me)
- inspired by a h*rny idea dm from @taurasicomplex
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“You have to behave Dee, I’m serious.” You sigh and turn in your seat to look at her. She hums in response and drums her long fingers on the steering wheel.
“You like it when I’m naughty though baby.” She teases and steals a glance at you at the red light.
“That may be true but my parents are already in a tizzy over the age difference; I don’t want to give them any more reason to dislike you.” You say with a sigh. Diana was closer to your parents age than yours and it had been the topic of plenty of heated family discussions. Now you were bringing her home for the holidays; meeting everyone at once.
“I know baby, I’m not gonna do anything I think will piss off your parents. I even wore this stupid ass sweater for you to show I’ve got Christmas spirit. But if they already hate me, what can I do?” She accelerates the car and you stare out the window again, not sure of a good answer. The twinkling lights of your ridiculous matching Christmas sweaters seeming to mock your intense thought. Diana had refused to wear the sweater at first; a giant rudolph with Christmas lights strung through his antlers, the Christmas lights that actually turned on.
“Well the good thing is. my cousins will be there and they’re all very excited I'm dating a professional basketball player, I’m sure they’d rather I be dating someone with an NBA salary, but whatever.” You joke, and Diana snorts a laugh.
“It’s not like you’re in need.” She raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at your designer dress as you swat her arm.
“You bought me this for my birthday, you old witch!” You protest, but the laugh is evident in your voice.
“And you look fucking sexy in it; I should have made rules about when you can wear it. Although the giant reindeer covering your gorgeous tits is a bit of a bummer.” Diana groans, and you bite your lip. It isn’t a revealing dress but it certainly flatters your figure and shows off your legs. You’d made it even more modest by adding your sweater on top. Obviously you had to walk in looking the best; you hadn’t seen most of these people in a year. You probably already won bragging rights by dating a multi gold medalist, but it didn’t hurt to look the best too. The road opens up and Diana places her right hand on your thigh, not scandalously but as a casually intimate gesture; wanting to touch you as much as possible.
“People like you Dee, I’m sure they’ll warm up fast.” You cover her hand with your smaller one and turn to look out the window again.
“Everyone keeps staring at me.” Diana says through gritted teeth as she walks with you to the kitchen, a large stack of dishes in her hand.
“Well you’re the first girlfriend I’ve brought home, you’re significantly older, and you’re a professional athlete… there’s plenty of reasons for them to stare.” You answer in a resigned tone as you sit your pile of dishes in the sink.
“They could at least try to be normal.” She grumbles and scrapes her food into the trash before joining you at the sink.
“Well subtlety isn’t a family trait obviously.” You grab the sponge from the counter and squeeze dish soap on it.
“Your parents don’t have a dishwasher?” Diana asks in astonishment. You laugh and shake your head.
“They do, but it’s a shitty one so everything needs a bit of pre-wash. Personally I think that defeats the purpose, but mom is happy. It just means big meals like this are a pain.” You swipe the sponge over the first dish.
“If you hand me them I’ll load the dishwasher.” Diana offers, having spotted the old appliance. You nod and hand her the dish. You two continue in silent domesticity.
“Alright the washers full babe, we’ll just have to do another load” Her arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against her. You let out a quiet gasp and turn to look over your shoulder at her with a grin.
“Are you sure you know how to load a dishwasher? You’re a hazard in the kitchen usually.” You tease and spin around to face her. Diana’s hands quickly travel down to grope your ass through your dress.
“Not being able to help cook means I’ve cleaned up after plenty of meals, baby.” She leans forward slightly, forcing your back to arch against the sink.
“Well I’ll trust you then.” You concede, your tone breathier than you’d like. Diana squeezes your ass again and nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck.
“If you’d move in with me like I asked you’d know I can load a dishwasher.” She grumbles, her words muffled as she leaves open mouthed kisses up down the column of your neck.
“We…we’ll talk about that later, Dee, and this…” Your words trail off as Diana sucks lightly at your pulse point, her hands kneading your ass.
“Now we’ve gotten through dinner, are we allowed to leave? And we will talk about it later” Her words are gruff with impatience, the warmth of her breath ghosting across your neckline.
“N..not yet… we have the Christmas cake.” You stutter and grip the counter tighter, your breath growing shallow as her kisses move lower towards the collar of your sweater. Suddenly you hear voices approaching and you straighten up, Diana pulling away but keeping a hand on the small of your back.
“I think they’re gonna come looking for us, baby. Now tell me about this Christmas cake we have to be there for.” She gives your ass one last pat.
“Yeah I know, it’s a whole thing, basically there’s a coin somewhere in the cake and whoever gets that slice has luck for the year. So we all have to sit at the table and eat.” You explain and join the rest of your family in the dining room.
“That sounds fu-“ Diana is cut off by your mothers voice
“ ‘bout time you got back in here.” She calls, clearly a little annoyed at your delay.
“Sorry mom, but we loaded the dishwasher. And yes we cleaned them off first.” You placate and take your seat at the table, Diana next to you. She subtly scoots her chair a little closer to yours before sitting.
“Yes, well in your girlfriend's forty-two years you’d think she’d learn to load a dishwasher a little faster.” Your father mutters under his breath, clearly the most disapproving. You feel Diana’s hand on your thigh reassuringly. She’s told you the age comments don’t bother her much, but it bothered you. It didn’t matter how much older she was, you loved her and she cherished you like the most precious thing.
“I do keep telling you to get a new dishwasher.” You say out loud, calling him out for his comment.
“Oh well. It’s fine now, they’re here and we can cut the cake.” Your mother titters and brandishes a knife.
“Of course mom we’ll all be respectful at the table.” You shoot your father and other whispering family members looks. The cake had been your contribution to dinner, making sure the most fun aspect was vegan for Diana. The knife hovers over the cake as your mother glances at the table one more time before cutting; the spongy cake giving way immediately.
“The whole coin thing seems fun; what’s the success rate?” Diana teases and the table seems to take a breath of relief that she isn’t bothered by your fathers comments.
“Oh I don’t know, last year I got the coin, a couple weeks later I met you.” You answer before anyone else has a chance, turning to look at her.
“Your dad got it two years ago and had a promotion at work, so I’ll cross my fingers.” Your mom says and divvies out the small plates of cake to the table. Diana’s hand slips higher, her pinky teasing the hem of your dress.
“A good two years in a row? Maybe if I find it you’ll move in with me?” Diana asks, her voice barely audible as she leans over to whisper in your ear. You glance around the table at your odds.
“Fine.” You took yours and Diana’s plates from your mother, standing slightly to lean across the table. Diana uses the opportunity to slide her hand under your dress. The plates clatter down in front of you, rougher than you intended but the jolt of desire shooting through made your brain slow down.
“This is different from last year, did you use a new recipe, honey?” Your aunt calls from across the table, a fork full of cake paused at her mouth.
“Oh yeah, uh it’s a vegan cake so Dee can have some.” You state confidently and softly run your hand down her arm, the sleeves of the sweater pushed up to reveal her freckled skin. She squeezes your thigh in response, her pinky almost grazing the hem of your panties.
“Huh, I just think with family tradition..” your aunt starts but you cut her off.
“We’re still doing the whole tradition; I just made a cake that will include all of us.” You retort with an air of finality on the subject. Diana’s finger traces your panties as if rewarding you. She looks at you with warm eyes and gives you an appreciative smile.
“I’m glad to be included.” She says innocently her hand shifting so her ring finger circles your clit. You suck in a harsh breath and shoot her a glare. She ignores you; taking a bite of cake, her finger not stopping its maddening circle.
“D…Dee” you whisper and look up at her with wide eyes.
“Hmmm? Taste your cake baby, I wanna know if you got the coin.” She answers loudly, using her free hand to take another bite. You pick up your fork and take a moment to try and still your trembling hand. She smirks at you, middle finger moving to run up and down your clothed slit.
“Well I’m not the lucky one this year, and honey, the cake was great. I didn't even notice it being vegetarian or whatever.” Your dad proclaims and pushes his empty plate away.
“V..vegan” you correct and try to steady your breath. You know your skin must be flushing as your panties continue to dampen under her touch. Your dad makes a non-answer huffing noise and turns his attention to your uncle next to him. The rest of your family continues to talk, their voices and small laughs drowned out by the feeling of her nimble fingers against you, just a thin strip of fabric separating you.
“So what’s the plan for Christmas morning usually?” Diana asks and takes another bite of her cake. Her middle finger hooks in your underwear and she slowly pushes it to the side. You jump in your seat and paste on a smile as she finally touches your cunt.
“Honey, are you ok?” Your mother asks and looks at you concerned. You smile and quickly shovel more cake in your mouth.
“O..oh look I didn’t get the coin.” You say in a slightly high pitched tone. Diana teases your sensitive clit and you bite your lip.
“I got the coin!” Diana says happily and holds up the coin proudly, pulling her hand away from you like it was nothing. She subtly wipes her hand on her pants.
“Congratulations honey! I hope some of that luck rubs off.” Your mother looks from Diana to you and winks. Your brain stumbles to catch up as your pussy throbs for her touch.
“Oh my god! Yay Dee!” You compose yourself and lean over to hug her, deciding it was an appropriate amount of PDA. She grins happily and pats your arm around her lovingly.
The couch sinks under Diana’s weight and she immediately pulls you close to her. She takes a sip of her red wine before sitting it on the end table. After dinner everyone had either left for their hotel or had retired to the living room with a glass of wine. Since your parents were hosting, you and Diana would be staying in your childhood bedroom. Your family was nice enough to set her up a pallet of blankets on the floor to sleep on, of course in reality she would be squished in the full size bed with you.
“Yeah I’ve been to six Olympics.” Diana answers your cousin's question you didn’t hear, too focused on how your body feels on fire with need for her.
“That’s so cool, is it true there’s like anti-sex beds?” He leans forward in his chair, suddenly interested in your girlfriend.
“I googled you before you came, you’re pretty good at basketball.” Your dad tells her and reclines in his chair. Diana smiles politely at their words, used to this kind of questioning.
“Uh, yes they have cardboard beds, but I don’t know if the rumor is true they’re anti-sex beds, and thank you, I try.” Diana answers easily, her arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair. You glance up at the clock on the wall hoping it was late enough that you could excuse yourself for bed. You needed a cold shower. As if reading your mind Diana drains the last of her wine and speaks.
“You know I’m pretty tired from the drive here, I hope you guys don’t mind if I head to bed early. Wanna be well rested for Christmas you know.” Diana says and stands from the couch. Obediently you stand up with her, your mother pauses her conversation and looks up at the clock.
“We’ll uh see you in the morning?” You smile and notice Diana already heading up the stairs, clearly not caring for approval.
“Oh…ok well, goodnight sweetie.” Your mom furrows her brows but no one else presses the subject as you follow Diana up the stairs. Out of sight Diana pushes you against the door to your room, her lips immediately finding yours in a frantic kiss.
“W..wait Diana we.. we can't, my whole family is down there.” You protest weakly and fumble behind you for the doorknob. Diana kisses up your neck, hand tangled in your hair.
“You’ll have to be quiet then baby, don’t want your mom to hear you call someone else mommy.” She whispers in your ear, her voice low and husky. Finally you find the knob and you stumble into your room. She quickly follows and closes the door behind her, twisting the lock. It doesn’t take much for you to give in; you wanted her, your body aching for her touch. She was right, you’d just have to be quiet. Diana walks you back against the bed.
“First, I’m taking off this fucking sweater.” She unceremoniously tugs the light up sweater over her head, balling it up and tossing it into her suitcase.
“Take your dress off baby.” She instructs, her tone hushed and starts to undo the buttons of her shirt. Quickly you rip off your sweater too and fumble behind you for the zipper of your dress. Your fingers trembled with excitement.
“Too slow” Diana softly chides and reaches behind you to drag the cool metal zipper down your skin. You tug the dress off as she sits her shirt to the side and unbuckles her dark jeans.
“I don’t know if you’re going to be mad or excited..” Diana speaks softly and bends over her suitcase, digging around a moment before pulling out a… familiar sight.
“You brought the fucking strap to my family Christmas?!” You whisper yell and she raises her hands placatingly, the object in question still in one of her hands.
“Baby, I think it’s gonna come in handy, don’t you?” She asks and starts to pull her jeans down. “Come in handy so you don’t have to cum from a handy.” She jokes, clearly proud of her wordplay and you snort a laugh.
“We can’t make noise Dee.” You warn softly, but don’t say no. Diana gives you a wild grin and steps out of her jeans and boxers, walking back to you on the bed in a few quick strides.
“Th..the headboard” You whisper worriedly and glance over at the wooden headboard.
“Don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna move an inch. I’m gonna lay on the bed, and you're gonna ride mommy’s cock.” She hooks the harness in place around her hips as she speaks softly. Diana pushes you back onto the bed, her taller frame covering yours as she trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.
“Take everything off.” She whispers in your ear, her voice laced with her own need. You nod quickly and unhook your bra, and Diana pulls it off you, same with your damp panties.
“Fuck baby, I’ve been thinking about this all day.” She groans and sucks one of your nipples into her mouth eliciting a moan from you. One hand braces herself on the bed and the other grips your inner thigh as she speaks. You arch your back, pressing your chest more into her.
“It was so sexy seeing you stand up for me, I think you deserve a reward.” She says against your skin, swapping to lavish your other nipple with attention. Her tongue circling the sensitive flesh before sucking it into her mouth.
“Diana… mommy please.” You moan and writhe under her.
“Shhh baby, you don’t want anyone to hear do you?” Her fingers run down your slit and she gently presses her middle finger into your wet pussy. You bite your lip, stifling a moan.
“Gotta test how wet you are for me.” Diana’s voice is soft as she thrusts her finger maddeningly slow.
“M..more please” You whisper and she chuckles, adding her index finger and scissoring them open.
“Fuck” You whimper quietly at the delicious stretch.
“You’re so tight baby, gotta get you ready.” She groans in response, flicking her tongue over your nipple. Diana moves her thumb to your clit, her fingers moving at an achingly slow speed.
“Please.” You beg softly and she grins against your breast. She speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers inside to tease your most sensitive areas. Diana kisses and sucks from your breasts to your mouth, kissing you passionately, her breathing almost as ragged as yours.
“M..more, mommy” You whisper, your voice strained with whiny need as you break the kiss.
“You want my cock baby? Ask again properly.” Diana half growls, her voice a deep whisper as she pulls her fingers from your wet cunt. She sucks her fingers into her mouth, cleaning your arousal off them.
“Please mommy, I..I need your cock…please” you whine softly and she nods.
“Good girl” Diana rolls off you and pushes herself into the middle of the bed, her back against the headboard, thick dildo jutting up from her hips.
“Come let mommy fill you up baby.” She pulls you toward her and you obediently straddle her hips, her big hands holding your waist and stopping you from sitting.
“Remember you have to be quiet or mommy will have to stop.” She warns and slowly guides you down onto her cock. Diana watches in rapt attention as the dildo pushes into your wet heat. You bite your lip to stop from crying out as you fully seat yourself in her lap; your pussy stretched full.
“Shhhh just like that babygirl, such a good girl.” Diana whispers and reaches for the small remote she’d tossed on the bed. Clicking a button a small vibration starts against both of you. Diana stifles her own moan and starts to guide you up and down her cock.
“So fucking pretty.” She groans softly and pulls you towards her a bit. Diana brings her lips to yours hungrily, half to taste you and half to quiet both your noises. She uses your slightly shifted hips to her advantage and thrusts up into you slowly; meeting your downward movements with her own in a sensual rhythm. One of Diana’s hands wanders from your waist to your abdomen, and pulls you down so she’s fully seated inside you, and then pushes on your belly.
“You feel how good I fill you up baby? Your pussy is mine.” Diana whispers against your lips before thrusting her tongue back in your mouth. You let out a low whimper, your body tightening with your impending orgasm. The combination of the slow thrusts and vibrations making the pleasure build quickly.
”Cl..close” You whisper into her mouth, your body trembling. You feel her lips curl into a smile, her own breathing coming out in short pants.
“Good.. good, fuck, so good baby. I’m close too” She says in a breathy tone, her thrusts growing more erratic as she approaches her orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill up this pretty pussy so full baby” She groans and you slide down her cock one last time; your pussy spasming around her as your orgasm slams through you. You open your mouth in a silent sob as she starts to move you up and down again, chasing her own high.
“I’m so close baby, fuck you’re such a good girl for me baby, I can’t wait until we finally get home after new years and I can fuck you into the mattress.” Diana speaks through gritted teeth, clearly trying to control her noise. You cover your mouth with one hand, not trusting yourself to keep silent, the only sound in the room is your shared pants, quiet moans and the subtle squeak of the bed.
“Fuck! So good for mommy; I’m gonna fill you up so good, fuck, so breedable for me, a perfect little cumslut. Fuck you’re so good, take me so good” Diana groans, her words hardly making sense as she babbles in pleasure, her body stiffening then shuddering under you as she climaxes. After a long while of breathing in unison, she helps you roll off her, your cum dripping out as you do. She pitches forward, collapsing on your chest then rolling over and pulling you into her arms; both of you slick with a light sheen of sweat. Diana smiles up at you, a genuine grin showing her dimple.
“I don’t think I want to be done with you yet baby, you’ve been so good and quiet for me, can you go a little longer?” She mumbles, and buries her head in the valley between your breasts.
“C..clean up?” You whisper back and pull her head away to look at her in question.
“I’m going lay back, and you’re going on all fours, I’m going to eat your sweet cunt while you clean me up too.” Your eyes flutter shut as you picture it.
“Oh fuck, Diana.” You whimper softly, and she lays on her back, lifting her head to grin at you.
“Come here.” Diana says in a soft but demanding tone. You obey immediately, turning and climbing over her, backing until your hips hover over her eager face, your own above her cunt.
“You have the prettiest pussy” She groans quietly and blows a breath on your sensitive folds. Your legs wobble and you sink your head between her open thighs to stabilize yourself. Diana follows your actions, burying her face in your cunt, sucking hungrily at your dripping entrance. Her strong hands hold you open as she devours you. Wanting to match her hunger you thrust your tongue in her core, twisting and curling to tease her inner walls. Her hips buck to meet your face and she moans against your cunt. Both of you were already sensitive from your orgasms, and it wouldn’t take much to send either of you over the edge. You brace your hands on her strong thighs, keeping her legs pushed open. Changing to sucking you move up her folds to her clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves into your mouth and flicking your tongue.
“I’m not gonna last much longer baby.” She rasps, lapping at your core, her hips grind against your face as her orgasm approaches. You continue your gentle sucking and lapping at her, wanting to send her over the edge but not make her over sensitive. Diana seems to have no issue with making you cum to the point of pain, her mouth and tongue moving furiously, all the way from your clit to your sensitive asshole.
“Oh my fucking god, oh fuck mommy I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” You start to cry out but stifle your moans in her pussy, suckling at her core as she arches off the bed under you, her pussy spasming around your tongue as you continue to lap at her, cleaning her up once more. Your own core throbbing as you cum, your body trembling above. Diana mirrors your actions, licking your cunt clean once more before pulling away.
“E..enough baby, come here.” She says, her voice gruff from her release. You swing your leg over her and turn around, the whole process slightly awkward as your body recovers from your back to back orgasms. As soon as you’re close enough, Diana gathers you in her arms; pressing a kiss in your hair as she holds you against her chest.
“You’re so fucking amazing baby” She says in a sleepy tone, and you wiggle to pull the covers over both of you.
“You’re so fucking amazing too” You reply in an equally sleepy tone. Diana pulls away and tugs her sports bra over her head, finally completely naked. Immediately you shove your head between her tits, kissing roughly at the slightly sweaty skin. She inhales sharply as you do.
“Such a greedy little thing, now go to bed baby; don’t wanna end up on the naughty list on Christmas Eve.” Diana teases and nuzzles her face in your hair. You fall asleep like that, listening to the steady beat of her heart, her breath ghosting across your skin.
“I don’t understand why we had to stay with your family until New Years” Diana mutters turning to look down at you as she snacked on yet another plain cracker. Your family had tried to include her, deciding after a while that they did like her despite the age gap. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to know the difference between vegan and vegetarian; proudly showing the meatless charcuterie board before the party, of course it was still covered in cheese and honey. You started to explain, but Diana had stopped you, thanking your father for being so thoughtful. It filled you with joy to see Diana put in so much effort for your family; you were used to her not giving a fuck what people thought so it was both endearing and a bit jarring to see her try so hard.
“Well mom misses me, I’m her baby girl and dad loves having the family all under one roof even if he doesn’t show it.” You say and heap cheese onto your own hors d’oeuvres plate. She was right, it had been a long week, while you loved your family it was a difficult dynamic. They treated you like the kid coming home for the holidays, meanwhile they treated Diana as a peer. It shouldn’t bother you, you were their kid, of course they were still going to treat you like a child. Still you couldn’t wait until New Year’s Day when you and Diana could finally leave and start the drive back to Phoenix.
“If your cousin starts listing NBA players and asking if I could beat them again I think I’m going to cuss someone out.” She complains and takes a long sip of her Cabernet.
“He, uh, means well? I think he just doesn’t know anything about women’s basketball and is trying to talk to you.” You pick up a cracker, stacking a slice of cheese on top then dipping it into the honey.
“The charcuterie board was a nice gesture, I’ll, uh, explain later the difference between vegetarian and vegan later.”
“I mean, the thought would count a lot more if there were more things for me to actually eat.” Diana bends down to whisper in your ear, her tone a half teasing grumble.
“I swear to god, your mother even put butter on the fucking vegetables.”
“Duh, how else would you make them good? I know you’re limited, but I made the candied yams, mashed potatoes and sugar cookies for you; but I uh, didn’t tell anyone I changed the recipes to be vegan.” You pop the cheese covered cracker into your mouth and she raises her eyebrows.
“When did you do that?” Diana asks, sipping her wine.
“While you were being forced to play basketball with all the men today.” You say, rolling your eyes; of course your family members had gone home and googled Diana, returning for new years celebration with a host of new questions and of course bringing basketballs. She’d spent the better part of today trying to fix your little cousin's jump shot.
“God that was exhausting, I’d rather run laps” She mutters and finishes her wine, sitting it the empty glass back on the kitchen counter.
“So now we’ve done the polite snacking with your close family; we have to have an actual New Year’s party with who?”
“Well uh with everyone else so all the relatives and friends; that’s when we’ll have the real food.” You glance up at the clock.“About an hour before everyone arrives, I should go get ready.” You motion down to your casual jeans and flannel. Then to her sweatpants and tee shirt.
“I guess you want me to change too?” Diana groans and straightens from her lean against the counter.
“If you could wear a nice button down and trousers maybe? I’m going to wear the black sweater dress I got the other day.” You say before shoving the last of your cheese cracker in your mouth. Diana grabs your empty plate and her wine glass and places them in the sink.
“Fine, fine. I think I have a white shirt I can wear.” She complains, and follows you up the stairs to your room.
“Quit acting like no ones ever done your makeup before.” You scold and grip Diana’s head in one of your hands, turning her back to face you.
“Yes I have, I’ve been having my makeup done since before you were even born babygirl, but no one was this fucking rough!” She complains and you roll your eyes, shifting in her lap a little, her hands come up to rest on your waist, stroking absent circles with her thumbs.
“I could have done my own makeup you know, I am capable of concealer and mascara.” She teases and you huff.
“I wanted to try winged eyeliner on you but every time I get the pen even near your eye you flinch like I’m holding a knife!” You grip the top of her head and use your finger to pull her eyebrow up.
“Yeah all the pros do it just like this.” Diana snorts and you smack the top of her head gently.
“Be still, I'm concentrating; and stop. talking.” You chide and start to draw a small wing with your eyeliner. She sighs but doesn’t move. Satisfied with the first eye you sit back and look at her.
“Fuck Dee, you look incredible.” You say reverently, and she grins, batting her lashes at her teasingly.
“I feel like the eyeliner is probably getting lost in my crows feet” She tries to turn and look in the desk mirror but you stop her.
“Oh hush, and close your eyes, I need to do the other one.” You repeat your actions, giving her nearly perfect small wings and tight lining her eyes, making their caramel hue pop. You kiss her nose, leaning forward and she wrinkles it.
“You look beautiful.” You whisper in her ear and kiss right below her ear. Diana shivers and squeezes your waist.
“Stop teasing baby, you know I don’t have enough time to fuck you before the party… and.. thank you.” She responds and shifts in her seat to get up, helping you crawl off her. Diana takes mascara out of a tiny makeup bag and crouches to look in the small desk mirror, pausing a moment when she sees her eyes.
“The eyeliner is nice, baby” She somewhat roughly drags the mascara wand through her lashes, miraculously getting none on her skin. You squish in next to her to apply your lipstick, a red lip stain that was supposedly everything proof. Diana pulls away and looks you up and down, red heels and a black sparkly dress, the picture of New Year’s Eve. She matched you in a black button down and black slacks, paired with some ‘classy’ Nikes. You blushed under her rapt gaze and she smiled before holding a hand out to you. Taking it, the two of you walk down the stairs to meet with the rest of your family for a late dinner.
You rested your head on Diana’s shoulder, the champagne causing a fuzzy feeling in your brain as you watched the countdown on the TV. Two minutes until midnight. You pick your head up and look at her.
“Come on the deck with me real quick, I want to talk to you about something.” You say in a hushed tone; Diana knits her eyebrows in puzzlement but stands up after you. She slides the deck door closed before speaking.
“What’s up? What’s wrong?” She asks and takes a step closer to you, her hands resting on your forearms as she looks down at you.
“Nothings wrong Dee, if.. if you remember a few days ago you said if you found the coin in your cake I had to move in with you?” You say and look up at her; her brown eyes search yours before speaking.
“I wasn’t really going to make you if you’re so against it.” Her words are soft, her vulnerability peaking through.
“No, no.”
“Damn you could be nicer about it.”
“No, I mean yes.”
“Are you moving in with me or not?” Diana finally clarifies.
“That’s what I’m trying to say; yes, I want to move in with you. I can figure out breaking my lease when we get back” Diana pulls you into her arms happily, peppering your hair and face in kisses. She opens to speak. but gets cut off by the loud cheering inside the house and the sound of distant fireworks.
“Happy new years, baby, I love you.” Diana says in a soft tone, bringing her lips to yours in a gentle kiss full of feeling. You pull her down closer, deepening the kiss to pour your passion into it. Finally you pull away breathlessly.
“I love you too.” You respond and rest your forehead against hers.
“Honey champagne!” Calls your mother from the doorway and you both turn to look at her.
“Oh” she says and you turn to look at Diana; smeared across her face is your ‘smudge proof’ lipstick and you’re sure you look worse.
“Thanks we will take some champagne.” Diana plucks the two glasses from her hands and passes one to you. She clinks her glass against yours, deciding to ignore your scandalized mother.
“To new beginnings in a new year baby”
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anassemblageofpassions · 3 days ago
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I think what really fucking gets me how is how a lot of yall don’t even TRY to consider who Elphaba is outside of her relationship to Glinda.
Because like. You don’t have to ship fiyeraba. But to not even consider how important he is to Elphaba, what he means to her and how important it is that he loves her and she loves him. To bemoan how Elphaba and glinda don’t end up together while somehow not getting that glinda treated Elphaba like garbage so of course she wasn’t going to end up with her. Note how Fiyero and elphaba are the only couple in the show to not be saying they “deserve each other” because they’re the only ones that actually DO. You’re allowed to have preferences but to say that Fiyero is irrelevant and to deny his love for elphaba is just. Wrong. Fiyero drives a lot of act two and for a good reason. Fiyero is a foil to glinda because he was willing to do for Elphaba what she wasn’t, and she suffers for that forever.
Obviously he’s not perfect in this situation. But what he did to glinda did not warrant the disgusting response she gave, to try to help them kidnap Elphaba by hitting her where it hurts. Glinda signed nessas death warrant and she signed fiyeros and Elphaba’s too, and she knows it. She knows that it’s all her fault, and that’s why she can’t end up with elphaba. Because she has to fix the mess she aided and abetted, and the only thing that would motivate her to do that was the deaths of the two people she loves the most. She didn’t intend for any of this. But actions matter. And that’s the tragedy of it all and that’s what makes her such a well written character, that’s what makes all of them so well written. Fiyero does suffer from the breakneck pace of the musical, but the substance of him is there. I think it does a disservice to glindas character to rob her of her autonomy and try to eliminate everyone else important to elphabas significance in the story, particularly Fiyeros. This is elphabas story. Fiyero is there for a reason, because she needs something good. She needs someone who is willing to give up everything for her the way she is willing to give up everything for everyone.
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astronicht · 1 day ago
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if you’re looking for prompts i would LOVE some outside pov on rosquez if any era 💜
In my heart and dick I wanted this to be Dani or Dovi pov from earlier in the rosquez saga, but I’m just not era-informed enough. Instead, I have yet again put Marco Bezzecchi in unfair situations. Also this isn’t even REALLY to the prompt, because outside pov is fun when it’s subtle, and this is about as subtle as a chair to the face. Whatever I tried!!
It’s Pecco’s personal motorhome, Ducati red. Rain is loud on the roof. Far off, road bikes rev among the tents and tarps where the fans are camped in the mud of Mugello. Marco still smells like damp leathers from practice. Pecco had said, “Ah shit, they’re calling me in early. I’ll see you later, let yourself out.” Pecco wants to win at Mugello. So does Marco, obviously, but he deals with it differently, packed down and nervous in his stomach until he gets on the bike and finds out if it’s good nervous or bad. 
So Pecco had left. And Marco had nodded and grunted and finished watching the show on Pecco’s ipad, because that was what they'd agreed to do, and then went and pissed in Pecco’s bathroom. He washes his hands. He dries them. The door — not the bathroom door, the exterior door — pushes open. The roar of rain and street bikes and generators rushes in, and stumbling footsteps, wet shoes squeaking on the metal steps.
Marco thinks, maybe an assistant. Maybe Pecco back early.
But no: Outside the bathroom door, Vale’s voice says, “Oh, I found it.” Pecco's front door shuts, and in the ensuing quiet is the clink of keys. Vale has keys to everything, because people just give them to him. You learn that early on at VR.
A laugh, not Vale's. Marco has paused at the door handle. It will be a little awkward if he opens it now, but fine. The more seconds tick by, the weirder it gets. He could flush again. He could run the sink.
Another laugh, smothered. Like by a mouth. That is not Valentino laughing. Marco’s palms are sweating.
“No, here,” says Vale. “Here is fine.”
“No, no, whose is this?”
Marco has rarely heard Marc Marquez speak Italian. He is doing it now, fluent and easy. But with a gasp on the end.
Something inaudible from Vale, who is not worrying about pronouncing his Italian. Marco’s palm is slick on the door handle. He’s trying to remember, heart pounding, if he unlocked it already.
“Oh,” says Marc Marquez, who is laughing again. “He’ll be half an hour, then. It’s his turn for the Mugello speech.”
“The Mugello speech?” Vale asks, amused.
“Gigi’s don’t die for glory in Mugello speech.”
Vale makes a 'hm' noise. It is no longer amused.
The slick sound of kissing is loud over the rain. It is personal. It is something you're only supposed to hear at a party, when you are too drunk to care what the people behind you on the bed are doing, unless they-- unless they say-- or touch your shoulder. Marco tries not to breathe loud. He is afraid to take his hand off the door.
In Spanish now— “Wait, wait, I can—”
A belt buckle clinks. Marco knows it’s Vale’s, and that that’s Vale’s zipper going down, fast and fumbling. He wouldn’t have thought it would be fast and fumbling.
Someone’s knees hit the floor. The picture floats up in Marco’s mind, unbidden, unwanted. He has to part his mouth so he doesn’t breathe too fast and loud through his nose.
Then Marc Marquez whispers, quiet and strained, “Fuck, Valenino, fuck—”
Vale’s belt clinks, desperate and fast.
A wet noise. Vale says something like ‘hm’ again, but it is very clear that he says it with something in his mouth.
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jetii · 1 day ago
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life update:
So long story short, I am no longer engaged. No drama, no hard feelings about it mostly, just two people who grew a ton together and grew apart over eight years. I wish I could blame it on something just to make myself feel better or have something to fix, but that’s just not the reality unfortunately, and I think I started to accept that a long while ago. We’re still best friends, we still love and support each other, just differently now.
This has obviously thrown my life into a bit of turmoil now on top of the whole burnout and depression thing. I don’t have much of a support system, I’m hours away from any family and don’t have a great relationship with them, and I’m still processing what exactly I’m going to do now.
The one thing I do know is that being on here and writing again has been the biggest highlight of my life in a long time. I somehow reached 750 followers the other day, and I’m so grateful for every one and the support and encouragement you’ve given me over the last sixish months. It’s given me the confidence to pursue my dream of writing professionally, or at least try to make a living doing something less soul crushing than slogging through life in corporate america until I perish.
I guess this year is time to change things in my life for the better. I don’t expect to do anything different on here, I still have a lot of things in the works, and I’ve even finished a few EH chapters over the last few days that I’m excited to share. Just thinking about life differently, and maybe trying to take care of myself better than I have been so I can stand on my own.
Idk how to finish this other than to say thanks. Thanks for being here, thanks for sharing your creativity and passion, thanks for seeing me. I hope next year treats you well. 💙
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autisticlenaluthor · 2 days ago
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we could meet again somewhere (somewhere far away from here) - chapter 3
“Roar!” 
Sam looks away from the stove and smiles at the sight in front of her. Lena’s in her chair with her pink blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The dinosaur hood is covering her head and she’s got her hands up and bent to fit the pink claws.
For a second, she tries to hold her expression- something between a growl and a glare- but when Sam looks at her, she collapses into a fit of giggles. 
“You’re a very cute dinosaur,” Sam says. “But… are you a good dinosaur or a scary dinosaur? Because I don’t know if I can trust a scary dinosaur in the kitchen.” 
“I’m a good dinosaur,” Lena responds with a grin. “But– did you know that dinosaurs didn’t actually roar? There’s not any evidence to show that they did, and a lot of scientists think they would’ve made closed-mouthed noises. So it would’ve sounded more like a grumble. Or a coo, like what birds do.” 
“I um…” Sam hesitates. “I didn’t know that.” 
“Yeah, most people don’t. They think they roared ‘cause that’s what the movies show. It’s good for building tension and it seems realistic– but none of the reptiles that came from dinosaurs roar. So like, it should be common sense that dinosaurs wouldn’t either.” Lena pauses for a moment, then adds, “But I like to roar ‘cause it’s fun.” 
Sam nods. She flips the pancake she’s been working on– now mostly burnt from listening to Lena’s ramblings– and glances back at the little girl. 
“Do you want chocolate chips or blueberries?” 
Lena wrinkles her nose. “Chocolate, obviously.” 
Read the rest on ao3!
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ginnyw-potter · 13 hours ago
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Drunk Ginny's not so secret desires
Ginny could consume a reasonable amount of alcohol before she got drunk, at least if you took into consideration her complete body mass. Considering her short stature, it wasn’t all that much-—she was a bit lightweight. Something she was in denial of, and Harry was completely aware of.
She got combative with random people when she was drunk enough but if he was near, she was pretty docile and snuggly. So the safest thing for him to do was to stay in the booth with her and let her cuddle into his side while he watched his even drunker friends dance and spill beer over themselves.
“I want to have your babies.”
Harry’s gaze snapped down. “What?” he asked, not sure if he had heard her correctly.
“Your babies, Harry,” she said, slipping her hand over his chest.
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “What about your career?”
“I can do both,” she let out a very indignant tipsy huff. “Obviously.”
He chuckled. “Right. I’m sorry for questioning your capabilities.”
“We’d make cute babies,” she continued. “They’d have your brave heart and my...” She looked down at herself.
Harry waited to see what she was going to pick.
“My great hair.”
He squeezed her closer. “That’d be lovely.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice, Harry?” she said. “You’d be part of a family, with me. I’d look cute pregnant.” She whispered excitedly. “We could have a whole bunch of them!”
He set his coke down and sat up, holding her to him. “I’m taking you home.”
She got up with him. “To make babies?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. He pulled his leather jacket off the hook and wrapped it around her shoulders. “You’re on the potion.”
Her expression froze. “Oh.”
“We could practice though.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “That’s very important,” she said with a tone of severity.
“Indeed.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Hermione appeared, smiling. “You’re going?”
“I’ve got to take her home,” Harry said, ignoring Ginny’s tugging on his hand.
She nodded excitedly. “We’re going to make babies.”
Hermione’s amused gaze slipped from him to her.
“That’s why,” Harry deadpanned.
Hermione laughed. “Yeah, don’t want to let her running loose like that.”
“Precisely,” Harry said with a chuckle, letting Ginny pull him towards the door.
“Oh, and Harry?” Hermione called his attention for another moment.
He turned towards her. “Yeah?”
“Don’t make any babies.”
Ginny popped her head out from behind his back. “Can’t make any promises.”
Harry shook his head. “She’s joking.”
Hermione bit back her smile. “I don’t think she is.”
“That’s the worrying part,” Harry said with a smile. He turned back to Ginny. “Come on, you.”
He waved once again as he let Ginny pull him out of the pub. He apparated them home and kicked off his shoes.
Ginny came up to him and wrapped her arms around him, her hands sensually running down his back.
“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “I know you can handle me.”
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cardboardheartss · 1 day ago
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PICK-A-HANNI : How Would You Spend New Years Eve With Your Bias?🦭
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🦭Hanni #1 : 10oS rx, WoF • Resisting rx, Karma, Time rx
Hanni #1’s! I’m getting a feeling that your bias may force you to spend some time with them! They probably know that you went through A LOT in 2024, and they genuinely feel bad for you. So… they will drag you out, and obviously you’ll be very hesitant and sulking about the whole outing. Your bias will be lucky enough to have you stay out for an hour or two, but I see you eventually leaving and going back into self-isolation.
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🦭Hanni #2 : Judgement rx, PoS rx, 4oS, 8oP • Past Life rx, Longing rx, Beauty
Ugh! Hanni #2’s!! Your bias is literally so sweet!! Orr maybe you’re the sweet person they have around!! Both of you guys will most definitely have a sleepover! You’ll just be scrolling through social media, laughing your assess off! This connection/ time spent won’t be forced at all and this will be genuine and meaningful time spent with your bias! Expect to take a million selfies or even film your own vlogs and mukbangs.
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🦭Hanni #3 : PoC rx • Breaking Point rx, Silence, Elusive rx
Oh! Umm! Apologies Hanni #3’s! I don’t see you spending any time with your bias during New Year’s Eve. Sorry guys!
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🦭Hanni #4 : The World, KNoC, 2oP, The Emperor, 8oC rx, 10oP rx • Healing, Bitterness, Influences, Cloudy Judgement, Ecstasy
Hmm! Hanni #4’s! I see your bias is most likely a male idol/celeb. I don’t want to feed any delusions today, but I forfeit! You and your bias, are definitely a couple, an interracial couple to be exact! I see your bias had to pick between 2 people, and they chose you. Unfortunately, I do see them trying to let you meet their family but the family will not approve of you! This will make you quite sad, but your bias will cheer you up and take you to a club and get all turnt up! Probably do some drugs too!!
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🦭Hanni #5 : 5oP, QoW, Death rx, 2oS rx, 9oW, 5oS • Apology, Spying rx, Running rx, Conflicted
Hanni #5’s!! You and your bias are so wild lol! One of you are either financially struggling or living your best lives, or you yourself could portray yourself as rich but in reality you’re not rich at all! You two will meet and will not hide your meet up. The public will see you two together, partying and expect people to post you on social media. I also feel as if, your bias is a male idol/celeb and this will obviously lead to controversy. The public will be attacking you Hanni #5’s, and I see you being forced to release a public apology.
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🦭Hanni #6 : KoC rx, 7oS, Strength rx, 3oS, KNoS rx • Distracted, Return rx, Soulmate, Broken
Oh! Hanni #6’s! I also see you guys not not spending any time with your bias during New Year’s Eve! You two are in an already established relationship, but i see you could’ve broken up before new years. It’s possible you’ll come across their social medias, possibly a burner account and you’ll see him living his best life, and all turnt up with other girls. At that moment you’ll be overwhelmed by so many emotions, you’ll be angry, sad, devastated and like really really pissed off all at the same time.
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Welp!! This was my gift from me to you all on this blog! Thank you all for the overwhelming and undying support! Thank you for all the asks, the interactions and just your overall presence! My year’s highlight HAS to be you guys!! You all have kept me up on my feet, gave me my first self earned money?? Like how insane is that???
So thank you! thank you guys! i love and appreciate you all! Happy New Years Eve (time zone differences lol), i will try to be as active next year but it’s my final year of high school so… i need to be focused on my books!!! So… I’ll try keep you guys posted!
Love y’all’s!!🎆♾️📦
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princessofgotham777 · 1 day ago
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Dating Jason Todd (Part Eleven)
fanfic type: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort (ongoing)
If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!
Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)
So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.
Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, talking about struggles of being over sexualized
Part Eleven: I miss you; you
You hurried past everyone and went upstairs.
“Where was she?” Thea asks.
Dick talks in a hushed tone and says, “she was sleeping in the grass by Jason’s grave. She said she was going to Chicago alone but I got her to let me come with so I can keep an eye on her.” Everyone is speechless except for Thea.
“Right so that’s insane,” she says as she walked past Dick and heads upstairs to Jason’s room.
“Y/N?” Thea says. She walks in on you packing a bag. You’ve already changed into skinny jeans, a tank top, and Jason’s leather jacket.
“Yeah?” You ask her. She walks up to you.
“Hey listen I know you’re hurting but you can’t push us away, you can’t push me away,” she says.
“I’m not pushing you away, I just can’t be in Gotham right now,” you say.
“So you asked Dick to go with you?” She says.
“I know it looks weird trust me…but if you went with me you’d make me feel better, I don’t want to feel better. Jason’s dead and he’s never coming back and I just want to be miserable in peace and Dick will let me do that,” you say. “Also if joker or another psycho pops up Dick will protect me,” you add. Thea stays quiet for a minute. “I know it doesn’t make sense,” you say.
“No…it does. I get the whole wanting to be miserable after someone you loves dies because I know that it is miserable and painful. When you need me I’ll be there okay?” She says.
“Okay,” you say.
“And I know this is shitty of me to say but as your best friend I just have to say don’t do anything…stupid,” she says.
“I would never…” you start to say but Thea cuts you off.
“I know…I just had to say it,” she says.
“I won’t, I promise,” you say. You know she means she doesn’t want you to lean on Dick too much, it is a shitty thing to say but you know she is valid for saying it. You’re a big believer in the hard truth so you appreciate Thea’s honesty.
You put your pink Chicago hat on and head downstairs to wait for Dick. While you’re waiting for him Rachel finds you.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hi Rachel,” you say. She looks as though she wants to say something but is staying quiet. “Hey I just want you to know, these past few days I know I’ve been distant from you and it’s not that you’ve done something wrong or anything, it’s just…seeing you and talking with you reminds me of when I was a Titan and it reminds me of Jason.”
“Oh…” she says. “I was wondering but obviously I didn’t wanna push, I just haven’t talked with you much, like you said, and I just wanted to check in. I’m worried about you especially since now you’re heading to Chicago with Dick of all people,” she says.
“Why’s it weird I’m going with Dick?” You ask her trying to figure out how much she knows. To your knowledge only Jason, Bruce, and Thea know about your past with Dick.
“When I first met you guys, I asked you if anything ever happened between you and Dick and you said no, I guess you forgot I had a thing for knowing when people are lying,” she says. Your eyes go wide, Rachel knew the whole time. Every awkard look between you and Dick, every time you pulled him aside or was unusually bitter or gentle towards him; she knew about it all.
“You never said anything?” You say.
“I figured you two kept it a secret for a reason, then you told me you were falling for Jason and that was a shock but not a lie so I just left it alone. Dick doesn’t know that I know by the way,” she says.
“Does Gar or Kori know?” You ask.
“I don’t think Gar does, Kori has her suspicions, I know Donna knows though,” she says.
“Oh,” you say. “Do you still have the ability to notice lies?” You ask her.
“No unfortunately,” she says. “Why?” Before you can answer you see Dick walking towards you two.
“Ready?” He asks.
“Yep,” you say.
“I’ll bring the car around,” he says. “See you soon Rachel,”
“Bye,” Rachel says to him. “Wait so why ask about the lying thing?”
“No reason,” you say. “Just wondering.” You hug her goodbye and go get in the passenger seat of Dick’s silver Porsche. You didn’t want to tell Rachel the real reason is because you wanted to know for sure if subconsciously you felt anything for Dick. As Dick drove through the dark streets of Gotham you began to cry silently. This went on for about twenty minutes and then you started coughing.
“You okay?” He asks absentmindedly. You involuntarily start crying loudly.
“Shit…I’m sorry…sorry,” you say wiping your tears.
“Hey it’s okay,” Dick says.
“It’s not, just keep driving this is why I asked you to come with me…so I can just cry in peace,” you say.
You and Dick get to the old safe house in Chicago a couple hours later. You crash there and the next morning he finds you lying on the couch just staring at the ceiling.
“Morning,” he says as he makes coffee.
“Rachel knows by the way,” you say.
“Knows what?” He says.
“About our past,” you say.
“Oh…I always kinda figured she did,” he says.
“You didn’t think to tell me?” you say sitting up.
“She never actually said anything to me,” he says.
“Oh and Donna knows too?” You say.
“Okay Donna I did tell,” he says.
“Course you fucking did,” you say.
“Hey you and Donna used to be close,” he says.
“Yeah well that was a long time ago,” you say.
“It wasn’t but you keep telling yourself that,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You say angrily.
“Nothing,” he says as he sips his coffee.
“What do you mean?” You repeat.
He sighs, “when you and Jason left Gar, Rachel, Kori and Donna were honestly pissed you stopped coming around as much,” he says.
“Do you think I wanted to leave, I helped you make that team,” you say.
“Then why did you…no one made you follow Jason like a lost dog,” he says. You freeze in shock of how harsh he was being.
You smirk and say, “you sound like your old self Dick.”
“Yeah well that tends to happen when I’m around you,” he says.
“I didn’t follow Jason, I left because of how they treated him, because of how you treated him,” you say.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“That’s not good enough,” you say. “Meet me in fifteen minutes, we’re going to that o little shop by the park.”
“Where you got your hat?” He asks.
“That’s the one,” you say.
You and Dick walk through the streets of Chicago. You can’t help but have flashbacks to the beginning of your time as a titan. It was in this city you finally discovered Jason was the second Robin. You and Rachel’s friendship started here. Your and Dick’s friendship ended here when your meaningless romance finally crashed and burned. These streets held so many moments from the past; the most painful ones though were the ones with Jason; because you know he’s never coming back.
Dick and you sit on a park bench that overlooks a duck pond. Behind you is the shop you got your pink Chicago hat from.
“This is where I found out Jason was Robin and where Rachel and I became friends,” you say. “It’s also where Jason bought me this hat,” you say. “The four of us were on the run from those crazy cult people and he thought it would help me hide.” Dick is quiet for a minute.
“I bought you the hat,” he say plainly.
“What?” You say.
“I was the one who bought you the hat, not Jason,” he says. Your speechless. “I know you hate me now but just remember once upon a time I cared about you, and you cared about me. Once upon a time we were friends,” he says. Tears begin escaping your eyes. You don’t even know what to say. “I know you hate me now but just know I think about you all the time. I think about before everything got so fucked up between us,” he says as a tear falls from his eye.
“I could never hate you Dick,” you say softly as you reach over to him. You look deep into his eyes searching for permission to touch his face. When he doesn’t brush your hand away you gently flick the tear from his skin. You snap out of it and rub your eyes. “Come on,” you say to him. You begin crossing the street and he follows you. You two walk back to the safe house in silence. More silence follows throughout the rest of the day. You two see eachother in the kitchen every couple of hours but don’t say anything. Sometimes one of you looks as though you’re going to say something but then they just turn away. Seeing him so broken is killing you. You thought bringing Dick with you would be a good idea, that he would simply allow you to be miserable. Your plan had clearly failed; all bringing Dick did was add to your list of reasons to cry. You lay on top of the covers in one of the bedrooms. You had changed to pjs which consisted of a pair of Jason’s sweatpants which were very oversized on you, and a light blue tank top. You were about to go try to find Dick when your phone rang. To your suprise it was Gar.
“Is everything okay?” You say answering the phone.
“Yeah I just…wanted to check up on you,” Gar says awkwardly.
“I’m as good as I can be and ps you’re a bad liar,” you say.
“What do you mean?” He says.
“Checking up on me? Gar why are you really calling?” You ask.
“I had a dream…about Jason,” he says.
“Oh?” You say.
“In the dream, he was just a regular guy, not Robin, and him and I were friends still and we were just at a record shop talking normally,” he says.
“That doesn’t sound bad?” You say confused.
“Exactly it just made me think what his life could’ve been like if he were never Robin, if he never worked with Batman and joined the titans,” Gar says.
“I’ve thought about that too,” you say.
“You have?” He says.
“Course, he always said being Robin was the best thing that ever happened to him,” you say.
“Until he met you,” Gar says. You smile for a moment but then a look of sadness returns to your face.
“Listen it’s pretty late I hate to hang up but just know you’re completely valid for wondering what could’ve happened,” you say.
“Don’t worry about it, thank you. I hope you can get some sleep,” he says.
“You too, bye Gar,” you say as you hang up.
You head into the kitchen and find Dick writing in a journal. He looks up at you for a moment then back down at his writing. You debate saying something but instead you walk past him to the stairs to the roof. It takes him a moment to register where you’re going but once he did he quickly goes after you.
In the stairwell he says, “please tell me your not gonna try to jump.”
“I’m not planning on it,” you say as you open the door to the roof. You and him stand there in your pajamas on the roof surrounded in the darkness of night. “I just needed some fresh air,” you say.
“You’ve got something against opening windows?” He says jokingly. You don’t laugh you simply look at him with sadness.
“What the hell happened to us,” you say.
Dick is quick to respond, “you and Jason clearly-“ he begins to say before you cut him off.
“No I mean what happened to you and i,” you say.
“Y/N,” Dick says.
“No just let me…just let me say this,” you say. “I’m sorry.”
“Y/N, you don’t need to apologize,” he says interrupting you.
“Dick for once in your life can you just let me talk without being interrupted please,” you say. “I’m sorry I treat you so horribly.” He looks visibly confused. “I know I snap at you and hold things against you and I know I expect too much of you and I’m sorry. You accepted me for who I am and saved my life. You allowed me into your world and…and,” you begin to cry. “I just miss our friendship. I never wanted you romantically. I know I said I did but that was only because that’s how I thought you saw me. I was just so used to guys only seeing my body and not my soul that that’s how I thought you saw me, and I didn’t want to lose you so I pretended to have feelings for you.” Dick looks utterly speechless. “I’m so sorry;” you cry.
“I’m sorry too,” he says. “I’m sorry I made you think that’s how I saw you. I only ever saw you as a friend. When you told me you had feelings I figured you also only saw me for my body. You never gave me a reason to think that but it wasn’t hard because of how people treat me,” he says. “I know what it’s like to be seen as a piece of flesh and I need you to know I never thought of you that way,” he says. You continue crying. “I’m sorry our issues got in the way of us being friends.”
“Would you ever consider trying to go back to how things were?” You asked him.
“That’s all I’ve wanted,” he says. He steps towards you and pulls you into a hug. You cry into his shoulder. You two go back inside and sit at the island in the kitchen. You grab two lemonades that are probably years old and slide one over to Dick.
“Okay so now that we’re good I have to ask something,” Dick says.
“Okay?” You say.
“It has to do with Jason, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about him,” he says.
“No it’s okay, I just want to have a normal conversation, no walking on eggshells necessary,” you say.
“Okay, so when you and Jason started dating I assume you told him stuff happened between you and I?” Dick says.
“Yeah,” you say.
“And? How’d he react?” Dick asks.
“Why do you wanna know?” You ask.
“I always wondered what Jason was like under his mask of jokes and recklessness,” Dick says.
“Jason wasn’t reckless.” You say. “Okay you gotta promise none of this stuff about Jason leaves this little roadtrip okay?” You say.
“I promise,” he says. “By the way I think it’s really sweet how you keep your and his relationship so close to your chest. You and him were always so protective over your bond and I never got to tell either of you that I admire that,” Dick says. You smile genuinely.
“Jason wasn’t reckless, anything he ever did like that he did either because he genuinely thought he was capable or because he was trying to prove himself to Bruce or to you or to the titans,” you say.
“Never to you?” He asks.
“Jason didn’t have to prove himself to me with reckless behavior, contrary to popular belief I am not attracted to chaos,” you say.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Dick says with a laugh.
“When I told Jason about you and I, I told him the truth. That the feelings were misunderstood and not communicated well. I never told him anything personal about you but I did tell him about when you saved me; he respected our past because of that,” you say.
“I had no idea, he always acted so standoffish toward me,” Dick says.
“You were his hero and you made him feel weak, like he needed to prove himself. And when he couldn’t do that he snapped at you because he never felt enough for you or Bruce,” you say.
“I know I was too harsh, I was too harsh with you too when you guys were titans,” Dick says. “Do you ever miss it? Being a titan?” Dick asks.
“Gar asked me the same thing the other night,” you say. “Me and Jason talked about it before, rejoining titans. It sounded good till we remembered how everything ended for us at the tower. I didn’t tell Gar this but Jason wakes up…” you correct yourself “he used to wake up screaming…he’d have nightmares about falling off the tower.”
“I’ve had nightmares about him falling too, I just replay him slipping out of my grasp sometimes when I can’t sleep,” Dick says. “I guess Jason and I were more alike than anyone noticed.”
“I noticed, once I found out Jason was Robin I noticed how similar you and him were,” you say.
“Okay confession,” Dick says. “When you told me you had romantic feelings for me I was so fucking scared,” he says laughing.
“Really?” You ask.
“You don’t understand like I thought I was going to throw up out of fear,” he says laughing.
“Why?” You ask laughing.
“I was scared to lose you and I didn’t feel the same way so I convinced myself I did,” he says. “What made you confess your fake romantic feelings anyway?”
“It was something you said,” you say.
“Oh?” He says.
“It was when that creep was stalking me and you made a comment about my body, I was in such a fucked up headspace I assumed you only saw my body and not really me so because I also didn’t want to lose you I acted like I wanted more than friendship,” you say.
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” he says.
“Thanks,” you say.
“No really I’m sorry, I know I already said this but you know I’ve had my fair share of being used for my body, and I’m so sorry I ever made you think that’s how I saw you,” he says.
“It wasn’t you it was just the circumstances, and I promise I never saw you like that either,” you say in a serious tone. You and Dick simply smiled at eachother just enjoying the moment. Things between you two felt right. Of course you were still miserable and full of sadness and rage because of the love of your life died in agony, but at least you revived a friendship.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again,” you say.
“Honestly that’s okay, don’t let any idiots tell you that you need to find someone else. If you do meet someone else great you deserve that but if you don’t that’s okay,” he says.
“Thanks,” you say. “There’s that no fucks given advice I so missed,” you say.
“Right, I missed giving you straightforward advice,” he says.
“I think I’m gonna head to sleep,” you say.
“Same honestly,” he says. You two get up but you freeze for a moment.
“Dick one more thing, at Arkham when we…when we found Jason’s…body. I’m sorry for snapping at you how I did,” you say.
“It’s alright, I can’t even imagine how you felt,” he pauses for a moment. “If you need someone to talk to, just remember I’m always here. No judgement, just like old times.”
“Thanks,” you say.
Hey, this part actually came out a decent length I feel like the others have been kinda short lately. I didn’t like the fact that Dick and Reader had a romance in the past and I also HATE the constant over sexualization of Nightwing so I figured I’d write some platonic angst and also touch on that cause it’s never talked about😭. Anyways if you want to see more parts please like and follow. Any positive feedback is always appreciated, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I’m going to start developing the red hood plot line soon (I know Jason is supposed to be dead for a while but for the purposes of wanting to get to the point I’m probably just going to write he was dead for a few months). I hope you enjoyed the fic!
If you wanted to check out the other parts here’s a link to my Masterlist.
Masterlist
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pshbites · 2 days ago
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800 followers !!
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wow.. typing something like this again. kinda crazy that i hit 700 a couple weeks again and i just hit 800 🥹🥹, tysm guys for all the love and support and im so grateful to have any amount of followers reading and supporting my works. again i just want to say i love seeing yalls feedback on any of my posts so dont be shy to comment/come in my inbox :(( i love talking to yall 🫶 #WeLoveYouSoMuchPshbitesNation
a personal thank u to my lee and mars, honestly i wouldn’t be here without either of them and because of them i truly haven’t left this account yet. thank you so much for our conversations and letting me be my own self with you guys 🥹 i love u @leeechin and @chobunz
obviously to my nunubear, @haedgaf, ily so bad you know this. you don’t even need to say it to me anymore because i’ll say it enough for the both of us. i enjoy our stupid interactions and hearing about your life #NunuNana4eva 😽
and to the rest of my close moots ily guys so so so much, thank u for letting me yap and talk all i want and for listening to my ideas, im glad to have found people who love and support me as well as people i relate so much too so thank you 🩷🩷 @cupidhoons @kiss4noo @coqhee @suneng @flwrstqr @junislqve @ourhees @tzyunaes ily guys so so much 🫶
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interstellar-cluster · 2 days ago
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I’ma fucking traumagenic system who did multiple days and hours of fucking research before diagonosing myself with osdd1b
I know what plural is fuck head
You fucking aren’t
You’re a bitch playing pretend with imaginary friends in your head
Fucking cunt.
wow it’s almost like you create your own problems because the world kept fucking spinning. you’re walking proof that it’s actually you, the sysmeds and anti endos, that come into OUR spaces uninvited and harass US. Not the other way around.
You’re fucking pathetic. Take a good hard look at your life if you really think it’s okay to come to someone’s page and send hateful messages because you’re too fucking ignorant to do a bit of research on what endogenic plurality ACTUALLY is, because fucking surprise, researching OSDD is not researching all of plurality. You are only going to see medical shit.
And I don’t care if people self diagnose but hot take, if you do self diagnose and then you try to tell people that they’re doing plurality wrong, you’re a fucking asshole because you have no professional knowledge. You don’t know anything an actual doctor has told you, only the internet. And wow, a few days and hours? Try fucking years to get an actual BPD diagnosis and then have it misdiagnosed multiple times.
You obviously did fuck all research because you obviously have no idea what ‘plural’ means. Did you research on fucking Mayo Clinic or something? You are taking OUR terms and you are twisting them to your fucked up ideas. You are invading our spaces. You are pushing us out of the community that we are SO important in. Need I remind you that it was actually ENDO systems who pushed for medical professionals to do more research on plurality for YOU fuck heads? You are so fucking ungrateful for my community when we have done NOTHING. But, surely you must’ve researched that in your three days of research, right? 🥺 No you fucking didn’t because a few days of research is not enough to fucking diagnose yourself, let alone have someone else diagnose you.
You are nothing. You’re a weak, pathetic person whose life is so boring you have to armchair diagnose people when you’re not even professionally diagnosed yourself. You are an asshole. Get the fuck off my page. I hope you’re fucking ashamed of yourself.
Aw and they blocked me. How cute. What a fucking pathetic bitch.
And for any lovelies who see this that are self diagnosed with ANYTHING, I love you, you’re valid. It’s just idiots like this who think that it’s okay to tell people that their experiences are wrong ESPECIALLY when they’re self diagnosed, they don’t have any medical knowledge. Only the shit the internet gives you.
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maxdibert · 3 days ago
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There’s a TikToker who generally makes good Harry Potter content. Unfortunately, she’s a dedicated Snape hater and posts anti-Snape videos every few days, often spreading complete nonsense. That’s why I blocked her. But today, I came across a video by a major streaming platform, and it turns out she’s collaborating with them, making Harry Potter videos for their official German account. Naturally, she also uses this opportunity to hate on Snape, reaching an even larger audience in the process. Unfortunately, Snape hate is increasingly being seen as the default opinion. The Snape fandom often gets overshadowed on social media, and we urgently need more Pro-Snape creators who also have the chance to land such collaborations. However, I’m sure that many people who would like to make Pro-Snape content are discouraged by the sheer amount of hate they’d face.
I don’t watch anything from any fandom on TikTok because from any fandom I’ve been in, the stuff that comes up on TikTok is pure crap. I don’t know why the damn algorithm always shows me the most idiotic people on the internet saying absolute nonsense, but it was something that would happen every time I searched for something about a fandom or ship I liked, and in the end, I just decided to prioritize my mental health and not look at anything.
Honestly, I think in recent years there’s been a wave of people who’ve been distorting a lot of the things Severus canonically does in the books and demonizing him. When I first got into the HP fandom, Severus was obviously a controversial character and had his haters like always happens, but even the most hardcore Snaters I met had decent points to defend their dislike for the character, they didn’t come with fallacies or fanon inventions to argue their opinions. And they weren’t so violent or reduced the character to a one-dimensional guy who was just evil, period. I don’t know if the problem is that people are more influenced by the fandom than by the canon these days, or if the new voices just have the analytical ability of an amoeba, but I’m honestly shocked by some of the things I read daily.
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