#that's great and all but PLEASE HIRE A SENSITIVITY READER BECAUSE THIS IS EXHAUSTING FOR EVERYONE AND ALSO ENTIRELY PREVENTABLE.

[the-broken-spear]

Aequorin has made a post addressing the thing:

Transcript below the cut

[Text reads: We want to apologize for the execution and editing decisions we made as a team on the Auraboa story, Ancient Arboriculture Observations. Your critique of the story and that parallels can be drawn to the struggles faced by native nations and the forced assimilation of their children into a western world have been heard. Looking at the story now, we can absolutely see how such parallels were drawn, and are committed to correcting this. We thank you for both reaching out to us, and for your patience while we worked to address these concerns. The Auraboa were and are intended to be dragons with a scifi-alien mindset with an innate mental link and a different perception of time, not a native nation. The original draft for the story had many ideas, context, and characterization that were explicitly stated and then cut out for the sake of word count. The expectation was for the breed article to do the heavy lifting required, but it also wound up insufficient to support the needs of the story and as a standalone article. The fact that the hatchlings were changed but still able to freely move between the Loop and a linear time perception was left implied instead of explicitly stated. Regarding the concerns shared on Auraboan speech, the mental link and the non-linear perception of time meant that speech was an inefficient and alien form of communication for the Auraboa, resulting in stilted speech patterns that we will be evaluating with a critical eye to avoid harmful stereotypes. We appreciate the critique and feedback. We will use this as an opportunity to better our lore and restore much of this original context to make sure we are telling the story and building the world we want and intend to tell. We are also re-evaluating our length limits based on the individual stories we want to tell and the world building we hope for these entries to do. We've been restricting the story lengths to prevent writing ourselves into corners like the Tidelord and the long, long break between Bounty of the Elements and its planned conclusion in Adventure Mode. And like with the Undertide story, the Auraboa story suffered under this artificial limit. This time, this combination lead to us publishing a story that could be read in multiple and harmful ways. We also need to note that in the United States we are entering a holiday weekend and many of our employees will be taking or are already on paid time off. We apologize that a change cannot be effected as immediately as we would like, but will work to improve the story as swiftly as possible (November, ideally.) For today: The Auraboa breed article has been expanded to more fully cover the connection that the Auraboa have in the Loop, duality of the nature of Auraboa hatchlings, and to make clear that the Auraboa born now are not and have not been severed from their connections and family. We will update Site Status again when the short story is updated with the additional context, direction, and ending. We want to thank the community again for your feedback and commitment to bettering the world of Flight Rising. As always, we ask that feedback on topics that touch on real world matters of significance are submitted directly to us through Contact Us.

/end text]

[xxdearlybeloved]

The Tailor

John Shelby x Reader

Summary: You are a tailor in Birmingham who meets the Shelby brothers, then it’s the typical fluff. Based on a request from the prompt list using “You know I have feelings for you”, “Can you two please get a room” , and “Come over here and make me” with John in Peaky Time.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!!!!!!! I hope you like it <3

The dust danced in the sunlight as you sat at the sewing machine, lost in your usual trance. The hum of the machine hypnotized you in a serene way, allowing you to focus on the task at hand while the rest of the world faded away. At the end of it, you were left with a beautiful garment. A gift of your exquisite touch that never left the customer wanting.

You had lived a simple life. Your parents, like their parents, worked as servants. Your grandmother had taught you to sew, so when the opportunity came to perfect your craft you leaped on it. Though you worked in London during the war to make soldier’s uniforms, after the war was over they had no more space for “people of your background”.

So you kissed your mother goodbye, your father having already gone to glory, and took the train to Birmingham.

Mr. Oliver, the short and speckled shop owner, had taken you in graciously. After all of is help had left after the war, he had been struggling to keep his shop running. Soon after you arrived, the business began to grow after word spread of your exquisite skill and Mr. Oliver had to hire another girl just to keep up.  

You couldn’t help but dream of a return to the big city. Having a shop that people traveled to from all over the world seemed like nothing but a fairytale. But fairytales seemed to thrive in Birmingham as you witnessed with the entrance of John Shelby into your life.

You remembered the first time he came into the shop with his brothers. Your heart had went to your throat as you watched the Peaky Blinders walk through the door. It seemed like you weren’t the only one afraid, because the owner immediately went to greet them, shaking each of their hands and letting them know they were more than welcome any time in his “humble shop”.

You had decided that the room had gotten far too crowded and moved to go back to the familiar hum of the machine. That was until you heard your name called.

“My dear, can you assist with the measurements?”, Mr. Oliver had turned to ask you, a little bit of sweat appearing on his brow.

Glancing at the youngest Shelby, you couldn’t hide from your face the slight embarrassment that filled you. Measuring was an... intimate process. You watched the same Shelby’s face break into a smirk as you stuttered out an “Excuse me?” to your boss.

“Could you take down the measurements as I do them? We mustn’t keep the Shelby’s waiting,” he replied over his glasses. The other two took in this scene with nonchalance. Tommy was smoking a cigarette and Arthur had begun to take inventory of the stock, running his hands over different fabrics. But John was still watching you as if this was the funniest thing he had seen all day.

You did as you were told, writing down the numbers are Mr. Oliver called them out, trying to make the numbers legible as he took the measurements as record pace. As Mr. Oliver continued to take the details of their suit preferences, John came over to speak to you.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the seemingly permanent smirk still on his face. “So how’d I do?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How did I measure up?” he asked, playfully. Was John Shelby flirting with you? He probably flirted with every pretty girl he saw, but you couldn’t help but play along.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Shelby, I wouldn’t stay in your good favor if I were to tell you.”

“And why is that?”

“Well I hardly know you,” you said in mock disgust as his brothers called for him.

“Well, how about we fix that?” he asked, standing from the wall and coming closer to you. You don’t remember when the air had turned electric, but suddenly here you were struggling to remember how to breathe. His brothers continued to call him as he looked at you expectantly. You didn’t know what else to do, so you nodded.

He smiled and walked away, turning to give you a last glance before leaving the shop. It seemed like you weren’t the only one out of breath, Mr. Oliver had begun wiping his brow with his handkerchief before coming to you. “We have to finish these quickly, stop everything else you’re doing.”

You breathed a “Yes, Mr. Olivier,” before following him into the back room and resuming your work. Over the next two days, you worked harder than you seemingly had before. Your arms were tired and you just wanted to rest your head on the table, but you knew you needed to finish. The “or else” was strongly implied.  

When it was over, and you took a step back to admire the three perfectly hung suits, you could have slept on the floor from exhaustion. The Shelby’s would send someone to pick up their suits in an hour or so. You volunteered to do the fittings and close up shop, sending an emotionally overwhelmed Mr. Oliver home.  

You waited in the front room, walking around and picking up fabrics before you heard a knock at the door. You opened it slightly to find a John Shelby standing there, stepping out a cigarette. He blew smoke into the night air, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Can I come in?” he asked, giving you a full once over that made your nerves tingle. You stepped aside to let him in, before locking the door. You led him to the back room and watched him admire the suits. “Just as good as they say,” he said, turning to smile at you. “How much?” he asked, pulling out some money to pay you.

“Oh, no need Mr. Shelby. Mr. Oliver said they were on the house.”

John nodded, put his money away and stepped towards you. “You can call me John, love.” You smiled at him, finding your eyes go to his lips before going to meet his eyes again.  

“Okay, John.”

He insisted on walking you home and you let him. He asked about how you ended up in their small town, how long you had been there. He laughed as you told him about Mr. Oliver and your adventures. You were more relaxed with every step. John was showing you a glimpse of the man beneath the gangster and you were pleasantly surprised with what you found there.  

John came to visit you almost every day after. He would bring you lunch, eating with you in the sewing room while Amelia, the other girl who worked at the shop, looked on in muted anger. He would walk you home, your steps short and slow, trying to make the walk last a little bit longer than it had to.  

One night on the way to the Garrison, he was telling you about what characters his kids were and you told him you would love to meet them. He had spoken about them with such love that you couldn’t help but smile at the idea of John as a dad. But as the words left your mouth, you’d wondered if you had overstepped. John hadn’t even tried to kiss you yet, you had no idea what you were to him.  

“I think that would be a great idea,” John smiled at you. He was afraid to scare you away with his past, and he wasn’t really sure what you wanted. Sometimes it felt like a budding friendship, but he saw the way you looked at him and he knew his feelings for you, but he didn’t want to push you further than you wanted to go. He didn’t want to lose you.  

You didn’t know how you ended up drunkenly following John to his house, clumsily being shushed as you made your way up the stairs to his room. You loved the feeling of his warm hand in yours.

The next morning, you woke up half dressed in John’s bed, the sound of children laughing teasing your ears. You had a massive headache and felt disgusting, but weirdly at home. Slowly, you got dressed and checked your appearance in the mirror before making your way downstairs.  

You took in the scene before you, of John plating toast and eggs for his kids who all looked as if they had just woken up themselves. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you said “Good morning” anyway.  

The nerves quickly faded as the children took you in, the youngest climbing into your lap as soon as you sat at the table. The kids were just as hilarious as John described and with each passing minute you found yourself falling more deeply in love with them all.  

The kids ran to go play with the other kids in the neighborhood, and you helped John tidy up the kitchen. It was done in a comfortable silence, neither of you feeling the need to break it. When it was all done, you looked at John in his shirt and lose pants. He was at home, and you felt like you were, too. You couldn’t help but say the words that were on your mind.  

“You know I have feelings for you,” you told John softly with downcast eyes. You were scared to watch how his baby blue eyes would react. You felt him come closer and put his hand on your cheek, tilting your face to look at him.

“Is that right?” he asked, gently stroking your cheek. You rested your face in his hand, loving the warmth and the closeness between you. You nodded into his hand and he leaned in to kiss you.

He kissed you gently, not wanting to scare you away with how much he had wanted to hear you say those words. You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to be closer, letting his hands run down your back and to your thighs, pulling your legs up so he could carry you to the counter.  

He didn’t want to rush anything, but he wanted so badly to taste you. You wanted him, too, but you couldn’t help but acknowledge the creeping fear that he was still a Shelby. You pushed it out of the way, letting yourself be present in this moment with you and John starting to learn each other in new ways.  

You opened yourself up to him, letting your body be his to explore. He touched you softly, watching the your face as he explored your curves, listening to the changes in your breathing. You sighed his name, letting his rough fingertips trace your sensitive areas, feeling yourself getting aroused and wanting him inside you.  

John obliged, filling you with himself right in his kitchen, both of you holding on to each other as you created a chorus of moans and sighs. John gave himself to you and you took all of him, letting him feel safe in your arms.  

You knew that when John proposed marriage, it would be more than the breakfasts with the kids that you were signing up for. He was and always would be a Peaky Blinder, but you wanted him anyway. You believed his promise of forever, and despite the unknown you were excited to start this new chapter with him.

John came into the sewing room, honoring his promise to see you before he left for the races that weekend. He was admiring a dress you had just finished, letting his fingers gently run against the fabric.  

“Can you get your filthy hands off of my dress, sir?”

“Come over here and make me,” John said coyly, watching you stand from your machine and come over to him. You wrapped your arms around him, putting your head against his chest as you listened to his heart beat.

“I love you John, be safe and come back to me,” you said, looking up at him. This would become your parting wish every time your husband went away, and every time he would respond the same.

“Always,” he promised kissing the top of your head.  You were his angel

“Can you two please get a room?” Amelia asked, clearly annoyed.  You both smiled at each other before you kissed him, hoping it would convey how much you missed him already.

He left and you sat back at the machine, giving Amelia an apologetic smile, before losing yourself once again in the trance of your machine, letting it distract you from the fear that came with letting a Peaky Blinder hold your heart.

[kdreamscenario]

Lunatic: Part XV

Mythical! BTS AU

Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 1651

Rated: G

Part XIV

The third week of April brings the end of international touring for the boys.  It’s way past Midnight after their final show in Japan.  Everyone is washing up in their hotel rooms for bed.  Jungkook is already done and waiting for his hair to dry a bit before he sleeps.  He’s tired but looks at the unanswered message you sent him three days ago and figures he better call.  

He waits patiently through three rings and worries that maybe you already went to bed.  It is late but tomorrow is your day off and usually you stay up late.  He’s thinking he should’ve sent you a warning text first but you answer.  

-Hello?

-Hey Y/N.

-Hi Kookie. What’s up?  Good concert tonight?

-Yeah really great.  

-Glad it’s over or nah?

-I’m tired and can’t wait to go home but I’m also sad it’s over.

-Mm.  Well you’ll be out there again soon enough.

-Too true. What about you doing anything fun these days?

-Nope just boring regular me.

-That’s not true.  You went out with your work friend the other night right?

-Oh yeah. I guess I did break my sitting at home streak.

-That’s good.  Sorry I didn’t get back to you.  To answer your question too late I liked the blue dress best.  

You laugh at that because your text had been a last ditch attempt at deciding an outfit.  

-Then you’ll be happy to know I wore the blue one.  

-Our friendship telepathy shines through once again.  

-Or I knew which one you’d pick.  

The both of you laugh.  You know each other’s tastes too well.

-So, how are the boys?  Everyone’s good?

-Yeah. Tired like me but good.  Yoongi’s good too in case you wanted to know.

-I didn’t ask that but thanks I guess.  Glad to know everyone’s alright.

Jungkook doesn’t have to see you to know you’re rolling your eyes.

-I mean it Y/N he’s really doing a lot better.

-I know.  That’s all you ever tell me these days.  I’m not sure why since I thought you were against me knowing about him.  

-Because he’s really a changed man these days.  Like a totally different person.  The full moon this month he didn’t even want one of the escorts and was totally normal.  

-Escorts?

-Yeah didn’t I ever tell you about them?  

-No.

-Sorry. When we go out of long trips during full moon they ship us hired escorts so the hyungs don’t make some international disaster.  

-So hookers?  

You don’t try to hide the disgust in your voice what so ever.  

-Yes like hookers but nice ones.

-Still doesn’t make it sound any better.

-No but you know they can’t help it.  Which is why you should be proud of Yoongi.  I don’t think he’s even looked at a girl in weeks.  

-Pity I was hoping he was suffering a little.

-Why? Because you’re also suffering?

-Am not!

-You don’t have to lie.  I’m sure you haven’t looked at a guy since him either.

You can’t argue with that. The line goes silent for a beat.

-Y/N, listen I understand that you’re still bitter.  In fact I’m glad you are.  I’m glad you didn’t just forgive him but I think it might be time to start.  

You stay quiet.  There’s got to be more for him to convince you.  Jungkook knows that’s what you’re waiting for.

-Yoongi really has changed with this medication.  All he ever does now is work, eat, and sleep.  He always looks exhausted and empty but sort of content in a way?  He says he’s happy with how the medication makes him but it also looks like he’s kind of killing himself slowly.  Anyway that’s not where my point was going.  I’m sure he’d at least like a little closure from your end.  You left him out on a limb saying you didn’t want to see him for a while.  Like did you mean you want to eventually see him?

You take a deep sighing breath to answer.

-Yeah eventually I’d like to talk again.  I can admit that I miss talking to him.  That’s sort of what that birthday text was supposed to fix.

On Yoongi’s birthday two weeks ago you had texted him a simple happy birthday.  It was a kind gesture you hoped would restart a bit of your talking.  He never answered.

-Right the text.  The boy gets a couple million people to say happy birthday to him and that’s really the only thing he cared about I swear.  He doesn’t know we know about it though.  I kind of caught him just staring at it on the plane that night.  

-Why do you think he hasn’t answered me then?  I mean I get it you guys are busy but I could’ve at least gotten a thank you.  

-Maybe he’s just not ready to forgive himself yet?  I don’t know.  We’ve never talked about it.

-I get that.  I’m not a hundred percent ready to forgive him either.  Also I’m a bit scared to ruin things?

-Ruin things how?  They’re already pretty bad?

-Thanks for the bright outlook.  I’m worried about rehurting ourselves.  If Yoongi is as happy as you say he is with how he’s changed then who am I to wedge myself back in.  What if something happens like the time at his house?  What if being near me sets him back again? 

This is the first time for you to voice that concern from a deep wispy thought in the back of your mind.  Jungkook is the only person you trust to not brush away your concerns.  

He takes a minute to really soak in your thought.  

-Yeah that makes sense.  You won’t know unless you try though right?  I say give it the time you both need but don’t be afraid of it either.  I know you’ll hide yourself away if you think you’re troubling him.  

-Of course because I don’t want to be a bother to him.  If he didn’t answer then obviously he’s not ready.

-Maybe if you pester him more with texts he’ll answer.  I know he misses you and eventually he’ll get over the self-wallowing.

-Or he’ll get annoyed with me and think I desperately want him back.  

-So? He desperately wants you back. I doubt he’ll see it as annoying.  

-Ugh. I think this is why you don’t have a girlfriend.

-No I’m just too smart, young, and busy to get into messy stuff like this.  Your problems are enough for me thanks.  

-You’re really no help.  Why do I even ask you?

-Who else would you ask?  You don’t have anyone else.

-Again.  You’re such a great friend.  

-That’s right.  So you’re gonna take my advice and text Yoongi right?

-Maybe one more text.  In like a week when you’re all on break.

-Fine.  I’ll take that for now.  I’ll even make sure he answers you back this time.  

-No! Kookie don’t push him into it.  If he doesn’t want to talk to me then he doesn’t have to.  He will when he’s ready.

-Or he’ll just continue to wallow and sadly wish he deserved to answer.  

-Please Kookie.

-I’ll just drop a subtle hint okay? Like we never even talked about it.  

-I don’t really trust how subtle you’re going to be but I know you’re just gonna do it anyway.

-That’s right!  So good talk Y/N glad we have a plan.  

-Thanks Kookie.  I guess.  

-Welcome.  Now, it’s late and we should both get to bed.  I’ve got a stupid early flight in...oh shit 4 hours.

-You never cease to amaze me really.  Please take some decent care of yourself for once?  For me?

-Sure thing bestie.  Maybe tomorrow night.  Goodnight Y/N.  

-Goodnight Jungkook

 The two of you go to sleep completely unaware of a third person listening in on your conversation.  Yoongi’s room is the one next to Jungkook’s.  Their beds only a thin hotel wall apart.  He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but with his sensitive hearing he couldn’t help but listen to the whole thing.

Yoongi can’t get to sleep after listening to that rollercoaster of information.  First of all, you actually want to talk to him.  You actually miss talking to him.  He’s a little selfishly pleased to know you haven’t been seeing anyone else either.  Honestly he doesn’t deserve such a smart, sweet, angel of a person.  

How could you possibly understand perfectly why he didn’t answer you.  You understand his fear of hurting you and the unknown level of control he’ll have around you.  Of course you’re scared and you should be.  Still you want to try and make things work.  Really he doesn’t deserve you.      

 True to your word you send Yoongi a message about a week later.  

-Hey, heard you’re doing well these days.  Glad to hear it.

Yoongi stares at it for almost 20 minutes.  He’s not ready yet.  By this time he’s just started to consider the surgery and wishes you could wait for an answer.  Jungkook had already heavily hinted that he should talk to you.  Either way it wouldn’t be fair to leave you waiting for months.  

-Thank you.  I really mean that for everything.  Thank you.  I understand that we should talk but I want to ask you if we can wait a bit longer.  I need one more thing to change before I’m reading to fix this.  Please wait for me.  

That couldn’t have sounded more pathetic to Yoongi but right now he needs to grovel at your holy feet.  You’re happy enough to just get a reply though you’re a bit concerned about what he wants to change.  

-I understand Yoongi.  Take your time.  Don’t do anything you’ll regret.  

The last part makes Yoongi stop and thinking over how sure he is.  Will he regret his decision?  Right now he’s not so sure.

-E.최