#we think it’s easy to be kind while into anything

[aventurineswife]

WAIT WE CAN MAKE SUGGESTIVE REQS???? I DIDNT KNOW THAT

ok so like aventurine x reader

and hummmmmmm

bro actually idk

ILL READ ANYTHING WITH AVENTURINE LMAO

“I am yours”

Summary: In the quiet of a shared moment, you and Aventurine find solace in the unspoken connection between you. Though Aventurine’s guarded nature keeps his emotions hidden, his subtle actions speak volumes, conveying a truth he cannot say aloud: even in the waiting, he belongs to you.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Romance, Mutual Understanding, Quiet Intimacy, Found Family Themes.

Warnings: Mentions of Survivor's Guilt, Brief Allusion to Past Trauma, Themes of Emotional Guardedness and Subtle Angst.

A/N: that's what you get for not reading my rules 🧍‍♀️... Also I already wrote a suggestive which was almost discreet smut of Aventurine.. and I had this lying around so have this instead.

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of paper as Aventurine shuffled a deck of cards between his fingers. The precision in his movements was mesmerizing, each card flipping effortlessly into place, as though they were an extension of his will. The air carried the faint scent of his cologne—spiced cedar and a hint of something sweet, like smoke curling from a forgotten ember. He hadn’t spoken in a while, content to let the silence stretch, unbroken but full of meaning.

You watched him from across the room, the dim light casting faint shadows over the sharp lines of his face. His eyes seemed fixed on the cards, but you knew better. Aventurine rarely focused on one thing; his mind was always two steps ahead, weaving possibilities and contingencies, playing a game no one else could see. But tonight, there was no pretense of strategy in the air.

You felt the weight of his attention even when he didn’t look at you, as if his presence reached for you in quiet moments. There was an ease between you, the kind that grew only in the absence of demands. And yet, it wasn’t easy, not really. Being close to Aventurine was always like this—a careful balance, a gamble where the stakes were never entirely clear.

The cards stopped mid-shuffle, and his hands stilled. He leaned back in his chair, his golden rings catching the light as he rubbed the edge of one thumb against the deck. You noticed how his other hand had slipped behind his back, a habit you’d come to recognize in moments of tension.

“Waiting is part of the game,” he once told you. His voice had been light, a teasing lilt that made you smile despite yourself. But it was a truth he lived by—every moment, every pause, calculated with the precision of a master gambler.

Tonight, though, the waiting felt different. Not the cold calculation of a man biding his time but something quieter, softer. His body language betrayed him in small ways—a flex of his fingers, the way his foot tapped once before stilling. You wondered if he was thinking about the words he couldn’t say, the ones he might never find the courage to.

But you didn’t need them.

You shifted closer, your steps slow, deliberate, as though moving too quickly might shatter the fragile stillness. When you stopped beside him, he didn’t look up. Yet, the tilt of his head told you he knew you were there, as he always did. His presence was magnetic, like gravity pulling you into orbit, and you felt that familiar tug deep in your chest.

For a moment, you stood still, unsure of what to say, if anything. The words hung heavy in your throat. He made everything feel like a gamble, even something as simple as reaching out.

Then, as though sensing your hesitation, he shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against your leg. It was the faintest movement, almost imperceptible, but it carried a weight that words never could. You didn’t need to hear him say it, didn’t need him to look up with that confident smirk that masked so much.

“I am yours,” his actions whispered, even in this silence, even in this waiting.

The weight of it settled over you, not oppressive but grounding. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his coat warm beneath your fingers. He didn’t react outwardly, but you felt the tension ease ever so slightly from his frame, like a gamble that had just paid off.

And for a while, neither of you moved. Waiting, perhaps, but no longer alone.

[chaifootsteps]

i should've mentioned it when we were talking about tuca and bertie and them doing things right, but the arc bertie goes through with her SA and reclaiming it thru taboo fantasies is very similar to what ive been through, right down to a therapist opening me up to this new side of sexuality, and while it all happened to me years prior to the arc happening in the show, it broke me out of my anti shipper mentality that gave me this sense of justice and rigid rightness in what i was doing.

just thought now would be a good time to bring it up too because of the allegations against you and how what happened to max is basically the same thing that's happened to me. it's such an uncomfortable feeling to know someone who brought you into this world sees you like that, and having a fictional character similar to that person to self insert with in writing has helped far more then feeling disgusted with myself ever did or has, because i can stop anytime i want, or just get to a point where i move on completely from being able to gain anything from this personally. (which im leaning towards for now,) it's like bertie's therapist said, "because this time, you're in control."

i just wish antis could at least be more open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, shaming victims for coping this way isn't helpful, and that the lack of nuance implies shaming these uncontrollable fantasies (because you can't control your thoughts and like bertie's therapist said, "brains are weird!", although ive also heard the fear and arousal part of your brain is closely related which explains so many kinks to me tbh,) is the only form of healing and getting better, which it never will be. this kind of thing, of re-exploring your trauma thru fiction like this, definitely doesn't help certain people and that needs to be respected, but for anyone it does, they shouldn't just be written off as "normalizing their abuse", because im aware enough to keep this to myself, and to other people like me.

come talk to me about me "romanticizing" horrible things in fiction when you remember vivs shows have millions of views, and THATS why her writing like a fanfic author is bad - not because she inherently is one at heart. a large audience of adults should engage with these heavy topics, (and deserve to have them be written well, even if the stans swear they don't because nuh uh it's Da Best cuz mama viv made it,) not literal children. regardless of this unfortunate demographic that's naturally been formed and then unnaturally encouraged by the creator to line her pockets with their parents money, i think people have a moral obligation to tell a well written story about dark taboo subjects when they have such a large scale of production and connections like this, with some gray area in between, because theres some pieces of media that aren't as big as vivs creations or as small as fanfic writers (compared to other indie creations like video games or shows,) either, like mouthwash, or that one horror game with a sibling incest ending. that's what i mean when i said you aren't gonna make anyone want to fuck a lizard, but that vivs story's spread sentiment that would give 1970s victim blaming, "well, what was she wearing?" arguments a run for their money in how gross they are. i don't think max is gonna make anyone want to fuck their own dad either.

i hope this all makes sense! i think this is the most vulnerable ive ever been in your ask box. thank you for being someone who makes me feel strong enough to talk about this.

No, no, it makes perfect sense! Thanks for sharing your story, Anon...that was an incredibly vulnerable thing to talk about, and it couldn't have been easy.

I don't know if it's due to social media or what, but people have gotten really, really terrible at the concept of "I do my thing that works for me over here, you do your thing that works for you over there, and even though we don't understand each other, we mind our business about it." Like you said, it becomes a different conversation the more widespread and professional your piece of media is -- the same way that feeding 1,000 people a day is different than cooking for yourself -- but when we're talking about you and me and Max and all the randos on AO3? An appropriately tagged piece of work that makes a sharp distinction between fiction and reality is harmless.

What isn't harmless is telling someone that their intensely personal coping method is wrong and shameful and that they're a dangerous, evil person because it makes you uncomfortable, and that they're either a bad survivor or lying about being one.

Here's the scene from Tuca & Bertie, because it's so well done and always relevant.

[donttxtathebeach]

Y/N Nolan on New Movie Anora & Auditioning for Quentin Tarantino | Jimmy Kimmel Live!

Word count: 1k

Warning: none

a/n

My favorite part is coming soon!!

masterlist

|previous| next|

“Y/n, it’s so wonderful to have you back on the show. First Maxxxine, and now Anora—what a year you’ve had!” Jimmy says with a warm smile.

Y/n laughs, a little surprised at the whirlwind. “I know! It’s been quite the year, for sure. I’m still kind of catching my breath, but in the best way.”

Jimmy grins. “And now, after playing Maxine, you’re stepping into Anora. How does it feel to take a bit of a break from your horror roles and dive into something new?”

Y/n shakes her head. “Well, funny enough, it wasn’t really a break at all. I was actually going back and forth between the sets of Maxxxine and Anora during the entire production of both movies. So, it was a lot of running between sets and trying to switch gears as much as possible! It was intense, but I loved every second of it.” "I mean, when Maxxxine was ending, we were starting to shoot for Anora, so I was trying to finish Maxxxine strong while also trying to get to know Anora on a deeper level, and juggling two completely different characters is not easy, but I enjoyed it!"

Jimmy raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “You were juggling two films at the same time? That’s impressive! So, with Anora, you’re filming in Brooklyn. How was that experience?”

“It was incredible," Y/N says, her eyes lighting up. “Brooklyn has this raw energy, and it really set the tone for the film. We filmed a lot in the streets, which gave it this gritty, authentic vibe. The city became a character in itself, really.”

Jimmy nods, intrigued. “And with Anora, you’re speaking Russian. That’s a big shift from your usual roles. How did you prepare for that?”

Y/n chuckles. “Oh, it was a challenge, for sure, especially with the accent that I got from being around my dad's British side of the family. I had a coach for months, and she was trying to help me hide the little bit of British in me while also layering the Russian, and at first, I kept thinking I wasn’t getting it right. I’d listen to my lines and go, ‘Wait, is that even Russian?’ But I pushed through, and I really tried to connect with the character beyond just the language. It was important to me to get the essence of her, not just speak the words.” "Sean was also glad that my Brooklyn accent was very authentic, and I was like, Thank God, because it was so fun to do. Now when I talk to people, they're like, Wait, youre not actually from Brooklyn; everyone thinks I'm British because of the way I pronounce some of my words, but I'm from Nantucket; I grew up around people from there, so I acclimated to the accent and the way they pronounce things, but now that I'm older, I think I'm sort of losing it."

Jimmy laughs along with her. “I think you nailed it. Now, speaking of your family, your dad is a director. What was his reaction when he heard you were taking on such a big role, especially since you have been doing horror films for most of your adult career?”

Y/n grins. “He was incredibly proud, as always. He’s been in the business for years, so he totally understands the work that goes into something like that. But he never really said anything about the switch in genres. Honestly, he’s been so supportive, as always so to him; it was just something else that made him elated to talk about.”

Jimmy leans forward. “And you not only acted in Maxxxine, but you also wrote and produced it. You’ve been playing Maxxxine—also known as Pearl—throughout the entire trilogy starting from X. That’s got to be a special connection to that character, right?”

y/n nods thoughtfully. “It’s so personal to me. I’ve been with Maxxxine—Pearl, really—since the very beginning. Being a writer and producer on Maxxxine really allowed me to get even deeper into her psyche. It was such an honor to contribute to her story in that way, especially after living with her for so long. I can truly understand why my dad loves his job so much. Taking a step back and seeing her from a different point of view made me truly appreciate all directors and production put into the director's art. It felt like a really full circle moment.”

Jimmy smiles, clearly impressed. “That’s amazing. And with all of these accomplishments under your belt—five Oscars, nine Emmys, and now up for a Golden Globe—you’ve already achieved so much at just 25. How do you keep everything grounded?”

Y/n looks a little sheepish, but grateful. “Honestly, it’s a little overwhelming at times. But I’ve always said that it’s not about the awards for me—it’s about the work, the characters, and the stories. I’ve been acting since I was five, and my dad always taught me that the craft is what matters. So, while I’m incredibly grateful for the recognition, it’s the work that keeps me grounded.”

Jimmy laughs in disbelief. “Five Oscars, nine Emmys, and a Golden Globe nomination? You make it sound like it’s no big deal! But I have to ask—how did you land the role in Anora? Did you audition?”

Y/n laughs, shaking her head. “Actually, I didn’t audition for Anora. Quentin Tarantino came to the premiere of Pearl before we even started shooting Maxxxine. He came up to me afterward and said, ‘I need you to be my Anora. This isn’t an A24 film, but I need you to play her.’ It was so unexpected, but Quentin’s one of those directors you just want to work with, you know? So, I said, ‘Okay, sure, but I’ll be bouncing between sets.’ And he was completely fine with it. He really wanted me to play her.”

Jimmy looks amazed. “So Quentin Tarantino just walked up to you and said, ‘You’re Anora’? That’s incredible! How did you feel about that?”

Y/n grins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It was surreal! I’ve always admired him as a filmmaker, so to have him offer me that role was just a dream come true. And I think the fact that I’d be juggling two sets at once didn’t even phase him. He just wanted me to be a part of it, and I was all in.”

Jimmy nods appreciatively. “That’s the dream, right? You don’t even need to audition when you’ve already got someone like Quentin Tarantino wanting you in their film. Now, I’ve heard you’ve been called the ‘Queen of Horror’—how does that title sit with you?”

Y/n laughs a little bashfully. “It’s such an honor! Horror has been such an important part of my career, and honestly, I actually do not particularly love horror films, but I love the rush. It’s exciting to be a part of it, and if people want to call me the ‘Queen of Horror’, I’ll accept it. But I also want to branch out and do other things too. There’s so much more I want to explore.”

Jimmy smiles warmly. “You’re doing amazing things already. And I know there’s much more to come. Y/n, it’s always such a pleasure to have you here. You’re one of the most exciting young talents in Hollywood right now.”

Y/n smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Jimmy. That means so much to me.”

Jimmy grins back. "Y/n Nolan, everybody! Be sure to check out Anora and Maxxxine, now in theaters!”

|previous| next|

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Can I request the maximum of 🌲 and ⚖️?

Yes!

1k for 🌲:

---

As Buck gets back on the road, headed south to El Paso, he wonders if he’s made a mistake. Not in going after Eddie. Not even in leaving Chris. But in his timing. Is his timing wrong? 

He hadn’t wanted to wait. He’d wanted to get to Eddie as soon as possible. Who knows what the hell that woman is putting him through, right? Who knows if his father is hurt or dead or… Or what! But at the same time, what’s the plan here? What edge up does he have, going back? Should he have waited for business hours? Gone and purchased a gun or something? No. What? No. He’s being crazy. He doesn’t want a gun. He doesn’t even know how to shoot. Guns don’t make anything better. Not really. He’s just scared. He doesn't want anything to happen to Eddie.

He parks outside of a Cabela’s when he reaches El Paso. It’s not even six in the morning. The store doesn’t open until nine. He’s not sure what he’s doing here. Is he going to wait three hours? Buy a weapon? No. Right? He’s not… No. That’s not him. That’s never been him. But who is he willing to be, to protect Eddie? Pretty much anyone, he thinks. For Eddie? Anyone. Anything. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, unsure of the next best step. He doesn’t know what’s right. He doesn’t know what’s crazy. He doesn’t even have a plan. 

The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket startles Buck. He doesn’t expect it. Not at this hour. He reaches into his pocket, hands a little shaky, and pulls it out. It’s a text. From Eddie. 

Idk if you’re awake or even nearby… But if you are, I need you to come pick me up.

Buck just stares at the text. He’s kind of baffled. Just… Just go pick him up? That easy? No gun needed?

Uncertain, he replies: 

How do I know this is really Eddie?

The response is immediate.

Buck… Really?

You’re the first to cry on emotional calls.

You watch way too much reality television.

You have a freckle on your left ass cheek. 

Need I go on?

Wait. He does? Well, okay. That’s Eddie. 

He replies:

I’m coming for you. 

🌲

There’s a long discussion. One that doesn’t include their mother. One that hardly includes their father. 

It’s a discussion about how to move forward. About how to take all this shit, and move forward anyway. 

Ramon will go with Sophia for a while. Stay in San Antonio. He needs time. Eddie can respect that. He’s been through a lot. Eddie’s not sure how much of the blame his father bears in everything that has happened. He’s not blameless. But whatever he did, no one deserves to have their agency stripped away. 

“Marcus is okay with that?” Eddie asks Sophia when she makes the call.

“He’ll have to be,” she says. “Plus, he can’t stay in this house. Not until it’s… A house again.”

Rather than a forest. Right. 

“I’ll work on that,” Adriana says.

It’s her Eddie is most concerned about, actually. Because it’s her who has volunteered for the unhappy task of staying behind. With their mother. Eddie didn’t like it. He didn’t agree with it. Surely she doesn’t deserve that; a child sticking by her after all of this. Especially Adriana, who she left out to rot in the woods, when she was the only person who could have known what had happened to her. 

“You can’t think of it that way,” Adriana argues. “It’s not about giving her what she wants. It’s about… Well, someone needs to keep an eye on her, first of all. You two have kids. Eddie, you… You never need to be around her again. I mean that. And I… I have a lot of time on my hands, while I figure out how to heal from this.”

She plans to fix the house. To make Helena help her fix the house. And maybe, if she can do it without making herself worse, take their mother back to Sweden.

“Maybe it’ll help her,” Adriana says. “Or maybe I’ll leave her there. Haven’t decided yet.”

“You know you don’t have to do this alone,” Eddie says. He’s told her and Sophia what he and Buck figured out. Their theory. The one he plans on rolling with, as best he can.

“We love you,” Sophia adds. “You’re our sister and we are always going to fight for you.”

“I know,” Adriana smiles. “I love you guys. But I need to do this. I have a lot to atone for.”

“It’s not your fault,” Eddie argues.

She shrugs. “That’s a flimsy line. And I need to feel less like a monster.”

Eddie supposes he understands that. 

“But you won’t be a stranger?” He ensures. “You’ll check in?”

She nods. “I promise.”

“Good,” Sophia says. “We will look through any forest to find you, Adri.”

“I know you will,” she smiles. She looks at Eddie. “Thank you for finding me.”

Eddie nods. “Always.”

For his own part, Eddie feels sort of like he’s getting away with something. Like the only one in the group project not doing any work. He is simply going to go home to his son and… Well, and his boyfriend. He guesses. That’s probably the right word for them. Anyway. Point is, he’s going back to his life. He’s going to try to get as much of it back as he can. He’s not taking on the care of any parent. He doesn’t actually have the energy for that. He doesn’t want to be involved in whatever happens to their mother, and he’s not too clear on if he’ll ever have a relationship with his father again. Maybe. He doesn’t know.

---

1k for ⚖️:

---

 Buck is hardly functional when the knock hits the door. He’s crashed out hard after delivering that punishment. Half because of the relief of the tension inside him, half because of the horror of viewing that man’s life. It makes it sort of hard to stay awake and think. Not to mention days and days of hardly sleeping at all have taken their toll on him. 

The point is, when he opens the door to Eddie, he feels like a zombie. He’s sure he looks like a zombie, too. 

Buck frowns when he sees Eddie standing there, two coffees in hand. 

“You don’t have to knock,” he says by way of greeting.

Eddie's mouth tightens a little. “I wasn’t sure.”

Buck sighs. “I told you it’s not… Can you just come inside?”

Eddie hands the coffee to him and steps through the door. 

“Thanks,” Buck mumbles. 

“I don’t know how much space you need,” Eddie says. “So tell me to leave, I guess. But I’m worried about you, okay? I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and you didn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry,” Buck says. “I was sleeping pretty deeply… After not sleeping for a while.”

“Oh,” Eddie nods. “Uh, sorry for waking you up.”

Buck shrugs. “S’fine.”

Eddie exhales heavily. “Buck, are we okay? I don’t… I don’t want us to not be okay.”

Buck does his best to smile. It probably doesn’t look very convincing. 

“We’re totally fine, Eddie.”

Eddie frowns. “What? You were… You were pretty mad at me yesterday.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says. “I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. His brows furrow, like he’s still not satisfied. “I appreciate that. But I’m also kind of thinking that there’s, like, a bigger issue than just some heightened emotions yesterday.”

Yeah. Yeah, Buck can see how he’d think that. 

“There was,” Buck agrees. “But I fixed it. It-it won’t be a problem anymore. So we can forget about it.”

“What does that mean, Buck?” Eddie asks. “What did you do?”

“Does it matter? It’s… It’s fixed.”

“Fixed?” Eddie asks. His expression turns from concerned to angry. “The problem where I don’t want you to look into my future is just fixed? You aren’t worried anymore? So, yeah. It matters. What did you do? I mean, when did you even… We didn’t even touch after that!”

Okay, right. He can see how that looks. 

“No, no, no,” Buck shakes his head. “I didn’t look. I didn’t do anything.”

“Then how the hell is it fixed?” Eddie asks. 

“I made a deal,” Buck says. “I made a deal with Nemesis.”

Eddie’s face slackens. “What?”

Buck explains it. The whole thing. The deal, the terms, all of it. What he had to do in the middle of the night. The way he feels now. Eddie listens, face frozen with terror. He should be happy. Why isn’t he happy? Buck fixed everything. All their futures. Everyone is going to be okay. 

“Oh god, Buck,” Eddie says. “That’s not a good trade.”

“What?” Buck demands. “What do you mean? It’s a great deal, Eddie. Everyone I love is going to get the best future they can.”

“At what cost? You torturing yourself?” Eddie asks. “This is too much.”

“No,” Buck says. “No. I was already stuck with this either way.”

“But this is worse,” Eddie protests. “You could have gotten by on helping people. You liked that part.”

“I… I still can,” Buck reasons. “It just doesn’t… It won’t be enough.”

Eddie sighs. He pinches the bridge of his knows. The way he does when something - or someone - is exasperating him. Buck tenses. It feels oddly condescending. 

“Stop,” Buck pleads. “Eddie, stop. Just be happy. Please. You’re going to be happy.”

“Have you possibility considered I don’t want to buy my happiness at your expense?” Eddie asks loudly. Almost a shout. 

Buck swallows. He doesn’t understand why this is so bad. He doesn’t get it.

“Well, I’m the one that made the deal,” Buck says. “It was my choice.”

Eddie purses his lips. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Buck. I’m not going to pretend I’m not freaked out for you.”

“Okay, well I’m good. I’ll adjust,” Buck says. 

He’s actually not sure that that’s true. He thinks he might be lying. Because really… He’s scared. He’s terrified. He feels awful. He wishes Eddie would just get over this so Buck could just… He doesn’t even know. Ask him to stay here and hold him for a little while? Would that make it better? Maybe not for long, but for now…

Eddie sighs. He crosses his arms tightly, like he’s cold. “Okay, well… Alright.”

“Alright, what?” Buck asks. 

“Alright, I… I guess I don’t know what to say.”

“About what?” Buck asks. “It’s done, Eddie.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Eddie replies. 

“What do you want me to do?” Buck asks. “I’m not going to take it back. So either… Either you…”

“Either I what?” Eddie demands.

“Either you-you have to be okay with it, or… Or you leave me, I guess!” Buck flounders.

Eddie’s whole face falls. “Are you serious?”

No. No, Buck is not serious. He doesn’t want Eddie to leave. He doesn’t want any sort of ultimatum to be issued. Not really. But, what else is he supposed to say? What more does Eddie want him to do? What's done is done.

So Buck just shrugs helplessly. He feels helpless. He feels exhausted. 

“Wow,” Eddie says. “So much for your best possible futures for everyone, then.”

“Wait, no, that’s not-”

“You know, I think I’m gonna go,” Eddie says. 

“Eddie, come on. No, I-”

But Eddie is already walking towards the door.  “You know, when I was struggling, you were allowed to worry about me without me giving you some sort of ultimatum,” Eddie says. “I think you’re in trouble, Buck. And if you can take your head out of your ass to actually listen to me, I’ll be around.”

[weministertomonsters]

The Alien Emissary - 2

➤ Wordcount - 1.2k

You wake up startled because you fall out your bed. Well, not your bed. This isn't The Collective's mothership. You're in a cramped space, lying on a cramped cot. You recognize the interior to be the inside of the Vathri shuttle.

Right, I passed out.

You sit up slowly, rubbing your temple in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning. Your hand brushes against electric cuffs hanging loose on the wall. That must have been the restraints used on the Vathri you saved. You lift one and grimace at the thin metal prong on the cuff. For electricity to be effective on a Vathri it has to get to their skin, which is under a protective layer of armor-like scales. The prongs are designed to be forced underneath. You've always wondered if it feels like getting needles shoved under your nails, in which case it would hurt badly. When you stand up, you bump your head on the ceiling. Frowning you rub your sore head.

"This room is practically pocket-sized," you mutter. "How'd they even stuff him down here?"

"You are awake." The Vathri's voice floats into the room through the open hatch. "Come up, we are reaching our destination."

You climb up into the cockpit. The Vathri is seated at the controls, looking far more familiar with it than you did.

"How long was I out?" You ask, folding your arms and watching him work.

"A quarter of an hour. Not long." His voice still has that mysterious buzz in it. Rather than being eerie, you find it sort of soothing.

"Is that normal? It was like I was on a bad trip."

"I have never seen a human use the cloaking, but I am not surprised. Even Vathri young find it difficult on their first try."

You step closer and surreptitiously look him over. Thanks to their biological armor, the Vathri appear fully covered and often go around wearing loose pants and some jewelry, and not much else. He doesn't have either. When your gaze dips between his thick, muscular thighs, he snorts.

"Looking for the princess destroyer, I assume?"

The startled sound you make is hardly elegant before you burst out laughing.

"The what now?" You snicker. "I had no idea your kind could be funny."

"This is all a bid to lure you in," he replies, busy fiddling with the controls.

"I was just curious. Sorry." You clear your throat. "Have you… Heard about me?"

"You are certainly a blip on the gossip radar."

"Shit. Attracting attention is a surefire way to get killed," you grumble.

"Perhaps you should not have slept with the Emissary of Luscen then?"

You scoff. "The rumors are exaggerated. We didn't get that far. We got caught, as apparently, all of the galaxy knows. It was my first time in space and I was excited and optimistic and horny about everything."

The shuttle's engine grumbles and the Vathri croons to it. While his native tongue sounds harsh to your ears, you can pick out the intention behind it.

Come on, just a little further. You can do it, you little hunk of metal, you think.

"Csami? What does that mean?" You ask, picking out one distinctive word.

"Lady."

"Cute." You grab a hold of the armrest of the pilot's seat as the engine begins to stall.

Not a big issue. You can see the planet you're heading for up ahead and you're pretty sure you're going to make it, even if the landing is rough.

"That is the shuttle's name. Csami-kïy."

"Lady-8," you muse.

"You are taking Vathri lessons?"

"Yes, I love learning languages. Luscen was pretty easy and I'd say I'm conversational with it now. Vathri has some sounds I don't think I can produce, though, so my speaking probably won't ever be good."

"Tell me, are you not even a little afraid of me?" He suddenly asks, turning eyes that burn like small orange suns in your direction.

"Of what you are? No. That's what made me a good fit as an Emissary. I'm more curious than anything. As for your jailbreak, I feel like we're in this together. For now, anyway. Besides, I tend to trust my gut."

"And what is it telling you?"

"That we're cool. You might be trouble, but not for me."

The Vathri makes a noncommittal sound. "I see."

You look down at his wrists, searching for the abrasion from the handcuffs. It's right there. The smaller delicate scales on his wrist aren't sitting quite right, having been rudely shoved aside by the prongs on the cuffs. He doesn't turn away from what he's doing but he can tell you're looking because he angles the injury away from you.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's unpleasant. You might want to sit down," the Vathri says.

But there's only one seat, and in the sleek design of the interior, there's nothing much to hold on to. As he starts to nose the shuttle down, you grab a hold of his shoulder to anchor yourself and the warmth of his scales seeps into your fingertips. Brazen, maybe, but you like being in one piece. When you nearly fly off balance, he takes one hand off the controls for a second to perch you on the arm of the chair.

"Lean into me," he says. "The landing might be rough."

You do. The shuttle shakes so violently that you're surprised nothing falls off as you land in a puff of dust. Once the shuttle comes to a screeching halt you lift your head and unclench your jaw. There's an arm looped around your side and holding you in place, except both his arms are in front, so that's not possible. You look down to see that it's his tail. The tip of it ends in a stinger that looks like a cross between a blade and a barbed arrow. It looks deadly and your little animal brain immediately wants to touch it.

"Can that kill me?"

He pulls his tails away and it flicks lightly against his calf. "Not unless I intend so. Poison is manually generated, much like spitting on someone."

You file that information away for later. He unclips the seatbelt and stands. When he reaches for something over your head, you flinch a little. He looks down at you, his hand still raised over your head.

"I'm not afraid," you say quickly.

His mandibles twitch. Vathri faces don't really make expressions, but you can practically feel his amusement.

"Humans are easy to read," He replies.

And what's that supposed to mean? You think, but he's already ducking out of the exit hatch.

You realize he's bigger than the Vathri who first exited the shuttle. None of them had to duck. You're busy wondering if they were all small and he's just big when you walk right into his back.

"Oh, sorry-"

He's frozen, his tail flicking in an uneasy way that immediately affects you too. If something larger than you is scared, you're dead meat.

"What's wrong?" You peer around him to see a huge angry-looking alien storming down the landing towards you.

"Another of your enemies? You killed his family or something?" You squeak.

"I fucked his boyfriend."

"What!"

"Get back inside," the Vathri says without turning to you. "I am about to take a beating."

You don't need to be told twice.

──────────────────

If you're wondering why I'm posting much slower right now it's because I've been busy on Patreon. You can read free stories on there that I haven't posted anywhere else, like Contents Under Pressure, Soft Heart, Bad Things and Vile And Vulgar (my favorite).

[rhyrhy]

Against the grain ❀

❀ Note: i don’t usually write race specific fics but This was Drabble I had and thought it would be Soo cute to put Abby in it! We know bae doesn’t discriminate!

❀ Cw: black Reader!, no talks of body specifics, racism/prejudice, shy! Abby, mini fluff series! , homophobia (some internal). modern world/70’s Abby, Younger! Abby, 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏿 for my fellow girls of color <3

✎ Chapter one: quiet glances

As a Black high school senior, life was already challenging. The stares and whispers in the halls of Jefferson High were constant reminders that you didn’t belong in the eyes of most of your classmates. You were used to the dirty looks, the quick glances full of disdain or discomfort.

But recently, there was another kind of gaze. A look that wasn’t fueled by hate or judgment. It felt different—softer, almost curious. Admiring, even.

That couldn’t be right. Why would anyone—let alone a white girl—look at you like that? And why did her lingering gaze, her confident yet easy smile, make your heart beat just a little faster?

Today, The cafeteria of Jefferson high buzzed with laughter and chattering. Usually you’d get in line, punch in your lunch number, and sit with your table of the small portion of other black students.

Ray, Shayla, and a few other familiar faces greeted you with nods and smiles. Their presence was a lifeline in the sea of snickering and whispered comments that followed you through the halls. The non colored students weren’t subtle, their remarks always just loud enough to hear. You told yourself what Mama always said- that hate was taught, that those words weren’t their own but regurgitated of what they’d been raised on, but that didn’t irritate you any less and sure as hell wasn’t a justification.

When you first enrolled at Jefferson, Mama gave you a long talk in the kitchen, her hands moving as fast as her words while she pressed your hair. “Hold your ground,” she said. “And don’t you ever forget that Black is beautiful, no matter what foolishness you hear.”

“Yes, Mama,” you always replied with a soft smile, not wanting her to worry more than she already did. The ladies at the salon, mama owned always chimed in, too, adding their own wisdom and head nods. Graduation was just around the corner, and soon, you’d leave Jefferson behind. Still, some things stuck. And recently, it wasn’t those hateful echoed words or stares that lingered in your mind. It was something else. A different kind of gaze.

Those blues eyes. Her, eyes.

You always felt them before you saw them. Her gaze, when you caught it was soft, curious. No scoff or eye roll followed. Almost… admiring?

No, that couldn’t be right. Why would anyone, let alone a white girl, look at you like that? And, more importantly, why did it make your heart beat just a little faster? You quickly looked away, trying to shake the feeling. unsure what to make of her reoccurring glances.

you tired to focus on your food but your own spark of curiosity got the better of you. So, you slowly glanced over to her table.

‘Oh… she’s pretty’

you thought. while she wasn’t looking, you scanned over her head to toe, it was only fair considering she clearly had a staring problem of her own, right?

Her face was beautifully smacked with freckles. her brown hair was pulled into a neat fishtail braid that swayed a little every time she laughed. She wasn’t like the other girls at her table. While they wore pleated skirts, she sat in slacks. Interesting.

As you were returning her staring you seen a male at her table flick his eyes to you and following your gaze to his friend in front of him.

Manny? You think his name was, sharing a math class together. you slowly turned your gaze away praying he didn’t say anything.

You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. You knew you shouldn’t be looking at another girl like that anyhow. fixing your own uniform and turning back to your friends pretending you weren’t just deep in thought about another girl just a few tables away.

Meanwhile a few tables away…

Abby was sitting at her usual table with her small group of friends, but this time her mind wasn’t really on their conversation. She was trying to act casual, casually sneaking glances over at your table, not knowing you caught her. Multiple times.

She tilted her head and noticed you seemed lost in thought, not touching your food or taking part in the conversation. Odd, she thought.

Manny, the friend sitting next to her, noticed the frequent glances between her table and yours. He raised an eyebrow and nudged her to get her attention.

“You alright, abs?” he asked with a eyebrow raised, knowing exactly what was going on. His friend had this routine of staring from a distance for what felt like weeks now.

Abby flushed a bit, caught off guard by his call out. Embarrassed to be seen staring at another girl in such a manner.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she retorted, trying to play it cool while side eyeing your table.

Manny chuckled, clearly amused by Abby’s failed attempts at nonchalance. “Sure, sure you are. You’re not being weird at all, just staring across the cafeteria at some girl.”

He followed her gaze, realizing you were the person of her attention. “Say, isn’t that the girl from our math class?”

Abby glanced away quickly, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment that her crush hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Shut up,” she whispered, elbowing Manny lightly in the side. her stomach was in knots.

Manny backed off seeing her discomfort. “Hey, no judgment here. But you know I’m gonna give you a hard time for it.”

Then, He stole another glance in your direction. “She is kind of cute, though. I can see the appeal.”

Abby felt her cheeks warm once more.

“What- Shut up! It’s not like that, anyway. I think she’s just... cool, that’s all.” She avoided eye contact.

God, She wanted nothing more but to crawl into her uniform and disappear. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

————

Im working on like 2 fics with this one, my brain just won’t shut up with ideas 😭😭😭 anyways! Ty for readingggg, this is going to be a mini fluff series that’s been sitting in my notes

[lovetogether]

Being interested in taboo subjects comes a sense of understanding that you will be seen as weird or even sometimes “wrong”. We enjoy fetish content from a pov of deep fascination and utter obsession, though these very topics can be a source of discomfort for others, it’s important this is understood and respected. If anything knowing you will not always be liked helps in being less afraid. Learn to read a room, don’t bring up certain subjects which may shift a mood if brought up around the wrong person. Make sure you’re somebody that others feel fine saying no to, or than they’re uncomfortable. In all this though remind yourself so long as you are not taking part in something harmful to others you are justified in your interest. Everyone should have space to exist and exist so loudly and boldly as they can. Don’t cross boundaries, but don’t apologize for existing either.

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[agnesandhilda]

watched conclave last night and then read the wikipedia entry for the book and now I'm wondering about the category ten shitstorm that a publicly intersex pope would cause

[sysig]

Okay but what if (Patreon)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[sunnibits]

y’all I’m ngl the arfid has become so bad this week that I am genuinely clinging to water like it’s the best thing ever

[merriclo]

bro just beat totk. goddamn.

[itsalwaysdark]

i wish i had an exact copy of myself. sigh

[technicolorxsn]

kinda scared of a friend of mine bc I swear everytime I run into her she's surrounded by 2-5 people and they're totally different people from the ones surrounding her last time

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~