#and also it's so unusual for me to have so many ideas??? wtf is this obsession doing to me

[saturniere]

it's been SO LONG since i've drawn any lucio related things oh my GOD (it's been half an hour)

[endlessthxxghts]

Joel Nye, The Science Guy

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.6k

"Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would."

Summary: Joel stumbles across an article online about the effects of coffee on the body. Determined to uncover the truth, he tests the hypothesis with you as his subject.

Contents/Warnings: Any physical description of reader is neutral (no size descriptions). Joel is bigger than you though (but he’s fucking huge in general, so…). No age mentioned for reader or for Joel. Implied established relationship. No matter what age, Joel is a grandpa when it comes to technology. Mentions of Amazon LMAO. SMUT 18+ MDNI (mutual masturbation on the phone, touching yourself in the workplace, dirty talk, sexting [kinda], ..kitchen activities…reflections…, finger fucking, lots of liquids, squirting, cumming untouched, drinking coffee with an ulterior motive!, allusion to further sexual endeavors). Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! I just got done rewatching TLOU for the millionth time while drinking some coffee, and for some reason, this was born. I have no idea wtf this is, so don't ask me.💚 Also let’s thank @javierpena-inatacvest for titling this silly thing for me hehe. Fucking iconic. I love you, bestie.🥹 Here's to my first fic of 2024, and to many more! I hope you enjoy.💚

MASTERLIST

Joel’s number one favorite sensation every morning was when the first drop of the bitter, black liquid met his tongue, consuming all his senses into nothing but pure coffee. It was one of his favorite things—past tense—because then he got to experience what it was like waking up to you every morning, what it was like tasting you every morning. The first drop of you blessed his tongue one year ago, and he never looked back.

That is, until now. 

You had work today and Joel had the day off, a rare occurrence. You forgot to set your alarm this morning, so you broke from his hold in a rush, leaving him nothing but a sweet kiss to last him the day. 

Usually your mornings together are spent tangled in his sheets until he leaves you with less than twenty minutes to get ready for your day. Too addicted to the way he makes you feel, you mastered the art of quick change, using the rest of your time to do your morning skincare routine. This, you’ll never skip—subjecting yourself to a few scoldings by your boss because of it.

Joel allowed himself a few more hours of sleep after you left, his body needing extra rest from his unusually crazy day at the job site yesterday and from the way you pounced on him as soon as he came home. You promised him it would be you doing all the work, but like the addicting little thing you are, he couldn’t help but take charge so he could watch you fall apart over and over and over again. 

Joel pulled himself out of his bed, a chill running down his body from leaving the trapped body heat of the sheets. He was hard, of course, and usually you’re there to help with his morning problem, but apparently today’s full of rare events for Joel. He grumbles to himself as he makes the way to the bathroom, not wanting to take care of himself without you, not anymore. He could wait for you to be home, but he knows he’d be a leaking, grumpy mess all day—God forbid he has to interact with another human in that aroused, frustrated state. He checks the little clock you bought for his bathroom counter when you moved in—so I can watch the time when I get ready for work, you scolded him when he made you late for the first time. 

11:48 the clock displays; twelve more minutes until your break. He can wait twelve minutes. You usually close your office during your lunch, don’t you? Maybe he can call you. He might as well do his own morning routine while he waits. Joel’s old morning routines consisted of brushing his teeth, then washing his face with soap and water. Though, upon witnessing his wretched routine the first morning you two spent together, you were utterly appalled at his actions, forcing him to the store and spending the first half of your morning educating him on proper skincare. His morning routine went from four minutes to fifteen with your influence, but because he didn’t want to be a minute late in calling you, he shaved three minutes off from his task. 

As soon as the clock hit twelve, Joel plopped himself in bed, leaning against the headboard, and reached for his phone, immediately dialing you. 

Two rings later, and your sweet voice fills his ears. “Hi, baby,” you say. He can hear the small smile on your face. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Joel rasps, his voice still groggy from the lack of use. 

“You just wake up?” You jokingly scold, knowing damn well what the answer was. You like when he sleeps in. He deserves the rest from all that hard work he does. 

“Maybe,” he tells you. You can hear the smirk on his face now. “How’s work goin’? On your break now?”

“Work is… definitely going,” you huff. “And yeah, I’m on my break now, which means I’ve got an hour to counterproductively stress about these reports that have to go out.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you softly. But then he’s smirking again. “Can I help?”

“Help?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he states like it’s the most regular answer ever. “Lemme help de-stress ya,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave. 

A heat consumes your face, but you remain calm. “Yeah?” You breathe. “And how would you help me, cowboy?” You ask him as you swiftly stand from your desk to lock your office door and close your blinds. 

“I reckon you just locked that door of yours, huh?” He asks rhetorically, knowing you better than you know yourself. Not even your past lovers would be able to pick up on the slightest of changes in your voice when you’re aroused. Joel picks up on it instantly. 

“Maybe,” you repeat his sentiment from earlier. 

“If I’m remembering correctly,” Joel says as he rubs his hand over his tenting bulge in an attempt to ease his ache. “You’ve got a couch in there, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, you know what to do next, babygirl.” 

Glancing at your door to make sure it’s really locked, you make your way to your couch, unbuttoning your jeans in the process and shucking them down as your ass meets the cushion. Fuck, you’re already soaked. 

“Where are you?” You ask him, your fingers ghosting your core over the wet patch on your panties.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes. Joel sent you a text. An image. Clicking it, a breathy little whimper escapes you. “Fuck.” He’s leaning against the headboard, legs pushed open, his thick thighs on display. He’s just wearing his boxers, and his hand is inside, gripping onto his length. His leaking, angry tip is showing from the top of his boxers. A little circle catches your eye, and- oh. It’s a live photo. You hold down on the image, and you see his hips jerk into his hand. “Fuck,” you say again, your pussy twitching in excitement yet frustration that you can’t have him inside you right now. “I need you so fucking bad, Joel,” you whine into the phone as your fingers finally dip inside. 

“I need you, too, baby,” he groans, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ over here.” He sounds so pained. It riles you up even more. Your fingers speed up at his words, breathy moans escaping you. You circle your clit a few more times before reaching lower and dipping your middle and index finger inside of you. Joel hears the faintest sound of a squelch, and the grip on his cock tightens. He pulls his boxers completely down over his thighs, his cock completely free, and he tugs at a slow, teasing pace in an effort to build himself up the way you normally do for him. “Let me hear you, baby, let me hear you touch yourself for me.”

Lord, you hope your room is sound proofed enough because without any hesitation, you’re putting him on speaker and setting your phone down near your cunt, pumping in and out of yourself faster and deeper for him to hear. “J-Joel, f-fuck,” you stutter, “I- I’m-”

“You’re close, baby, I know,” he says soothingly. You can hear the slick sound of his hand speed up. Your other hand falls to your clit as your fingers continue inside. “Let go for me, mi amor, soak those fingers as if it were my cock fuckin’ you,” he rambles. “Just like I know you can, baby, atta fuckin’ girl.”

With the help of his filthy mouth, your body seizes up and you’re seeing stars, your eyes falling to the back of your head as you remove your hand from your clit to slap it over your mouth in an attempt to stop the high-pitched, purely pornographic moan of his name from escaping the walls of your not-so private office. You can hear the moment Joel cums, too, a painful groan roars from his throat as you hear the movements slow but get slippier with each pass over. 

You’re on the phone for a few moments more, listening to each other’s breaths, slowly fixing your clothing as you let your heart rate return to normal. 

“Joel,” you finally have enough strength to say. 

“Yeah, darlin’?”

He hears a faint knock on your door. You pull the phone away to lessen your volume on his end. Just a moment, he hears you call out. “Gonna need more of you when I get home.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies more than happily.

After your phone call, Joel cleans and dresses himself up and heads to the kitchen. 

Joel can’t help the way your words bounce around his head. Gonna need more of you when I get home.

“And I’m definitely gonna need a fuck ton of you today,” he mutters to the bag of Colombian coffee grounds he pulls out of his kitchen cabinet. He refills the machine with water, inserts a filter, pours two heaping spoonfuls of the ground beans into the compartment, places a mug, and hits start. He goes to put the coffee away, but it’s then he feels how lightweight the bag is starting to feel. 

Genuinely, he begins to panic. He needs to order more, and he needs to do it now. He cannot go a day without his precious coffee. The brand he orders is online only, and usually he would wait for you to help him place the order, but he doesn’t want to risk hitting the cutoff for same day delivery. 

Joel isn’t that old, and he certainly grows with the time period, but when it comes to technology, he’s worse than your 97-year-old grandmother who attempts to group FaceTime both of you every night. Sure, he knows how to send you pictures, but that’s the extent of his ability. Truly. With his coffee in mind, though, he puts on his bravest face and opens Safari. He searches for the website you’re always on. A, he types. M. A. Z. 

There! Amazon. He clicks the website, not knowing the app is already installed on his phone. He sees the smiling logo, and, proud of himself, he smiles back at it. 

The smile is quick to fade, however, because the intricacies of working the website is giving him heart palpitations. He sets his phone down and reaches for his reading glasses in his pocket and slides them on. He picks up his phone again. 

The thing about using Amazon on a phone through a search engine, though, is that the website is constantly glitching. So when he types in the word coffee, he has zero idea how he ended up on a completely different website, his original search lost in the complicated webs of the internet. 

It takes him a moment to realize what he’s reading, but once it registers, it’s way more interesting than his original task. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee, the headline read. His eyes begin to scan lower. Researchers concluded there was a “correlation between caffeine and sex” after testing its effects on rats.

Oh, yeah, he’s intrigued. 

After reading the article, Joel restarts his original task and ends up ordering a larger amount of coffee than he normally would. In the name of science, he rationalized with himself.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, he grabs his mug and takes the time to enjoy his cup of pure caffeine. He needs the energy after all.

You get off promptly at 4pm, not wanting to spend any more time in your office—especially with the way you’ve been buzzing with need ever since your noon phone call. As soon as you park, you see an Amazon delivery person dropping off a box. They don’t ring the doorbell, and you know Joel doesn’t pay attention to the delivery notifications.

You get out of your car, leaving your things to get later. You reach the front porch and unlock and open the door first, bending down and picking up the box second. 

Joel greets you at the door, immediately cursing himself for not paying attention to the door, resulting in you doing the heavy lifting. He knows you’re more than capable—Hell, you could probably handle his job better than he can—but his Southern upbringing is too deeply rooted into him to allow anything less. 

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry, I coulda brought that in, baby,” he tells you as he takes the box from your grasp, giving you a forehead kiss as a trade off. The warmth of his lips physically relaxes you. 

You two walk towards the kitchen, Joel sets the box down on the counter. “I just parked as they dropped it off, honey, it was no biggie,” you reply softly. 

“I know, baby, but you know I-” he starts. You don’t let him finish as you grab him by his biceps and pull him into you, your arms finding their home wrapped around his neck as his grip completely wrapping your waist. Your lips slot together in a slow, needy embrace—your tongues slowly breaching each other’s mouths. You swallow the groans escaping his throat as you pull away from him. 

“I know,” you say breathily, eyes as dark as his morning coffee. “Won’t do it again, promise,” you smile, knowing this is the only false promise you’ll ever make. At the rate of how hard you work him in other things, carrying a few heavy boxes is the least you could do every now and then. “Now, please undress me, baby,” you whimper, your hand skating down the front of his body, your deft fingers sliding into his waistband. 

With one arm around your waist, another claws at your top, untucking it from your jeans to lift it over your head as he kisses and nips all over your jaw and neck. He turns your body so that your ass meets the counter, pushing his hips into yours, silently telling you to jump up. 

Too eager, you don’t realize the trajectory of your jump, and your ass smacks the package, causing it to almost slip off the edge. The impact to your rear surprises you enough to pull away from Joel and look back. Apparently, your brain is already turned to mush because you completely forgot about that box’s existence. 

However, now that you’re looking at it, you’re confused. You haven’t ordered anything recently. Did Joel order something? But he doesn’t even know how- 

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asks, pausing all his movements. 

“Did you order something?” You ask.

His cheeks go red. “Yeah.. we were runnin’ out of my coffee ‘n I didn’t want to not have any for tomorrow or for later ‘n I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home to help me-” 

The bubbly sounds of your giggles are what cut him off. “What?” He asks, slightly defensive and slightly giddy at the sweetness blessing his ears. 

“You ordered something!” You exclaim. “You ordered something! And you were successful with it!” You’re gasping for air, speaking your excitement into his chest as you wrap yourself around him. 

“Don’t make fun a’me,” he pouts, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving your face a little scolding shake. 

“Oh, baby, no,” you coo, your laughter calming down because of the pain in your cheeks from smiling so wide. “I’m not making fun. I’m so proud!” your voice raises back up, as if you were talking to a baby who hit their first big milestone. 

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, don’t be like that,” you say as you lean in to give him a soft kiss. He gives in, of course, and he deepens it. “I really am proud,” you say as you attempt to pull away. 

He doesn’t let you. “Yeah, yeah,” he says sardonically in between kisses. 

Your hand drags up and grabs at his jaw, pulling him away so you can speak. “Now you don’t have to ask me to order things for you anymore,” you say with a smirk.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he breathes, trying to push against your hold on him. “Worst experience ever, I even-” 

He cuts himself off because he was so caught up in you when you got home, he forgot about the little detour his internet experience took him on today. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee. 

“Actually,” he redirects. “Can we have some now?”

Your eyes pop out of your head in astonishment. “Right now?” you ask in disbelief. 

He gulps. “Y-yeah, right now. That okay?”

You don’t see why not besides the fact that his erection has been perched right against the soaked fabric of your panties for the last fifteen minutes and you’ll probably go mad if you don’t actually get relief in the next five minutes—but yeah, sure. Why not?

“I guess?” You say. Or ask? You really don’t know anymore. 

Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would.

You’re not really a coffee person. Sure, you have a cup here and there—mostly iced and from your favorite local shop on your way to work—but compared to Joel, you are nowhere near the level he is. 

“How do you want it?” He asks, his back turned to you as he prepares two mugs. 

“Rough,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. You can feel the slick in your underwear start to get cold—and dry. 

Joel briefly turns around catching your eye; he points to his ear. “Say that again, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Okay, maybe you’re being a little too bitchy. You rise from your seat at the counter, perching yourself right beside him, reaching your hand into his curls to give him a little head scratch. “I’ll do it, baby,” you say. “Thank you.” With your hand still at the back of his head, you guide him to look at you as you stand on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.

The coffee, honestly, wasn’t that bad. Yeah, you put your usual creamer and sugar, but you put slightly less—curious to get a glimpse of the natural flavor Joel loves so much. You could get used to it like this, you think. One thing is for sure, though: the brand Joel buys is fucking strong. You’re on your last sip, and you are struggling—you can feel your heart pumping out of your chest, and you swear you feel like your entire body is pulsing. Like you can hear your blood coursing through your veins. You don’t tell Joel because you don’t want to sound weird, so you shrug the feeling away and take your last sip. Perfectly in sync with you, Joel finishes off his coffee and reaches for your mug to also bring to the sink. 

Quickly letting the faucet run into the mugs so the coffee doesn’t stain, Joel speaks up. “How was it, darlin’? I know you don’t really enjoy coffee the way I do,” he notes. 

“Actually, baby, I really enjoyed it,” you say with a genuine smile. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a boyish grin sneaking past his lips.

“Yeah,” you reassure. “It was really strong, though,” you add. 

“Strong?” he asks, eyebrow quirked. 

“Yeah, um-” you start, unsure of how to describe it. “I don’t know, I just- I’ve never had coffee make my entire body feel like- like it’s buzzing or something. I don’t know,” you ramble. 

“Huh,” he says to no one in particular. “I mean, it is one of the stronger roasts,” he tells you. Is this because you were already severely worked up beforehand? It can’t be the placebo effect—he didn’t even tell you about his discoveries. 

Guess there’s only one way to go from here. 

Not giving you a chance to respond, his hands find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. He kisses your jaw, trailing his lips down the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your head falls back onto him, your eyes fluttering shut as you give him full access. His fingers skate across the front of your jeans, your shirt already untucked from his earlier attempt. Your hips buck into his hands in response, a whiny little please leaves your mouth. 

“Shh, I got ya, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear, his drawl licking a heat up your spine. He adjusts himself so he’s the one leaning against the kitchen counter, your body entirely relying on his support to keep you standing. 

He’s unbuttoning your jeans and right away you’re reaching for the zipper, helping him pull your bottoms down in one go. 

You’re shaking in his grasp, too pent up with a need your body doesn’t know what to do with. “Relax, baby, I’ma take care a’ya,” he says with a nip to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger already finding their place running through your soaked folds. 

Your eyes shut at the sensation, your breathing erratic and vocal. He drags your slick up to your throbbing bundle of nerves, circling with a precision only he knows how to provide. “F-fuck,” you moan. His other hand slides down to your sex, his two fingers going straight for your entrance and sliding in with ease with how much is pouring from you. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl?” He’s pumping in and out of you at a languid pace even with the squirm of your hips. The stimulation on your clit never falters. “I can feel that pretty pussy flutter ‘round me, darlin’, I know she’s close.”

“J-Joel, please,” you let out, your head bobbing back and forth, unable to keep its heavy weight up.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s using his foot to kick your legs further apart, settling yours on the outside of his, and then both of you are dropping to the ground. His back is to the wall of the kitchen island while you land perfectly spread open atop his lap. Not worried about his or your balance anymore, he fucks into you harder, applying more pressure on your clit—the kind that makes you want to force your legs shut but you can’t, not with the way his own legs are keeping you open. “Open your eyes, sweet girl, need ya to look at yourself when you fuckin’ soak me.”

You open your eyes immediately and cast your eyes downward to his hands on you. “Nuh uh,” Joel tuts. His hand working your clit comes up to your jaw, your slick dampening your jaw as he guides you to look straight forward. Your reflection stares back at you from the dark oven window. Even in the dull image its showing you, you can see the way your pussy is glistening in the fluorescent kitchen light, the sweat dripping down your temples, your fucked-out face with Joel’s dark gaze ravaging every part of you. 

Everything—all of your senses—is completely Joel, Joel, Joel, and before you know it, you’re gushing into his hand; his newfound liquid gold ever since he met you, collecting into the depths of his palm, all while you’re roaring and thrashing out in pure bliss on top of him. 

The sight, sound, the feel, everything—just like you—consumes him whole. His lust takes over now, and his hands aren’t stopping. They continue their pace—their assault—on your sensitive core. He peers down over your shoulder, and his cock grows impossibly harder at the messy, slippery sight before him. “Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Gimme one more, c’mon,” he breathes in, your scent beginning to linger into his nose, crawling into his skin and finding its home there. “I know you can gimme one more, baby, always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

Your head is nodding furiously as you fight with your eyes to stay open and locked on your reflection. Your babbling, spit thick and coating every inch of your mouth as you try and respond. Mhm and one and more and fuck break free from your mouth, giving all the green light Joel needs to know he isn’t going too far. 

You turn your head to face Joel, your hand flying to the back of his curls and pulling him for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue—an intermingling of each other’s spit as you swallow the other’s coffee-tinged breaths. 

He feels the flutter in your cunt once more, but this time it’s stronger, tighter. The way you’re clamping down on him sends him into a frenzy, his hips rutting his erection into your lower back at the feel of your warmth wrapped around him. “C’mon, baby, let go, I feel you,” he encourages. 

“Fuck-!” A high-pitched gasp turned whine comes out of your mouth as your entire body goes rigid, your pussy uncontrollably fluttering and spasming as Joel fucks you through your high. All you see is white, your body is engulfed by a tingly feeling that only describing it as TV static could do it justice. Your breathing is deep and shallow all at one, but more notably, you feel wet. Completely and utterly soaked, you can feel liquid pooling at your asscheeks and on the hardwood floor. 

You finally gather the strength to look down—Joel too, and he steals the words right from your mouth. “Holy. Fuck.”

You two stay there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts on what the fuck just happened, and finally, you speak first. 

“I just-” you start. 

“You did,” he finishes, equally as shocked. Amazed. 

“How are we gonna-”

He rubs your thighs. “Can you stand?” 

You think for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll get up first. Then I’ll pull you up. Just don’t move, I don’t need ya slippin’ on-”

“Yeah, okay,” you stop him, feeling slightly embarrassed about it all. 

He stands up, avoiding the little puddle below; then he pulls you up, kneeling to pull your underwear on for some sense of emotional comfort. “Hey.” He nudges your face with his hand to look into his eyes. “That was fuckin’ incredible. Ya hear me?” Heat washes over your entire face. You say nothing. “It was so fuckin’ hot and sexy and so so beautiful, I’m fuckin’ lucky to have witnessed somethin’ so heavenly, darlin’.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Ya hear me?” he repeats his question, softer this time. 

The embarrassment washes away in an instant. “Well,” you look into his eyes, a flash of trouble dancing across your orbs. “Felt fuckin’ incredible, too.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, grabbing and guiding your hand down to his cock. “It did feel mighty incredible,” smugness written all over his face. 

He dips your hand inside his pants, and you're met with his half-hard, sticky length. “Joel, did you-”

“That I did, baby, that I did.” 

A moment passes, and you burst out into laughter for the second time tonight. Only this time, Joel joins in, completely taking advantage of how sweet the comedown always is with you.

“I think I oughta drink more of that coffee,” you say out of the blue, taking Joel completely off guard as he finishes wiping up your… spill. 

“Why?” he asks, trying to maintain a normal tone.

“I swear, Joel,” you whisper as if there’s other people listening in. “I swear that coffee is the reason I finished so… intensely,” you finish, your eyebrows raised in intrigue and curiosity. 

“You really think so?” Joel asks, a victory smile threatening to escape him. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I think we should test it out. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?”

“Well, I am now.”

End note: The article Joel stumbled upon is a real article LOL. Here it is, in case any of you were interested. The article is from 2023, so by all means, picture 56 year old Joel. I’m imagining him a bit younger in this lil AU, but there’s no explicit age description, so imagine whatever the hell you want😘. And in case you were wondering: yes, he ends up telling you about his intentions behind wanting to drink coffee first. Let's just say... you both end up getting hyperfixated on trying to "prove" this theory even though you both damn well know what the result is. ;) All my love, I hope you guys enjoyed.💚

Be sure to follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to stay up to date with my stories!!

Utilizing my taglist a few more times just to have a slow transition to my updates blog! @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

[txtaetertots]

hopelessly devoted. — choi beomgyu x fem!reader

status COMPLETE (230619 - 240807)

cw/genre swearing, twt humor bc twt humor, banter, bullying, SLOW BURN, slice of life, romcom, probably gonna be corny hfdjjz, social media au w/ written parts, also pls ignore time stamps they're not important nor accurate lol

synopsis choi beomgyu has spent his entire senior year slacking off and causing mischief. but, due to his inattentiveness, his slacking off went too far and if he doesn't improve the grade in his literature class he'll guarantee himself a seat in summer school. yn has big dreams to be on stage and star on broadway. however, she needs to impress recruiters with one last production as the lead in order to earn herself a spot in a new york based school. when beomgyu's literature teacher makes him join their drama club for extra credit, their futures quickly become intertwined and dependent on each other.

featuring le sserafim members, hanni (newjeans), bahiyyih (kep1er), ocs, and mentions of others

taglist CLOSED

profiles four and a half girls, the nba (benchwarmers), others

note my first social media au on tumblr !! hopefully it's an enjoyable read :')) i have so many ideas for txt aus i can't wait to share them! i'm most excited to share this beomgyu one so i hope you all enjoy ♡︎ - yuri

Acts

01. report and block soobin

02. nyu decision day

03. second review

04. spring production (written+)

05. i'm sandy

06. auditions (written)

07. cast list from hell

08. wtf mr. kim (written)

09. welcome to hell

10. first read through

11. perfect harmony (written+)

12. it’s just a little infatuation

13. it’s just coffee

14. annoying friends (written+)

15. cruel and unusual punishment

16. the deal

17. shameless

18. very interesting

19. it comes so naturally

20. awfully close

21. please believe me

22. predicament

23. nopenopenope

24. i’ll kick you

25. it’s just a kiss (written+)

26. it’s called method acting

27. long time no talk

28. apology(?)

29. focus on me (written)

30. beomie

31. i never said that

32. yeonjun and soojung

33. soulmates

34. you’re the one that i want (written)

35. mixed feelings

36. everybody talks

37. yunjin’s plan

38. baby jungie

39. i don’t feel so good

40. you’re not who i thought you were

41. i’m not a bad guy

42. yeonjun and beomgyu

43. one last date

44. best friends and brothers

45. my love

46. we’re done

47. last day

48. the promposal (written)

49. the aftermath

50. beomgyu’s aftermath

51. friends night

52. hiyyih tells all

53. regroup new plan

54. please forgive me

55. the truth comes out

56. operation: save yeonjun

57. getting ready

58. opening night (written)

59. yeonjun’s aftermath

60. the decision

61. because of you

62. the last curtain call (written)

63. nyu tisch

64. make it count

65. best choice

66. will you help me?

67. dress shopping

68. prom (written)

69. scariest mission yet

70. we go together (written) [end]

Epilogues

summer travels | new york bound | happily ever after

© txtaetertots

[miasmal-sweetness]

Needle in to a bug (part 2)

I recall being told years ago that many surgeons have an unusually perceptive sense of touch, able to feel and palpate things that others struggle with or can’t feel at all. I think that could describe Derek.

Also, I know why it’s usually not mentioned wtf a kidnapped darling does when they need to pee, but I personally prefer it. Being able to just use the bathroom and clean ourselves up plays a big part in feeling human and dignified for so many of us. Whether they’d treat it like nothing at all, enjoy your humiliation, or degrade you for just having human needs, I think it would all stress me out way more than getting slapped around a lil bit every now and then.

Summary: 4.7k. You finally get the chance to move around and learn more about Derek, but he’s studying you, too.

Alt summary: Your hot surgeon is really hands-on and gives you the worst sponge bath you’ll ever have.

Pairing: yandere!Derek Stiles x reader x (in the future) yandere!Victor Niguel

Warnings: author’s medical trauma is showing, general medfet, kidnapping/captivity, bondage, urine (but like not in a sexy way, it’s just there), reader refers to having a period, noncon, violence, use of pet names (princess, honey), general yandere and obsessive behaviors

part 1 part 2 part 3

MDNI – NSFW – 18+ only – take care of yourself

Needle in to a bug (part 2)

You’re still sleeping. You breathe quietly as your eyelids flutter. You’re dreaming, and Derek hopes it’s of him. Whether it’s of him holding your hand, fucking your brains out, or slicing you open, it doesn’t matter—he just wants it to be of him. Derek glances at your throat. The blade has left red circles on your chin and chest, but it doesn’t look like you tried to scream at all, and that brings a smile to his face.

He hopes this means that you’ll adjust quickly, but he’s not against the idea of you putting up a fight, either. You could squirm and swing at him, and he’d smack you in the face and shove you on to the floor and—he’s getting carried away. Derek clears his throat and adjusts his glasses; heat is flowing from his neck up to his face. And down to his pants.

You’re here. You could help him fix that. And it’s tempting—but you’re still healing, and he also hasn’t had the decency to feed you yet. Derek pinches his thigh in an effort to calm his raging libido, before kneeling down beside you and smoothing some of your hair out of your face. He always thought you were cute, even when you two first met, but you look adorable when you’re sleeping.

He should have just taken you back then. He gave you a pass and didn’t kill you because you were so sweet, and then you were smart enough to not come back for a while. He thought he wouldn’t be so soft this time, that he’d rip you apart and be done with you, but then you had to go and look so adorable while he was cutting you apart.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” Derek coos, running his finger down your cheek. You eyes flutter open, showing only your white sclera for a moment, before your eyeballs roll to the correct place and slowly focus on him. “How are you feeling?”

He knows you can’t speak without getting hurt, and he knows you’ve likely forgotten in your current state. “I—” You wince and whimper when the blade digs in to your flesh, and you snap your mouth shut to try to end the pain.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” Derek says in a tone that is far too chipper. He undoes the leather collar around your neck, returning your ability to speak. “Better?”

As if you fear the ghost of it will manage to hurt you, you hesitate, slowly opening your mouth to test it before actually speaking. “My—my back hurts. My lower back.” Your sacrum is both numb and aching, likely from the pressure of being against the hard tub for so many hours. The pool of your own urine underneath it only added to the damage.

Derek doesn’t want you to get a pressure ulcer. Those are nasty and annoying to heal. Even so, you haven’t been here that long. “If you behave,” he begins, touching his finger to the irritated red spot on your chest. “I can let you move around a little bit.”

You immediately nod. Ugh, that hurts. The back of your head feels like the skin is ready to slough off.

“No running. You stay by me the whole time unless I give you permission not to, okay? No screaming,” he lists, tapping the spot on your chest with each new rule. “No silly ideas.”

“Okay,” you quickly agree, eyes wide at the thought of actually getting to move. Maybe you can’t escape with him right next to you, but you can at least get your bearings and start mapping the place—and take some pressure off your sacrum and head.

Derek smiles at your agreeableness and reaches down to pull you upright. It hurts; if anything, you expected relief, but you were only met with more pain. Your muscles are already sore and stiff from being contorted behind and underneath you for so long, unable to stretch, flex, or extend. Your hips click loudly. Your knees pop. You can feel cold urine running down your skin and it makes you want to throw up a little, but there’s nothing in there for you to expel.

“I should get you cleaned up first,” Derek muses. He’s unfazed by what a fucking mess you are. He’s a doctor, a literal goddamn surgeon, of course he isn’t bothered by the sight of your red skin and dried blood and urine all over you. The mats at the back of your head. The indents and edema left by the rope he bound you with. The fluid that oozes from the flesh he tore in to. This is the reality of the human body, a reality he is very familiar with, and one that he can now make a personal show of through your trembling little form.

You’re stupid for expecting hot water. You’re dowsed with ice cold water from the shower head and you suppose you should just be grateful that it isn’t a tub full of it, but you’re not. Urine, blood, and sweat run off of you and flow down the drain. He’s careful to avoid wetting your sutures; those need to be cleaned differently, he says, but you already know that, right?

Derek runs a rough, soapy washcloth up and down your arms. You’re shivering like he’s dunked you in an ice bath, but you haven’t complained, at least. His gaze trails down your spine, to the blooming red over your tailbone, and he presses his fingers against the center of it. As he expected, your skin doesn’t blanch from the pressure, but you do wince.

“That hurt?” Derek asks automatically.

“Y-yes.”

Of course it fucking hurts, it’s a pressure injury, but it made his cock twitch to hear you say it. Derek isn’t gentle when he scrubs your back or washes your hair with his soap and shampoo that just dry you out because he isn’t the kind of guy that has figured out how to take care of all that yet. Even he can tell that you’re in need of something gentler by how tight your skin feels now, but you’re still pretty soft, so it’s not that big a deal.

He drags the washcloth down to your inner thighs. You jump and wriggle, your limbs instinctively trying to lash out at him, but you make no progress. The ropes around your wrists and ankles might be wet, but they’re still tied tight around your limbs.

“You’d rather get an infection?” Derek mocks, pressing the harsh cloth in to the soft skin of your thighs. “Do you think that would make me stop?”

“No,” you whimper, averting your gaze. “I-I can do it myself.”

“No,” he mumbles, his eyes fixated on the soap running down your mound, “I don’t think you can.”

He was already harsh when he washed your back, and he was even worse when he started scrubbing your inner thighs and folds. Fuck. The soap burned and this washcloth was made of sandpaper.

“Stop,” you hiss, squeezing your thighs together. “That hurts!”

Derek mutters something you can’t hear past the water rushing out of the shower head. He doesn’t even look at your face; he just forces your thighs apart enough for him to wedge his hand in between them again. And then you see that his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are parted as he takes in deeper and deeper breaths.

“Stop,” you plead again. It’s no longer just the washcloth against you; you can feel his fingers exploring, teasing, prodding. You should have known, you think. You should have known that the man who cut you apart and kidnapped you and tied you up would be a fucking pervert, that he wouldn’t leave you with any kind of dignity intact. You feel your hope of escape draining from your soul when you look in to his eyes. He won’t look at your face. He looks exactly like the kind of man who could cut a person open, take out their heart, and feel nothing about whether they lived or died.

The kind of man who would never let someone go if they had even the slightest chance of fucking up the life he crafted for himself.

“I told you to stop!” you screech, throwing yourself against the wall of the tub in an effort to escape his touch.

“No screaming,” Derek reminds you. His eyes lock with yours for only a second, long enough to remind you of the rules he laid out for you. He shoves his index finger in to you without any warning and thrums. You’re squirming and writhing and whining, your face red from salty tears stinging your skin. You feel hot and soft around his finger, even with how cold the water still is. “You’re tight. I wouldn’t be able to pull out if I tried.”

You don’t hide your disgust at his words; not like it matters when he just keeps staring at the finger he pushes in and out of you. It’s invasive and gross, and there’s nothing you can do about it except cry and growl and sniffle. He’s done after just a few more moments; he clears his throat and does a little shake of his shoulders, like he forgot himself. He looks at your face now and smiles, smiles like the kind doctor you met years ago that you would have never expected to be a probable murderer and rapist.

“All clean,” he says with a grin. “Let’s get you dried off.”

The towel he uses is as rough and miserable as the washcloth. His bathroom might be fancy, but he’s still a young and clueless single man who doesn’t know the first thing about maintaining a home. He tousles your hair dry, inevitably filling it with more knots, and doesn’t bother to brush it.

“Remember the rules,” Derek said, grabbing the ropes around your wrists. “You said you’d be good.”

“I will be,” you assure, leaning away from him.

Derek leans closer, of course, and tightens his grip on your bindings. The soaking wet rope scrapes away a layer of your skin. “I mean it,” he warns, “Don’t test my patience, princess. I use most of it for work.”

You feel his breath on you. You want to spit in his face—he’s certainly close enough—but you also don’t want to die yet, so you simply nod and bat your lashes at him. He looks at you for another moment, but finally undoes the ropes around you. You immediately shift in place and bring your hands in to your lap to stretch.

“Don’t get too excited,” Derek says, rising to his feet. He looks between your hands and your hair, and ultimately decides to pull you up by your hair instead. Punishment for your scream earlier, he thinks as he watches you wobble in your attempt to stand. “I can’t let you keep your hands and your eyes.”

Your eyes widen, and you hide your hands behind your back. He was going to amputate them? “I—n-no, I—”

“Not like that,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling as he watches your plight. He looks so genuinely happy in this moment; he’d be pretty cute if he weren’t joyful over your suffering. “Come on, princess. Follow me.”

Like you have a choice. Your feet feel heavy and borderline useless from pins and needles as you stagger after him. You get only a glimpse at the bedroom connected to his bathroom before he throws a blindfold over your eyes. No use in fighting it—you’re too weak on a good day and still shaking from the shower.

“And… there.” He’s slid something over your hands. Mittens, by the feel of it; the kind of soft restraint you sometimes saw applied to patients who kept grabbing at tubes and lines. They’re soft and useless and utterly harmless. The most you could do is bat at him like a kitten would at a toy. “You can stretch and move your legs, but stay by me, honey.”

You grimace at the pet name—a pet name you probably would have enjoyed before all this shit—and nod. He guides your covered hand to his arm and has you hang on as he leads you further in to his apartment. Your plan of learning the environment has failed. Your head is too foggy from pain and drugs to keep track of how many steps you take or the turns you take. You’ll have to try again another time, if there is one.

Your foot catches on something soft—a rug, you realize—and Derek is nice enough to catch you before you can bust your face open on his living room floor.

“Careful,” he warns, placing your other hand on his arm.

“I can’t see anything,” you grumble. You’re pouting like a kid who was scolded, and it just gets worse when you realize that and hate yourself for it.

Derek pulls you towards his couch and lets you fall against the stiff cushions. It feels like a couch that was bought for looks over function and that badly needed to be broken in. There was no wear on the fabric, something you could feel even without putting your hands down, since this man did not have the decency to give you your clothes.

Maybe your period would strike and you’d bleed right on his fucking couch. You bet it’s a white couch. Judging by his bathroom, his apartment is probably a soulless, monochromatic bachelor pad that costs an absurd amount to rent; a place that looks more like a picture in a magazine to advertise one of the three pieces of furniture in it than a place anyone actually lives in.

“You can relax,” Derek tells you, seeing how rigid you are. Back straight and tense, legs squeezed together; you’re even tightening your core. You look pretty cute—it’s not like he’s immune to what it’s doing for your tits and waistline—but also pretty uncomfortable. “I’m not going to do anything to you right now, princess. You sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.”

The thought of your captor continuing to hang out next to you on his couch that felt like it was stuffed with books wasn’t appealing, but somehow the thought of being entirely alone here was worse. You tried grabbing on to his arm, but the mittens don’t allow you to actually grip anything. Still, he feels it and chuckles at your attempt.

“Cute,” Derek purrs, “I’ll be right back, honey.”

Honey. Princess. You feel his weight leave the couch as the saccharin sweetness of his voice leaves an aftertaste in your mouth that makes you grimace. You run your mitten-covered hands over your thighs in some attempt to soothe yourself and then pat the cushion you sit on. Stiff. You can hear the roughness of the fabric. You can hear his footsteps, too; he’s awfully loud for a criminal.

You hear liquid splashing, the sound of a fridge door opening and closing. What was he going to bring you to drink? Your mouth was so dry. IV fluids did not feel the same as oral hydration. A cold glass of water would be heaven in liquid form—but what were the odds he’d actually give you that?

He’d cut you open. Peeled your flesh back and toyed with your sinew. Probably took a fucking souvenir, unless you in your entirety were that souvenir. Assaulted you while he bathed you, bound you so you couldn’t scream without a serious injury, and left you without the dignity of being able to use the toilet. This little excursion, his offer of a drink, were both more likely to end in more pain than anything that could restore some of your humanity and comfort.

Your anxiety grows in your chest as he approaches. You feel the air pressure change around you; he’s to your… right. Leaning over you, exuding warmth. Cool glass touches your lips.

“Here,” Derek says, pressing a glass to your mouth. “Drink up.”

It’s fizzy; you feel bubbles popping and misting your face. It smells sweet. Your thirst outweighs your fear, and you take a hesitant sip that quickly turns into a desperate guzzle when you recognize it as lemon-lime soda.

“Slowly—you’ll upset your stomach, princess,” Derek laughs. You can already feel your stomach expanding from its shriveled state and starting to ache. He pulls the glass away from you; you follow it, but lose it immediately. “You can have more in a little bit. If you do well with this, then we can see about moving to full liquids. Okay?”

He tilts your head up, holding you by your chin. He can’t look you in the eyes like this, but he can still see your quivering lip. “Okay,” you breathe.

“I’m going to get a few things to clean your incision. In the meantime, you should stretch,” he says, pulling his hand away. “And make sure to take deep breaths regularly. I don’t want you getting pneumonia or a blood clot.”

“Okay,” you say again, in a strained voice. He’s leaving you here? Alone? Your hands might be soft and close to useless right now, but even you can bat off this blindfold with enough effort.

“I’ll be right around the corner, cutie,” Derek warns, his finger tapping the shallow wound on your chest. “No silly ideas.”

That makes much more sense. He leaves you on the couch to bitterly stretch out your tight calves. You can hear him rustling around somewhere nearby; any attempt to leave will end in tears.

He speaks to you like you’re a patient. Not only like you’re a real patient in a real hospital, but like you don’t know this shit anyway—like you don’t work at the same stupid hospital he does, the hospital that doesn’t pay you enough to afford real medical care, so you end up going to coworkers that are kind enough to treat you even though you can’t pay and they fucking kidnap you. Greatest goddamn hospital in Angeles Bay—in the nation, even—and they won’t pay their non-physician staff members a wage that would afford them something so basic. Caduceus was evil enough just for that without Derek slicing and dicing in their empty units.

You thought he was nice, once. When he worked at Hope Hospital and he saw you needed help, he pulled you aside after you refused treatment and offered to help you at no cost. It wasn’t an emergency, so you just had to come back later; he’d take you to the little office he worked out of for this and treat you. And he did. Your desperation paid off, and you left with the hope that you could be like him and never lose that kind of compassion when you started your career.

You wanted to be like him, as disgusting as it is to admit that now. You ran to him for help again. Let him put his hands on you once—a murderer’s hands—and then asked for more.

You slouch forward and let your mittens touch the hard floor beneath you. You’re stretching, technically. The fold is hurting your belly, but it distracts you from your thoughts, at least.

“Feeling any better?” Derek asks as he approaches you again. You look like you’re broken in already, and it’s better that you can’t see the overjoyed grin on his face at the thought of that.

“A little,” you mumble honestly. Your muscles feel ten times better, although your back is still a tad sore.

“Good, good,” Derek chirps, guiding you back on to the couch. “I’m going to clean your incision so it doesn’t get infected. All you need to do is lie down, honey.”

You stay put, bringing your hands close to your chest and your arms over your abdomen.

Derek’s eyes narrow in the slightest, but he remains smiling to keep his voice sweet. “You can have more to drink after this, princess—if you’re good,” he bribes.

That’s enough to get you to behave again. You lie down on the couch, and it feels only a little more comfortable than the tub. You twitch each time a package rustles as he readies his equipment. A bottle opens—antiseptic. Paper rustling—a box of gauze. Plastic peeling—a transparent dressing.

You hiss and bristle when icy antiseptic runs over the inflamed incision on your belly. One of his gloved hands grips your thigh, as though he’s trying to steady you.

“Breathe and relax,” Derek orders, running a new piece of wet gauze over the wound. “You’ll be fine.”

The kind thing to do before dressing a wound is provide pain medication. You are not in a position where you are afforded any kindness, so you bite your cheek and accept the pain of antiseptic sinking in to your flesh. It dries quickly, at least, and he’s soon applying antibiotic gel and a transparent dressing.

“There. It shouldn’t need to be changed for a while, if it heals normally,” Derek says, peeling off his soiled gloves. “I think I promised you a drink, right?”

Your brain digs up a memory at that word—promise. “You promised something else, too,” you say in a weak voice. Your incision still burns, and the dressing feels itchy and sweaty.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You said—before you left, you said you’d tell me why,” you remind him, sitting up from the couch.

Derek sighs and adjusts himself so that he’s sitting down on the floor in front of you. “I did say that,” he mutters, furrowing his brow. His smile returns to his face and voice, and he rests his hand on your knee. You’re still cold to the touch; probably from low blood sugar, he thinks, so he gives you another sip of soda. “You want to know why I took you as my patient?”

You grit your teeth. “Why you kidnapped me and tortured me,” you whisper.

“Well, I’ll admit that my ways are unorthodox,” Derek says, tapping his fingers against your thigh. “And maybe the medical board wouldn’t be thrilled with me—they’re pretty clear that they don’t want us pursuing our patients.”

What the fuck is he talking about? You widen your eyes behind your blindfold and think that he’s somehow crazier than you thought—again. “Pursuing? Do you… Do you think this is romantic?”

Derek laughs. “Are you asking me, Derek, or are you asking Dr. Stiles, the man who cured GUILT?” He grins at the sight of you swallowing.

“You,” you quickly say, “I’m asking you. I want a real answer—please.”

“So polite,” he praises, just as you expected. “I think it is. You’re the one person I’ve changed my mind about killing, after all.”

That’s not romantic, you think and nearly say aloud. You don’t want to know how he’d respond. Instead, you ask, “Why did you try? Why did you change your mind?”

“You were an easy target,” Derek admitted, letting his fingers freely wander up and down your thigh. “You know, I mostly get older patients. They’re used to this. They’re calloused, inside and out. But not you; you’re still young and soft. Softer than normal. I’ve operated on hundreds of people, but you felt… different. Like an actual human, not just another body on my table.”

He leans his face against your thigh; his cheek feels hot, so hot you think he’s actually blushing as he murmurs this delusion against your skin. His fingers brush against the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis; it tickles, but you’re too focused on his words to react. He’s murmuring it like a confession of a crush, rather than a confession of how much he wants to see you suffer.

“It felt incredible to touch you like that,” Derek breathes. He presses his lips against your thigh, gripping your legs in place when he feels you lean away. “You don’t need to be shy with me, honey. I know you need me, too.” He drags his lips over your skin, his fingers trying to pry your thighs apart.

“Stop,” you whimper. You raise your hands to push his head away, but he grabs them by their straps and pulls them to the side. “I don’t want this! Just let me go and I—”

“Won’t tell anyone, you swear,” Derek finishes. The warmth in his face is gone, as is his smile. “I’ve heard this before, princess. You aren’t clever. Now, I’m going to give you another chance because I know you’re scared. Try to be good this time.”

Refuse again and he’d tie you back up. And probably worse. You can’t stop shaking as he kisses up and down your thigh, like he’s your lover and not your captor. You want to throw up every ounce of your drink, but the most you can do is pathetically try to pull your hands away from him.

“Be good,” he says against your flesh, “I won’t need to hurt anyone else if I can just feel you, princess. Think of all those people you’ll save.”

If you weren’t so panicked and weren’t blinded, maybe you’d see the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes widened. Maybe you’d see his lower lip tremble and the desperation he held back in his kisses. Maybe you’d realize it’s been a long time since he was last given someone’s vulnerability, instead of taking it by force. But you can’t see him, and he’d never admit just how much he wants to hear you moan.

“I don’t want you,” you spit, twisting your hands out of his grip. “Get away from me!” You tear at the blindfold, managing to push it above one eye, when you hear him laugh and feel his hand leave your thigh.

“Well, that’s too bad, princess.”

You’re grabbed by your hair and dragged kicking and screaming across the floor of his living room. He’s taking you back to the bathroom, back to that stupid fucking tub. You gnash your teeth at his hand when he reaches for your face, but it only earns you a slap across the face. Fuck, that stings.

“You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” Derek growls, tightly gripping your chin in his hand. You squint your half-revealed eyes up at him; your cheek is bright red and starting to swell from his strike. “If you want to keep acting like a bratty little girl, be my guest, but don’t expect to get anywhere. I don’t reward noncompliance.”

You wriggle and thrash and bite and yell and it gets you absolutely fucking nowhere because he flips you on your belly and ties you up before you can so much as blink. The Healing Touch. The power that made him a surgeon above all other surgeons—the power that probably made it possible for him to get away with murder all these years.

“We could have had fun,” Derek laments, dropping your rigid body back in the tub. “And I would have been nice at the end and given you your pain medicine, but it seems like you’re refusing my treatment… So I guess we’ll try again tomorrow.” He’s all smiles as he speaks, and you’d give your life savings to smack that stupid grin off his face.

“Fuck you,” you gnarl, glaring up at him.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Derek straps the bladed collar around your throat and takes the blindfold off from around your face. You grit your teeth as you glare up at him; he can see every bit of fire and poison in your eyes, every unspoken curse you want to spit at him, and every ounce of fear that keeps you from opening your mouth with a blade at your throat and his presence threatening your life. “There. Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow. See you in the morning, honey.”

And he leaves you. You’re back in your porcelain prison, counting ceiling tiles again and trying to block out the pain going through your body. You should have kept your mouth shut and gone along with it; all you did was delay the inevitable.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Golden Pince-Nez pt 2

Oooh map! We have the map. I love maps.

This is a really weird looking house, though. I mean, those two corridors just go from that 1 room directly to either the outside or to the guy's bedroom? That's an unusual layout.

Love that we have a little x to show us exactly where in the room Smith's body was. O Willoughby, Willoughby, Willoughby Smith. We didn't know you and now you're a stiff. O Willoughby, Willoughby, Willoughby, say, From whom did they come, those golden pince-nez?

Apparently a very visually impaired woman whose eyes are remarkably close together and whose nose is rather wide, according to Holmes' assessment anyway.

We saw the cold winter sun rise over the dreary marshes of the Thames and the long, sullen reaches of the river, which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islander in the earlier days of our career.

Do we know about the Andaman Islander? Am I forgetting something? Is that from one of the novels rather than the short stories, because it's been a long time since I've read those. Also, Watson is clearly feeling uninspired this morning. This is probable because he was up until stupid o'clock last night and then had to be up on time to catch the morning train before breakfast. Poor life choices.

I saw an intent look pass over Holmes's face. “You say that she must have come back this way?” “Yes, sir; there is no other.” “On this strip of grass?” “Certainly, Mr. Holmes.”

Alright... so there's something off about the marks in the grass. The grass is only bent in one direction, perhaps? Idk how tracking in grass works. You know who you need?

"This garden door is usually kept open, I suppose? Then this visitor had nothing to do but to walk in."

I like locked doors. The idea that anyone could just walk into my house at any moment is very upsetting to me. It is the role of the door to prevent that from happening. I could not live like this.

(I literally just tried to undo something and deleted more than half of this post, wtf Tumblr? I will try to reconstruct it from memory)

"Halloa! what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson. Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?” The mark which he was examining began upon the brass work on the right-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four inches, where it had scratched the varnish from the surface. “I noticed it, Mr. Holmes. But you'll always find scratches round a keyhole.”

I was going to defend Hopkins at this point, but then I read that the scratch was 4 inches long and presumable fresh, so nope, sorry, can't help you there. That's kind of a key piece of evidence.

I wonder if the professor is an alcoholic...

Sorry, couldn't resist that one.

"Halloa, Hopkins! this is very important, very important indeed. The Professor's corridor is also lined with cocoanut matting.” “Well, sir, what of that?” “Don't you see any bearing upon the case?"

So many Halloas in this part.

I expect the bearing is that it means the murderer could also have left down this passageway without their footsteps being heard. Which raises suspicion of the Professor.

It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes, which had overflowed from the shelves and lay in piles in the corners, or were stacked all round at the base of the cases.

Interior decor goals. I mean, I almost live like this already, but still, goals.

The bed was in the centre of the room...

(From This Tumblr Post)

Clearly the Professor is evil. No one else could sleep in a bed like that, unmoored from the world, surrounded by space, adrift from good reason and sanity.

I have seldom seen a more remarkable-looking person. It was a gaunt, aquiline face which was turned towards us, with piercing dark eyes, which lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. His hair and beard were white, save that the latter was curiously stained with yellow around his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid the tangle of white hair, and the air of the room was fetid with stale tobacco-smoke. As he held out his hand to Holmes I perceived that it also was stained yellow with nicotine.

'Curiously stained with yellow' > proceeds to immediately explain why it is stained with yellow.

"I can recommend them, for I have them especially prepared by Ionides of Alexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I have to arrange for a fresh supply every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, but an old man has few pleasures."

This guy... this guy imports 1000 cigarettes a fortnight. 1000 a fortnight. That's over 70 a day. That's 3 an hour if he doesn't sleep. 4.5 an hour if he gets 8 hours a night. Sure, the internet tells me it takes about 5 minutes to smoke a cigarette, so he isn't actually chain smoking. He could totally smoke more. Really the take away from this is that he needs to work harder at this and stop his reliance on such unnecessary things as oxygen.

70 a day... yikes.

And he knows it's bad for him, too. What? 40 years before the first study in the US saying the same thing? 60 years before it became big news? The tobacco companies really messed with our understanding of things, huh?

Also, the fact that he can afford to import 1000 cigarettes every two weeks and still has the money to have servants, a nice house, and a secretary. This guy has way more money than any academic I've ever met, that's for sure.

“Alas! what a fatal interruption! Who could have foreseen such a terrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that after a few months' training he was an admirable assistant."

Maybe it's because of how unpleasant his introductory description was. Maybe it's because it was preceded by the implication that the murderer could have got into his room unheard. Or maybe it's just that he asks a rhetorical question here and I can never hear a person in this sort of a situation say 'Who could have forseen such a thing?' without my brain automatically answering 'You, I bet.' But Professor seems sus.

Or maybe it's just his bed.

“I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light where all is so dark to us. To a poor bookworm and invalid like myself such a blow is paralyzing. I seem to have lost the faculty of thought. But you are a man of action—you are a man of affairs. It is part of the everyday routine of your life. You can preserve your balance in every emergency. We are fortunate indeed in having you at our side.”

Yep, super sus. That's way too much complimenting of Sherlock and way too much insistence upon his own infirmity.

I observed that he was smoking with extraordinary rapidity. It was evident that he shared our host's liking for the fresh Alexandrian cigarettes.

I suspect that this is for a different reason from the one Watson is thinking, but also NO HOLMES, do not be sucked into the 70 imported cigarettes a day pipeline.

“That is my magnum opus—the pile of papers on the side table yonder. It is my analysis of the documents found in the Coptic monasteries of Syria and Egypt, a work which will cut deep at the very foundations of revealed religion. With my enfeebled health I do not know whether I shall ever be able to complete it now that my assistant has been taken from me."

okayokayokay Tentative theory:

The professor's research is based on a lie. Everything he's worked on is based on some incorrect fact about a historical 'she' being somewhere or not being somewhere, and he has (or had) evidence that it was incorrect in his desk. WIlloughby worked it out and was breaking into the desk to get the evidence when the professor snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the neck, then scarpered back up the passage-way as fast as his tar-filled lungs would let him.

“I am a connoisseur,” said he, taking another cigarette from the box—his fourth—and lighting it from the stub of that which he had finished.

OK, now that is chain smoking. I really hope there's a reason for this and it isn't just a weird thing ACD put in for no reason.

"What do you imagine that this poor fellow meant by his last words: ‘The Professor—it was she’?”

That his research was a house of cards, built on nothing but hot air. That he was a fraud and his thesis fabrication. That his entire life's work would be worth more as kindling than as an academic paper.

Maybe I'm basing things on vibes again, a little bit. Sorry.

“Susan is a country girl,” said he, “and you know the incredible stupidity of that class."

Nope. Fuck that shit. Not sorry at all. I hope the Professor is guilty. Patronising, classist, intellectual elitist piece of shit. I'm all-in for Team 'The Professor Did It' and even if he didn't do this crime, he's definitely done some other crime somewhere.

“Possibly an accident; possibly—I only breathe it among ourselves—a suicide. Young men have their hidden troubles—some affair of the heart, perhaps, which we have never known. It is a more probable supposition than murder.”

Yeah, because stabbing yourself in the back of the neck is such an efficient way to do it? No wonder your research is so terrible when this is the amount of thought you put into things. Wow.

An accident? How very Final Destination of you.

“But the eye-glasses?”

Fine. Those I can't explain. Maybe they were what was hidden in the drawer and Willoughby found them? But why would the professor then leave them in plain sight? Maybe if Willoughby was the only person who knew what they meant?

So, secondary theory. The Professor's work is still rubbish and based on lies, but it's not Willoughby who found out, necessarily, it's some unknown woman with terrible eyesight and eyes very close together and a big nose, and she came to confront the professor then went missing. Willoughby knew about her going missing, but the professor claimed she'd never been to see him and the pince-nez are the proof the professor was lying.

And the woman is... dead in a ditch somewhere?

Needs work.

“Ah! I am only a student—a man of dreams. I cannot explain the practical things of life."

Oh shut up with your false modesty nonsense. Ugh. You're terrible.

...he continued to walk up and down for some time, lost in thought and consuming cigarette after cigarette.

Is Holmes trying to get through the Professor's entire supply so he has to order more? Wtf?

“Tell me, Professor Coram,” he said, at last, “what is in that cupboard in the bureau?” “Nothing that would help a thief. Family papers, letters from my poor wife, diplomas of Universities which have done me honour. Here is the key. You can look for yourself.”

Well obviously he's removed anything incriminating from it now. Pah

“It depends upon those cigarettes that I smoked,” said he. “It is possible that I am utterly mistaken. The cigarettes will show me.”

I have no idea how the cigarettes are involved in this, I confess. Is the professor involved in a smuggling ring?

I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked, a peculiarly ingratiating way with women, and that he very readily established terms of confidence with them. In half the time which he had named he had captured the housekeeper's goodwill, and was chatting with her as if he had known her for years.

You mean he's good with people? Good at talking to people? Particularly women?

*side-eyes adaptations*

Is this the passage that they had in mind when they did that whole Enola Holmes lawsuit?

“I suppose the Professor eats hardly anything?” “Well, he is variable. I'll say that for him.” “I'll wager he took no breakfast this morning, and won't face his lunch after all the cigarettes I saw him consume.” “Well, you're out there, sir, as it happens, for he ate a remarkable big breakfast this morning."

Is he keeping a secret woman under his bed? Does she sneak in and have breakfast with him?

So weird.

"Well, it takes all sorts to make a world, and the Professor hasn't let it take his appetite away.”

Because he's a terrible human being.

Alright, at the end of this part, my current theory is that the Professor has some kind of secret meetings with a woman with very close-set eyes and terrible eyesight. Willoughby found out and the Professor lied to him about it, then Willoughby found the woman's glasses in the drawer and the Professor, or the unknown woman, killed him for it. Who she is, why she was meeting the professor, why it was so paramount that no one find out, I don't know.

Also, the Professor's research is terrible and founded on lies, because I just want him to fail at life.

And there are cigarettes... or something.

Yeah... there may be some gaps. I'm working on it.

[retphienix]

I figure I'll be saying nothing unusual in the slightest but-

I have, overall, helped 3 separate tenno on their journey over the years in 'more than minor' ways and a few "sticking points" have become.... extremely painfully obvious in doing so.

Because when *I* was progressing through warframe, I wasn't afraid to just say "Fuck it, later" to whatever line of progression got too annoying- but when you're specifically trying to match a friend and do the same content they are doing, you can't always say that.

So things that just rolled over me and didn't have vast impacts on my experience because I simply came back when I felt like it were EXTREME STICKING POINTS for many of them- to the point where what I would initially call "Minor ideas to improve progression/grind" are now seeming more and more like "MAJOR FLAWS IN PROGRESSION THAT COULD REALLY USE ALTERNATIVE AVENUES".

And again- these things weren't that annoying For Me, but they were EXTREMELY annoying For People Who Wanted To Match Where I Am NOW, and to be frank, I agree in that context- like why the fuck are these parts of the game so bottlenecked in mediocrity.

And again again- I understand warframe as a whole has design decisions built around slowing the player down, prolonging progress, and generally not being "too" rewarding in an effort to profit off inconvenience.

I also fucking hate that, btw, I hate that we live in a time where games just do that, but I digress because this conversation is slightly more "Yeah, you could and should change that" than me just saying "Be a perfect game."

Rambling and not editing the above: The fact that the modern game still has the horrendous setup for how Fortuna/Vox rep works, where you are expected to MAX fortuna in order to even begin meaningfully doing Vox stuff like Profit Taker, where Fortuna STILL TO THIS DAY has no reasonable grind for specific bonds- with Medical Bonds being tied to ONE bounty at a low drop rate in a low amount while needing a lot of them as tribute to rank up- good luck getting our bestie to sell you enough of them or even affording that-

-or where in order to get remotely close to current stuff you have to do all the old quests, then spend a week grinding SPECIFICALLY for necramech stuff (POST NERF WHERE YOU CAN BUY DAMAGED PARTS!!!!) which DEMANDS players go fishing and mining to an extreme amount in a location that has FAR TOO FUCKING MANY DIFFERENT FISH AND ORE AND NO GOOD BAIT IN COMPARISON TO OLD OPEN WORLDS LIKE WTF IS THAT DESIGN DECISION WHEN MINING AND FISHING IN CETUS/FORTUNA IS LIKE 99% OPTIONAL FOR OPTIONAL STUFF LIKE AMP UPGRADES, ZAWS, AND KITGUNS???

-or where you ALSO have to dedicate time to grinding a fucking railjack of all things- the most MEANINGLESS mainstay in your entire arsenal by all accounts and I say that as a huge RJ fan! What does it do!!!? NOTHING! Arch can speed you up in open world! Necra can trivialize open world! RAIL! DOES! NOTHING! WHY DO YOU NEED IT FOR THE QUEST BEYOND "It's a sense of progression that you earned this :)" NO!!! STOP!!

-or even just the BASIC fact that in order to do FUCKING STEEL PATH- you know, that basic step in progression that opens up a fuckton of potential in your kit and like almost all worthwhile content is best done in steel path? Yeah? GOTTA DO EVERY SINGLE NODE! What a MEANINGLESS task! I mean it!

---

Anyways I'm just ranting I think.

Fortuna/Vox is a busted ass rep grind- there is no reason you should need to MAX Fortuna rep in order to do VOX stuff, that's just ridiculously put together and outdated. I'd bet money, because I was FUCKING THERE, that the entire reason it's STILL like that is because they were desperately trying to delay people grinding Vox rep and doing Profit Taker because, spoiler, PT wasn't there.

They made the max rep a requirement because the content behind it didn't exist yet, and then the content released bugged as fuck so they never adjusted it. It works now but too late! Keeping the STUPID fucking rep progression as is!

Forced fishing and mining (on the worst planet to do it on to boot) for KEY QUEST PROGRESSION is just fucking stupid- oh hello Necramech.

Forced Mech and RJ just to do New War is also suspect because both of them practically just get a cameo appearance in the fucking quest, yet MAJOR PROGRESSION is tied to finishing both, cool.

And *I* enjoyed clearing all the nodes. I also wasn't in any hurry to do so. But why the fuck does every single player need to complete like 250 nodes of the same handful of gametypes in order to just do SP? Ridiculously outdated and needs trimmed, either in total missions period or in what's required.

/rant because having to tell people who enjoy warframe "Oh yeah.. uh... yeah you HAVE to do that" and hearing them go "....Seriously?" fucking sucks./

[suns-blood]

First impressions ratings of the new (and old) songs

Overcompensate- Still a really fucking good song. out of the singles it is by far my favourite

Next Semester- not really my usual taste, however this slaps extremely well. it is THE song made for live shows.

Backslide- aaaughh.. 10/10. a close, and like a REALLY close second

Midwest Indigo- i LOVE the instrumental, however the vocals sounded weird to me at first. i'm sure i'll get used to this though, i just can't comprehened new music at the moment. i have absolutely no idea what this song is about.

Routines in the night- the chorus sounds REALLY fucking cool. obsessed with the instrumentals as always- also it sounds very top? idk how to explain it but some parts of this song are very much twenty one pilots. like yes, tyler joseph and josh dun ARE definitely the authors of these songs. also the piano at the end. FUCK

Vignette- WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT. THE FUCK. HWUH??? okay first of all does not sound as top as ritn does. however- this goes so well???? what the fuck did they put in this song? heroin??? the weird ass synth riff?? i want this song tattooed on my brain

The craving- immediately not a fan of the whispering but that's my misophonia speaking not me. it sounds. different. than the single version, but maybe it's not? was the single also acoustic? nevertheless whenever they make an acoustic song a part of me dies /pos

Lavish- WHAT THE FUCK 2.0. HOW CAN THERE BE SO MANY TOP 1 SONGS IN A SINGLE ALBUM. THIS HAS NO RIGHT TO GO SO HARD. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, MR TWENTY ONE PILOTS. this will absolutely get stuck in my head and i am not opposed to that. the vibes are so weird in this one. insane. also how can a mood be androgynous

Navigating- not to sound like a broken record but wHAT thE fuCK. this might be like the ONE song i ACTUALLY relate to on a level DEEPER than the mariana trench. can't wait to lose my shit over this while it's blasting on max volume. aslo who let tyler sing that well? who is responsible for that? WAIT HOLD ON THAT WAS THE SONG THEY WERE PLAYING AT THE START OF THE NEXT SEMESTER MV

Snap back- okay now i'm DEF a broken record bc WTF but also how can they keep outdoing themselves on a single album? i'm def just high on emotions rn but it usually takes a few listens to get me THIS on board. like holy shit the range this man has i am going to throw up. THE MELODIES. THE BUILDUP.

Oldies station- the song is good, don't get me wrong, however right now not LOVING this as much as i am for example vignette or lavish. wait hold on the weird distortion and instrumentals during the bridge are kinda fire tho. hold on this might just win me over. and at the end also. but OH how i wish they would've used samples from rab songs (or maybe they did and i didn't notice)

At the risk of feeling dumb- this sounds. weird. just weird. or like. unique. or unusual. BIG FAN tho. like this is incredibly catchy and OH MY GOD THE BRIDGE AND VERSE 2. I AM GOING INSANE, okay yeah this is quickly climbing the leaderboard

Paladin strait- okay okay okay so this is. this is gonna be it. nothing can prepare me for this. oh my GOD THE HARMONIES IMMEDIATELY HAVE TAKEN ME OUT I FAILED: I PERISHED. also can you guess which part of the song is my favourite. yes it's the bridge, of course it's the bridge.

the ending. okay yeah what the fuck.

final thoughts: no screaming, no sad piano song, the ending was not the hds intro, 0/10

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

484 of 2023

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner)

I had an appointment with the work doctor and she made me hopeful for a better tomorrow.

we sold some items online.

I did some groceries in a Polish shop.

I saw a fairly handsome tram driver today. WTF is wrong with me lol.

met some of my favourite workmates.

If you found out your ex had a new partner, would you be upset?

Why would I? Actually, I would be happy if he did. I really want nothing but his happiness.

How many friends do you have, whose name begins with G?

One. Used to be two lol.

Do you like anyone atm? What if you found out that someone else liked them too?

Too late, I've already claimed him as my husband.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom?

Does a hotel bed count?

Have you ever had sex on your bedroom floor? How about your living room floor?

No and no. Most of our bedroom space is occupied by our bed, and our living room has a tile floor.

Where is one place you’ve thought about having sex, that might be considered unusual?

I never think of having sex, unless in a pure 'ew' way.

Have you ever received a compliment about any of the clothes you’re wearing?

Yup, several times. Which is weird lol.

When you kiss someone, do you like to play with their hair?

Ew, kissing. I don't even like kissing.

Why did you hug the last person you hugged?

Because I can. Just told him I love him while doing so.

Do you ever find it difficult to put your thoughts/feelings into words?

All the time. My verbal expression is terrible.

Have you ever loved a song to begin with, but then you listened to it so many times that you ended up getting sick of it?

Yeah, quite a few times. Took me years to revisit it.

Time for some questions about you and your significant other/crush. What is something you like, that he/she doesn’t like?

Science. He finds it incredibly boring. Also, cinnamon. And going out.

What is something he/she likes, that you don’t like?

Video games, movies and seafood. Football. Steak.

Something you both like?

Having our personal space. Sitting next to each other while each of us does his own thing. Comfortable silence. British sitcoms. Fries.

Something you both dislike?

Chocolate lol. Drama queens. Romance.

Do you regret sleeping with anyone?

No, I don't. Why would I.

Did anyone comfort you the last time you cried? What was your reason for crying?

Too many questions like that lol, in every single survey. Too much is too much okay?

What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed?

Biologically impossible lol.

What’s the weirdest dream you can ever recall having?

I don't know, my dreams are always about trains, empty landscapes and cities, abandoned buildings and all, so pretty dark. Maybe the weirdest one was that I jumped off the train.

Is there anyone that likes you, other than the person you love/like/are with?

I have no idea. Even if someone does, no one told me about it lol.

Did you wake up in someone’s arms this morning?

Nope, my husband was at work already.

What was the last thing you spilled on yourself?

Coca Cola, and the worst thing was that I was wearing white that day.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing?

I'm not wearing any shirt.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed?

My hair is too short lol.

Have you ever lied to the person you love/like?

Not consciously. There's no point anyway, he can read people really well.

Who is the 9th contact in your phone? Have you ever hugged/kissed that person?

Burger King, obviously lol. You kidding me right?

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it?

Yeah;, I know he meant it.

If the last person you kissed told you they loved you, would you believe them?

Of course. He doesn't say such things often, though. He rather shows love through his actions.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about?

Okay, but I don't remember what I was thinking about XD

Do you still tell your parents that you love them?

Yeah, why wouldn't I? Maybe not too often.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with?

Yup, I say it to my friends all the time.

Random fact about the person you love/like?

His father was born in the UK.

Have your parents ever disapproved of anyone you had a relationship with?

No, they were just not too happy with the fact I like guys.

Anything else you would like to say, to finish?

Thanks, bye.

[fingfamily-blog-blog]

The Continuing Story

Things, as noted in my most recent posts, have settled in a bit with housing and work. But nothing stays still. This experience is comparable to childhood. The days are long and full of discovery. Everything is new, and patterns which become established are still susceptible to all manner of refinements. For example, my landlord has, on successive days this week, delivered wifi, a tv, and a washing machine. Next, tomorrow hopefully, a refrigerator. These upgrades have made the new house even more comfortable. Also, I'm learning by trial and error. For example, yesterday I went to a recommended grocery in a heavy tropical rain. I didn't have too much to carry home, but my arms were full of my school stuff as well. When I'm out of wifi shot, though, I can't order my Grab car (my Uber). So I asked the cashiers at the store, may I sign onto the wifi, to call for a car? Their answer was a definitive, confounding, "No." I was like, WTF?! So, I walked to a nearby hotel, which I knew was there, and used their free wifi. After I spoke with Alice (my wife) about this problem, she told me to get a SIM card, to have a phone, rather than depending on wifi. I had no idea. So I spoke to Ibu Yusnita (who laughed at me when I called her my "minder") about that, and we're going to buy me a burner phone next week. That should save me some agitation. Yesterday, I was beckoned to Jakarta by the program, for the required Post-Arrival Orientation, one month late. I understand that the circumstances at the US Embassy in the last month have been unusual, but the lateness of this two-day meeting is an indication of the problems I've encountered - and I expect I will continue to deal with - because that's the way these things go. Alice told me to complain. But I just want to make sure I get paid (and recompensed properly for all the receipts I've gathered over these first 5 weeks) and not hassled too much in the process. My personal issues remain petty compared to the continuing repercussions of the Kanjuruhan Stadium riot and disaster in Malang and Jakarta. I spoke with another class of students (adults, PhD candidates) yesterday and one of them shared an especially shocking story (which I am skeptical about, but repeat for what it reveals both about the police and the citizenry). He said that witnesses from the stadium have been beckoned by news agencies to tell their stories, and then when they arrive at their appointments, are taken by the police, and "disappear." The news agencies deny beckoning anybody. I didn't go too far into that story, but it sure shows a marked distrust of the police. And if you've read the recently released book "We Have Tired of Violence," about the life and death of Indonesian lawyer/activist Munir Thalib, you know the military has used this tactic, and others more brazen, before. That it may be the police this time reminds me of the Pete Townshend line, "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss." The two-week investigation, which was initiated after the tragedy, has been moving forward. But I find it hard to believe that 14 days will be enough time to look into the many institutions involved. Even so, action has been taken, according to today's Jakarta Post. "The Soccer Association of Indonesia (PSSI) had earlier banned the Arema FC organizing committee chief and a security officer from soccer for life." And three police officers are facing charges, as are the head of the Organizing Committee and the Chief Security Officer of the Arema FC. So the fall guys are in place. The question remains whether the population will be satisfied with these heads, or if they will expect more. I asked my students if they thought that further popular unrest was possible, and the answer was indeterminate. I think everybody senses that this is not over and that grief can turn to anger at any point - because so many innocent people died. The number I've seen throughout the week was 187. But the banners around town (and I'm seeing those banners spring up everywhere now, not just around campus) are saying 200+. Also 300 people were injured. That's 500 casualties at a soccer match. Again from the Jakarta Post, the police are saying they shot the tear gas canisters to keep more people from taking the field (which I posit is not a good reason, considering how many people were already on the field) and that 11 officers shot a total of 11 canisters. Two police officers were killed, but many more are accused of refusing to help those who were injured. The Chief of Police in Malang has lost his job already. Nine officers have been suspended, and 19 are under investigation. The nation's professional soccer league remains suspended at least until the end of the investigation. And, although I'm no fan of FIFA, they will have some say about punishment, because they ban the use of tear gas or firearms at any stadium where they sponsor events. Indonesia was set to host a FIFA under-20 World competition in 2023. That may not happen. I'll keep writing about this as I learn more. And I'll be posting some entries that were written before these last two. So chronology is a little wonky...

[areislol]

I could potentially see babysitting a baby as a random daily quest. Maybe reader gets a commission or a close friend needs them to care for their baby for the day. Reader doesn’t know how so enlists the help of others. Perhaps genshin men such as: Childe, Thoma, Diluc, and Itto? Gender-nuetral readers tend to be my preference. If you want to write genshin women as well, maybe: Barbara, Keqing, Xiangling, and Xinyan? Just offering ideas, it’s up to you who and how many to write. Have a nice day.

ft — childe, thoma, diluc, itto warnings — just chaos :) a/n — i am in horrible pain. i was finishing up childe's one(didn't finish the rest yet) n chrome literally updates so all my work is, poof.. anyways, enjoy!! <3 make sure to take care of yourself!! Also im so sorry for postponing everything, i’ve been procrastinating and i did a sci and eng exam and it was overall really stressful and it has been really busy. I’ve also been playing genshin more often(someone help me defeat raiden cuz wtf??)

recommend listening to: heaven can wait - michael jackson

childe x reader

now getting commissions wasn't something that just occurred monthly, but rather DAILY

so when a lady who had two toddlers asked you to babysit them for her as she had to go somewhere for a few days you couldn't just say no!

that poor lady looked like she really needed a rest and when you agreed the woman's face and eyes lit up as she continuously thanked you and cried.. happy tears?

you had absolutely NO experience with taking care of kids so this was kind of exciting to do

you knew that if you didn't ask for help, you were going to end up looking(and feeling) like that woman :(

so yes, you called for childe and here he is.. looking unusually happy..

"childe you look so happy.." "well im with my best friend so..!!"

you two both walk over to where the woman's house was and as soon as you knocked on the door the poor lady opened it almost immediately and she looks so relieved to see you

but obviously didn't see childe

"oh thank archons! thank you for being here.. i'll make sure to pay you well!!"

the woman rushes out holding her basket and bag in her hands

childe turns to you as you looked right back at him, shrugging you and childe walk into the house

when you walked into the house, you expected to witness a messy and a very unorganized room but instead you were met with a rather clean and modest room

it was nothing like what you imagined..

you and childe walked into the house and decided to just look around for now

while walking around you both heard giggles, loud. giggles.

the moment you two heard the giggles you froze

"was that a giggle?" "sounds more like a cackle to me" ".."

yes, you slapped childe

and yes childe pouted while rubbing his cheeks

did you feel bad for him? ... maybe(not)

anyways

you and childe walk towards the sound of the giggles and open the door

there, two children stood on the bed, they were jumping and were laughing

they turned to face you and childe and grinned

"they're here!" they say while looking at each other and then jumping off the bed

they run towards you and grab onto your legs

"mommy said that people were going to be here!! are you people?" "ah.. yes, but we have names you know!"

you two spend like 5 minutes running around trying to catch the children who were running away and eventually catch them

childe gets hit in the process.

and you laugh at him

and so does the children.

you took the kids outside for a walk and obviously childe came with you

the children kept on running away and trying to catch the butterflies and that results in childe having to run and stop them

while you're there just watching everything

when it was dinner time, you and childe were bickering about what to give them

you nor childe knew how to cook. so childe went out to buy some food - not for children food*

when childe gave them the food they went HYPERACTIVE, running around and screaming

at this point you and childe were used to it so you two just laid back for like 5 minutes before eventually getting up and getting the kids

at the end of the day you and childe look absolutely exhausted and distraught

when the mother finally came back you opened the door quickly and said your goodbye's

you grabbed childe and ran

the woman didn't even say her thanks, nor her gift for you taking care of her children

"y/n! what are you doing-" "shut childe, we need to get away from that devil house!"

"devil house, you mean that house where we had to babysit those demons?" "YES!"

you and childe never want to experience that ever again. you still love kids those, just not.. extremely hyperactive and crazy kids

childe would also laugh whenever the child fell or cry, that results in childe getting whacked behind his head <3

there was also a time where you were taking a nap with the kids and they feel asleep right beside you and you too, fell asleep

when childe came back he witnessed something that he never knew would make him blush and make his heart swell

that very moment childe swore to protect you forever, well he always did.

maybe he wants to start a family with you?

thoma x reader

thoma is 100% good at babysitting, trust me on this one

if you didn't know that, well now you do!

thoma is a house keeper, what do you expect???

anyways, today your friend decided to take a break and go adventure out for maybe 3-5 days

she also asked you if you could babysit her child, you were the only person she could trust after all

"hey y/n, im going to take a break off work and go adventure out near inazuma - and in that case i need you to babysit my kid, is that okay with you? you're the only person i trust so.."

"oh- uh, sure! no problem :)"

will she pay you though-

how could you say no to your friend who've helped you so much?

and not to mention her cute baby <3

which!! you're going to be babysitting!!

lets cut to the chase, you go over to your friends house and they invite you in - after a few minutes of chatting your friend leaves for their adventure and leaves you with the baby

after staring at the baby you realize that there’s no turning back now and that you have to deal with.. it

you sigh as you think about a way to maybe ask for help as you don’t know anything about babysitting nor anything that is related to babies

that was when you realize that thoma’s free today!!

you get up and pick up the baby, you struggled finding a comfortable position to hold the baby so you stuck with holding it with one hand as you secure the baby with your other hand

you walk fastly to where thoma said where he would be and to your luck, thoma was standing outside picking up flowers

you smiled as you thanked the gods, you yell out thoma’s name and wave at him - thoma looks up and is surprised to see you running towards him while holding a… baby?

“thoma! over here!!”

thoma drops the flowers he was picking and runs towards you while smiling

even when thoma had a bad day or whenever he’s not feeling it, just seeing you makes his day

“what are you doing out here y/n? you know how dangerous it is out here.. And also, why do you have a baby?”

you explain everything to thoma and ask if he could help with babysitting

thoma (obviously) accepts your help and invites you inside the home he’s taking care of

“ah, thanks thoma! I appreciate your help :)” “no worries y/n! always happy to help”

thoma then explains to you everything that you need to know and to his “surprise”, you still dont understand so he makes it his mission to teach you everything

he teaches you how to change the baby's diaper which you both hate but still have to do anyway

thoma teaches you how to make baby formula(?? If that’s even possible) along with baby food

taking care of this baby for a few days was no easy job, as it involves the baby refusing to take a shower - which ends up with you and thoma chasing the baby around the bathroom as it runs literal BUTT NAKED

after catching the baby you settle the baby down while thoma grabs the bucket full of warm water and gets ready to wash the baby

it was a cute little experience while washing the baby, but what made you red most of the time there was that how domestic the act was, it felt like thoma and you were like actual parents and the thought of thoma being your husband made you smile and giggle

“what are you giggling about y/n?” “huh-? giggling? im not giggling..” “pfft- sure you’re not”

it was honestly a mess trying to feed that damn baby, the baby kept on swatting the spoon away which caused the food to be flung everywhere and cause a big mess

“and here comes the- ah! you just swatted the spoon away!” “y/n, it’s okay, we can clean this up!” “sure sure…”

you secretly despise the baby though im not sure about the “secretly” part..

thoma was the one doing most of the work, cleaning the babies mess, changing the diaper, cooking the meals and washing the baby with you

though taking care of this baby wasn’t as fun as you thought it would be, you still enjoyed the experience! and it was all thanks to thoma :)

the way thoma looked so concentrated while trying to feed the baby, the way he ACTUALLY looked like he was a father made your heart flutter

this was too cute for you, and the way thoma allowed the baby to chew on his clothing made your heart hurt even more(IN A GOOD WAY.)

seeing the drool was a bit disgusting, other than that every act that thoma did made your heart go absolute crazy

What you didn’t know was that thoma was thinking the same exact thing!! even if you don’t like babies and all, you still cared for the baby despite it being a whole menace.

and thoma too, blushes at the thought of you two being parents and the thought of you two.. having a child..

you two can figure that out on your own.

diluc x reader

diluc is a very wise man

he knows how to fight(abyss mages n hilichurls), wipe wine glasses and pour people grape juice /hj

today, you got a commission from who you assume was a single mother as she commissioned someone(you) to take care of her kids as she was too busy with work and no one was there to help her look after and that she couldn’t trust anyone except for the adventures in the adventurers guild

you immediately accepted because you felt bad for the mother and decided to babysit them just for a day

you told diluc about the whole commission and how excited you were to babysit a cute little baby but diluc said otherwise.

“and i just bet the baby’s going to be so cute and all!! right , diluc??” “hm, well that depends on how old the baby is.. and sure it might be cute but trust me y/n, you won’t like babysitting at all.”

??? what do you mean diluc >:(( babies are so adorable and fun to take care of!! right..?

well everything changed when you went to fetch the kids and saw everything shredded into pieces, paper, parts of pillows and their TOYS.

absolutely not.

you just grabbed that baby and ran.

you went to diluc and you explained what you saw

“well, what did i say y/n?” “shush.”

you put the baby down on a stool as you and diluc just stared at the baby, judging it ofc.

“what do we do now?” “I dont know.. you’re the one who took the commission” “WHAT WAS I SUPPOSE TO DO?”

moving on.

diluc went out to get some baby supplies(some towels and some toys..)

you just stayed in the tavern with the baby, you were trying to play with it but the baby would not budge at all. you wanna hold their chubby hands? absolutely not i’ll whack your hands away, you wanna coo the baby while poking their cute little chubby cheeks? I dont think so.

what did you deserve to deserve such treatment…

once diluc came back he was immediately met with a sad looking y/n :(

“y/n? Is everything alright?” “no. no, everything is not alright - this baby keeps on swatting my hands away and they’re hurting my feelings.. my heart is hurting ;(“ “...”

diluc sets everything down and grabs the baby, diluc looks at the baby while the baby looks at him too - honestly, you didn’t know who had the most menacing look, diluc and the baby looked too similar, their facial features looks almost identical. not their actual features - the look on the face looked similar.

they both had a face of an angry cat.

you started smiling like a mad man like damn

“ahem, it’s almost lunch time.” “hm? oh right.”

you nor diluc knew how to cook, diluc knew how to cook some food but he wasn’t an expert in making dishes, you, like diluc knew how to make a few dishes but nothing more

at this point you and diluc are panicking over what the baby should and shouldn’t eat

You and diluc finally settled on the dish “Teyvat Fried egg” - it seemed appropriate enough for a baby

Honestly, diluc was extremely worried for the babies health, though this one was a bit loud and annoying - diluc has a soft spot for babies and it’s no different to this baby.

The baby couldn’t eat the food on his own so you had to feed the baby, giving it the “here comes the airplane, say aaaaah” but obviously, the baby swatted your hand away

If you weren’t hurt before, you’re hurt now.

Diluc notices your sad expression and *gently* pushes you aside, he couldn’t bear seeing your sad face so he took it upon himself to feed this baby on his own without this *stupid* baby making you sad

“Uh, here comes the airplane??” AND GUESS WHAT??? The baby opens its mouth.

Now you’re done fr

“???diluc???” “????howdidthatworkwtf??”

After the baby is done eating, diluc grabbed a tissue and whipped the pieces off the babys cheeks

You cleaned the plates and went over to diluc only to see the baby sleeping on top of diluc and OH MY GOD??

Pls marry me <3 that’s all i ask for like PLEASE

Right there and then, diluc looked absolutely peaceful. and handsome ofc

Diluc actually looked like a tired and worn out dad who has a baby sleeping on top of him and the sight is just: mwa

You smile softly and went to grab a blanket to cover up diluc and the baby

You decided to sleep with them and so you slept right beside diluc

(and you subconsciously grab hold of his arm and then diluc went stiff and more romance stuff)

After the very peaceful nap you woke up and see that diluc nor the baby is there, you panic for a second but after hearing the sound of a baby laughing and a groan you relaxed for a bit

You sat up and walked over to where the sound came from - you then saw a very unhappy diluc letting a baby jump on his stomach

“Diluc…?” “y/n! uhm. enjoy your nap..?” “uh.. yea yea..”

To say the least it was very fun to watch the baby bully diluc but it wasn’t fun to run around just to catch a damn baby who kept on laughing like a demon.

itto x reader

Uhm, first of all, why would you even ask him for your help???

But nonetheless, you HAD to as everybody else declined your help(they were too scared to babysit a literal DEMON(a baby.)??), but who said yes to you? ITTO!! cuz.. He.. likes you..

You were kind of sad because people were refusing to help you EVEN THOUGH YOU HELPED THEM IN THE PAST???

But once itto agreed to help you, you immediately hugged itto tightly and oh my god

He was smiling like a MAD MAN, and of course he hugged you even more tightly <3 itto was almost squeezing the life out of you..

The first thing you and itto did was research how to take care of a kid, surprising isn’t it? Itto’s actually learning!!

(no hate to itto ofc..)

Once you and itto learnt the basics of taking care of a kid you and itto went to where the mother’s place was meant to be

You knocked on the door while itto just stood behind you awkwardly, wouldn’t it be weird if some woman saw a 6-7 foot tall man whose chest is out behind a young person?

*knock knock* “hello? Anybody home?” “y/n- is it really a good idea for me to be here…” “you wanted to help me right?” “well- yes but-” “ah, hello! Im guessing you’re the person who’s going to take care of my kid righ-””............”

ANYWAYS. You and itto get into the house while the mother said her goodbyes and left.

You both look around to find the kids but fail to see anything. That is until you and itto heard a loud thump

?? “what was that.” “no clue, LETS GO INVESTIGATE!!”

You and itto find a kid who has fell off a bed, and some how it wasn’t crying, weird.

You went to grab the kid and make sure that they weren’t injured at all, itto on the other hand just stood there doing absolutely nothing, just watching you skim and scan the kid

“They’re all good” “thank god..?” “yes, yes thank god”

You held the kid while walking out with itto, you decided to sit down for a bit because of all the walking, it was tiring. And of course itto sat beside you, not that you care because honestly, his big bulky figure was enough to make you feel secure but also intimidated

At some point itto said that the kid looked “uncomfortable” and that he would go and get a toy for the kid

“yyy/nnnnnnn””what is it itto?” “that kid looks a bit uncomfy - i’ll go get a toy for him!!” “is it really needed, itto?” “are you trying to say that the one and oni itto is not right?!?!” “...”

Anyways itto went and somehow got a toy for the kid. It was a onikabuto bug toy

And the baby actually liked it!!! Who wouldn’t anyways..

It was time for lunch and you and itto had to make food, you knew how to make some specialties but they weren’t for kids, itto on the other hand, knew nothing.. He just never really had the chance to cook, okay!!

You made the only thing you knew how to make, egg rolls.

It was quite simple and it wasn’t that bad for the baby, once done itto was sitting on the table with the baby on his lap - itto looked like he was the most hungry, eyes staring into the egg rolls soul

You sat down and wanted to feed the baby BUT itto gently swatted your hand away before saying “Because you’ve cooked, i think I, the ONE and ONI itto should feed the baby!!” “if you say so…”

You was kind of sad that you couldn’t feed the baby, you wanted to see the baby chomp down on its food but you guess not(you can still see that but yk, you wanted to do it yourself, guess baby fever hit you real hard)

After the baby was down eating, itto gently smacked the baby back so the baby could burp and do whatever - to be honest, you were surprised that he remember that but just seeing itto do so made you blush profusely, this stupid(cute) oni >:((

You and itto sit down and itto still had the baby in his lap, gently bouncing his leg just to hear the baby’s giggle, it was a very cute sight to see

Itto handed you the baby because he was afraid he would hurt the baby as the baby started to squirm, once you held the baby you cradled, it was almost 9 pm so you decided to rock the baby to sleep and it worked!!

You smiled softly as you looked down at the baby’s face- they looked so peaceful sleeping and looked kinda of angry too(LMFAO)

You got up and went to the baby’s room, gently putting the baby down and making sure that they were comfortable and safe - once down making sure you went out of the room and made sure to close the door quietly

You were then scared by itto who was waiting outside the door

*sighs* “i hope they’ll be fin- AH! I-itto!! What are you doing?” “what do you mean “what am i doing”? Im waiting for you duh!”

You walk out of the hallway and itto follows you like a puppy, you lay down on the couch and god, the couch was so comfy to sleep on!! Itto sat on the couch, you put your legs on ittos lap and itto just lays back and sighs

Though this day was very tiring, you were very happy that itto was there to help you - without him, well.. Things wouldn’t have been as good as today.

But the thing is..

itto could not shut up about how you and him were like a married couple. *hint hint..?*

“And and!! We were like a couple!! A cool one of course.” “uh huh..” “AND! Im the most coolest out of everyone” “:(“ “a-and you too!! You’re cooler than.. *cough* me *cough*”

You’ve done it y/n. ITTO SAID YOU WERE COOLER THAN HIM!! Achievement unlocked.

(but you and itto are both cool together so dw abt him)

note: if you would like to be added to the genshin taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy <3

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!! another note: sagau x reader fic coming very soon!! also event too.. im deciding what to do, the current event idea just doesn’t sit right with me..

[vrisrezis]

My mcu favs w/ crush and relationship hcs (pt 2) (not proof read)

- gonna be honest she’s not familiar with romantic feelings, takes her awhile to even realize what she feels for you

- you make her heart all melty and soft, you make her face heat up, you make her question everything she does

- you make her feel even giddy and overly happy and it kinda annoys her tbh

- she thinks you’re out to get her or something and have casted some spell but when she asks thor he has no idea what she’s talking about until she describes what she’s feeling and he just laughs and thinks she’s joking

- she’s like no. I’m serious ?

- to which thor would tell her what it is, he has a bit of an idea because of Jane

- tbh loving somebody romantically, caring about somebody to this extent scares her

- she’s lost so many people and because of it became a raging alcoholic

- if she lost you she doesn’t know what could happen

- she tries to push you away but quickly realizes she doesn’t like doing that to herself or you

- asks you to go out drinking with her often if you’re up for that

- she’d find it funny how easily you get drunk but has no problem taking care of you, in fact she would probably drink with you more often so she can take care of you because it’s the closest to intimacy she feels she can have with you (no she is not taking advantage of you or anything, it’s more just the thought of taking care of you feels intimate to her)

- also you’re cute while you’re drunk

- trans with you so you can be tougher if you’re not that tough already

- tbh asks thor to do the same with you, whether it be cuz she’s not around or because you need the extra training

- eventually Thor’s at the point where he’s like you gotta tell em and she’s like no 🖕

- but she does eventually

- she’s kinda awkward about it but she tries to sound confident with it ^^

- dating you is very different than just being her friend tbh

- like you might’ve been surprised at her asking you out, even if it’s kinda obvious to anybody that knows her well

- to any stranger you just seemed like friends with a strange rivalry relationship but that’s really not the case

- she’s much more flirty in a relationship, since she’s confident you’re with her for a reason.. she’s not the type to doubt your relationship, you’re with her for a reason

- much more protective in battle though

- she doesn’t say she loves you enough, but she shows it through her actions

- asks thor about the romantic stuff but he has no idea really so she goes to Bruce who kinda has more of a grasp on it

- tries to take you to like normal restaurant dates... kinda awkward since she had no midgardian clothes at that point

- lotsa quick kisses on the cheek or forehead

- likes cuddling as she finds it just.. kinda intimate ?

- still likes to take care of a drunk you

- quick pecks on your lips are very often

- doesn’t like the idea of going on a lot of Thor’s saving the world shits unless you’re on board with it

- thor jokes about how she’s all badass and “I don’t give a fuck about saving the world or anyone else” until it comes to you

- she kicks his ass

- but he’s not wrong

- when she likes you she’s a bit like wtf

- like she doesn’t realize it for a moment until jane explains it

- before she was her usual talkative self but there was a lot of nervousness and stuttering at times, just unusual awkwardness that made Jane raise a brow

- it makes more sense now

- since she’s aware she likes you now she often asks you to hang out, to help her out, whatever it is

- the gal is clingy af what can she say

- lotsa hugs she loves giving you hugs often does them for a greeting

- just an excuse to hold you though tbh

- at times will get tongue tied

- she tries to flirt but it just makes you confused she’s not good at it you’re not even gonna know she’s flirting

- eventually grows impatient about it and is just like “I LIKE U DUMMY! DATE ME!”

- and now you date

- she gets into things a bit quickly so if it’s too fast tell her, hopefully not a dealbreaker

- dates are often because she’s got a lot of creative ideas for dates ^^

- still hugs you as a greeting but a lot longer and intimate and a kiss follows after

- speaking of kisses she LOVES to kiss you and she does so very often

- very needy

- big cuddler

- just like “CUDDLE ME”

- so demanding

- often talks about you and how much she loves you she can’t help it

- but if anybody did the same she like “shut up nobody cares”

- even with you though she’s blunt, but much nicer about it

- likes going on just good dates, restaurants , picnic, whatever

- she eats all the food

- tries to impress you so she might say she was best friends with thor at a point

- and that she’s helped him out before and .. yeah etc

- she likes buying you clothes tbh

- especially if you don’t dress good let her dress you up pls

- would be sad if you didn’t get along with Jane

- it would be a dealbreaker actually

- she knows she’s a bit much so she feels happy you love her anyways

- vision of course will not understand his feelings

- he understands you definitely make him feel something, that something being good

- for a moment he might think he feels like this is how best friends feel towards another, or even thinking he sees you in a familial light

- tony quickly tells him that is not the case

- once vision understands what he really feels he’s not sure how to go about it, he can be quite oblivious

- he’s aware of this but still .. what does he do?

- asks tony for advice, he tells him to flirt and see how it goes

- but tbh that doesn’t work, you don’t even realize he’s flirting gonna be honest

- he’s just bad at it

- so he tries to just simply state his affection, that doesn’t work because he doesn’t know how to word it without it sounding platonic, or getting too nervous about going too far

- he doesn’t wanna overstep boundaries

- tony is in pain watching this btw

- tony eventually is just like “he wants to know if you would like to go on a date” “w- I.. yes?”

- in a relationship he is very sweet

- kinda cliche though, since he doesn’t have a concept of romance at all

- looks up a lot of the things he should know about romance he doesn’t want to ask you that

- while he has no problem protecting you, he doesn’t feel the need to be overly protective unless needed

- he’s logical, reasonable, he only gets protective if he has to, even with how he feels towards you

- but do you distract him? Yes absolutely

- he’s okay with living comfortably and normally for once with you, unless it’s something you don’t want or are not ready for

- once you’re conditioned to a certain lifestyle, even if it isn’t a good one it can be uncomfortable to get out of and he understands that

- he loves to kiss you, often initiates kisses or forms of affection

- you were the first to kiss him, it made him so flustered but so happy and now he’s addicted to kissing you

- loves kissing your hands

- if you have any insecurity he will do anything in his power to prove you wrong and that he doesn’t see you in that light

- he understands he has responsibilities but other than that, loves spending his time with you

- he understands you’re a distraction so he tries not to fight with you, he wants to prioritize the people when it comes to this kinda thing

- which you of course understand

- once you teach him what dancing is, his love language is dancing with you

- you two just stay up talking about nothing and everything

- having kids with him isn’t an option, but he isn’t opposed to adopting children

- after all, all he’s ever wanted was to be a normal significant other to you

- do not have a huge concept on her character so forgive me 🙏

- she can be a bit flirty, not that you mind though right ?

- she just loves spending all her time with you

- probably met you before wandavision

- so you’re probably already together

- even then in wandavision you two were “roommates”

- doesn’t explain all the flirting girl .

- agathas fall would be letting Wanda find out she had a soft spot for you my god

- while she’s all confidence and flirty in general, she’s a bit softer with you

- like she genuinely means the things she says when it comes to you

- eventually asks you to date her, you don’t have much room for dates outside of wandavision

- you two are always together btw

- loves dancing with you

- she has a good grasp on romance so she has no issue with it

- she is full of confidence when it comes down to it tbh

- holds your hand often

- your relationship ain’t official till like the 70s probably

- might joke after wanda has kids that you both should have kids too

- while she’s causing her mischief you back her up to make her look less suspicious

- seriously in the mist of all this she’s grateful for you

- especially when you get her out of the hell that Wanda puts her in once again

- to which she will actually confess she loves you, and cares for you

- you aren’t just like.. some person to date

- she’s not the most vulnerable obviously

- so the fact she finally is.. it’s just a lot

- “idk I just love u a lot hun . Cant I show I love u 😊”

- she’s just so overly sweet with you

- she’s so awful to everyone else at times that she just likes being .. with you and being a softie

- likes you playing with her hair

- she loves a good cuddle

- cute nicknames like hon, or hun, or just teddy bear

- with a crush quill might try to act overly friendly

- and probably flirts a lot

- he’s very like obvious with the flirting so you’d have to be oblivious not to notice it

- he can be quite protective as well

- like not just in fighting but even with just others like even before dating he’s very jealous

- if he makes a joke you’re always in on it somehow

- he tries for form a close bond with you just cuz he likes you so much

- it’s likely he likes somebody that can easily protect themselves doe

- probably has some dumb handshake with you

- honestly he acts like a close friend to you

- people might mistake you for a sibling like relationship if it weren’t for his flirting and him staring at you like you’re his entire universe

- seriously Sam says Bucky has a staring problem, quill is fucking awful

- it’s constant and rocket is always like “you’re staring”

- and he’s like “nO” and then continues to stare

- has you listen to his favorite music of course

- especially the love songs ;D

- will just dance with you to the music he puts on

- one time you guys are dancing to the music he put on like normal but it’s a slow love song, so hes like let’s so dance bae

- and then he tells you how he feels for u

- now u date <3

- lots of forehead kisses

- cuddle bug absolutely

- still a jealous boyfriend though tbh he will try to seem all tough in front of any man he thinks might be better or something he will do anything to show off

- your relationship doesn’t change just lots of kisses and hugs now and I love yous

- you’re totally the relationship that’s like “I love you more” “nooo I love you more” and the guardians hate y’all so much

- he uses nicknames like hun, honey, love, sweetheart

- let’s just say you slow dance more often, and kiss while doing so ^^

- he flirts with you still but it’s a lot more sweet rather than before where he might’ve just flirted with you in terms of like it being kinda like calling you sexy and shit like that, now it’s more like wow u look beautiful I luv u 😊🙏

- would do anything for you, even if he wouldn’t like it

- doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hesitate tho

- going on separate dates isn’t really an option since you guys fight left and right and are always with the guardians, but he decided every once a couple months you guys go on a date together and have some fun

- Loki doesn’t get crushes, so this is a new thing for him

- and tbh he doesn’t know how to take it either, especially when he realizes how strong those feelings actually are

- he hates the idea of being vulnerable in general, especially when it comes to you

- over time it just... happens

- but if there’s any indication he likes spending time with you he will try to lie his way through it, he’s a good liar of course so it probably works

- however he shows he at the very least cares about you, he shows a sign of protectiveness when it comes to potential enemies.. enemies that happen to be dangerous for you

- plus he’s around you like constantly and claims he has nobody else to harass

- he claims he doesn’t care about you at all, but even thor can tell through this lie

- the way he looks at you makes it obvious

- the way he doesn’t try to get you involved in his more dangerous schemes

- and if you do, and you get hurt he feels guilty and tries to help you feel better

- he claims he just owes you one for getting you hurt though

- eventually thor bothers him enough to get him to confess feelings, which takes a lot for Loki to even go through with

- he acts confident, even moreso after you say yes, but deep down was extremely nervous

- the male is good at making you feel important, after trying so hard to hide his feelings he is tired of it and just wants to be more honest about how he feels about you

- no issue being vulnerable, he trusts you but sometimes it can be hard

- he goes to you for a lot of his problems, even if you cannot help, just venting and you listening helps

- he was already with you a lot but now there’s no excuses and it’s even moreso

- “what? I just wanted to visit my beautiful s/o” “we literally just saw eachother 5 minutes ago can I please go to bed”

- likes pressing your foreheads together, he finds it sweet

- jealous of thor? Absolutely. Pls comfort him and tell him you’d never leave him for thor

- he’s so used to just not being as good as him, he wants to be good enough for you

- deep down there’s just so many insecurities he has

- so it causes him to worry like all the time

- having a reassuring and patient s/o is so good for him ^^

- flirting becomes a thing in your relationship

- it makes him feel more confident pls give him this

- protective, he feels like he has to be tbh because he never gets anything good in his life and if he does he loses it, he’s scared to lose you too

- if for some reason he can’t see you he makes an illusion of you to talk to

- when he fake dies you’re the first he goes to see so you don’t think he’s dead, he loves you he wouldn’t want to do that to you =(

- finally

- gonna be honest bucky with a crush is cute

- first of all he smiles at you a lot, Steve is the first to notice how much he smiles around you, it’s the most he smiles like ever

- just has a lot of nice conversations with you about anything and everything

- also whenever you’re around even if other people are around you he’s just like “hey y/n :)”

- heart eyes for you, just can’t help but stare all the time

- he has a staring problem but with you? Yeah 10x over

- Sam always has something to say abt it also

- his idea of flirting with you is really just saying hi to you, just being overly friendly which is noticeable for a guy like Bucky

- eventually would ask you out, he tries to ease into it but he gets a bit impatient

- he was also nervous asking you out but yk

- when dating him he becomes very protective

- one of the most protective bitches on the list tbh

- he gets nightmares about you dying like all the time it breaks him everytime though

- lots of cuddles, whether it be from a rough day, he’s just tired, or had a nightmare

- he likes his hair being brushed by you and played with, even when he cuts it

- he’s scared of killing you and turning into the winter soldier again

- has dreams about when he’s hurt and fought you as the winter soldier, he keeps thinking about if Steve wasn’t there to help, he really could’ve killed you and that terrifies him

- even when you tell him it wasn’t him, he appreciates it but still feels horrible about it

- touch that metal arm, but like gently Yknow . Nobody’s ever touched that arm with such kindness and it makes him soft and feel lucky

- speaking of soft Bucky is very soft, there’s many soft moments with Bucky and vulnerability

- it’s easy to be vulnerable with you but not others

- lots of handholding

- he loves hugging you for long periods of time

- still has a staring problem but now Sam openly makes fun of him

- just big dumb smile on his face as he looks at you

- especially when you’re dealing with kids, seeing you be around them makes his heart warm

- maybe he does wanna be normal, settle down and have kids

- though the thought scares him it is something he desires

- we all know he calls you doll

[dontcallmecarrie]

an idea I had on my commute, because this trope is a personal favorite:

Justin Hammer blinked the stars out of their eyes, not even bothering to move before they got their bearings because last thing they needed was to get motion sickness on top of whatever had been in that weird laser gun Ivan and Victor had been messing with went off.

Ugh. They’d told Ivan to secure his projects better, told them someone’d end up in the hospital, why did nobody listen to them?!

Well. 

At least Winter’d tear them a new one, they could count on that much. If only because they were his meal ticket, but still.

Justin cautiously tried to sit up, and now that the ringing in their ears was going down they caught the last few snatches of whatever the people around them had been saying. 

Because there was now a crowd now, apparently. Joy.

“—ell is going on here, how did he even get here?”

“—rgy readings are all wrong, this makes no sense—”

“—plain to me how a civilian got into one of the most secured locations this side of the Mississippi? Anyone?”

“—ot to be kidding me,” a familiar voice said, “how did Hammer of all people get here? Oh, hey, he’s alive. Hey, Hammer? How’d you get out of Seagate?”

One of these things was not like the others. 

Not that Justin knew what the hell was going on, not when they’d been in a safehouse not two minutes ago, but...this was the first time in their life they’d heard that note of derision in Tony’s voice. 

Aimed at them, anyway, because goodness knew how many rants about Howard they’d talked him through after the accident. 

“Anyone get the number of that truck?” Justin asked with a groan, and didn’t even have to pretend to be confused by the truly impressive number of guns pointed his way as he sat up. “Hey, easy there, when’s the last time you got certified to carry with that type of grip?”

The looks Justin got were...less than welcoming. 

“How’d you get out of Seagate?” Director Fury said more than asked, and just like that, Justin knew what that gun had done, even before an agent looked over with a frown after tapping away at their tablet.

“Sir? Justin Hammer’s still in custody.”

Winter had better be kicking everyone’s ass for this, this was not what they’d signed up for when they’d stopped by with takeout.

.

aka NHDD!Justin crash-lands the MCU, and it goes about as well as expected.

...but to be honest? I’ve been playing with several permuations of this, just can’t decide which would be the most fun to mess with because, I mean, here’s some of the others:

NHDD!Avengers meet canon, wonder wtf is up with this ticking time bomb of a team and canon!Tony’s almost unrecognizable because they’re used to a Tony with very clear boundaries and may not be as heroic, but he’s theirs and seeing a version of him who’s been through the wringer is. Something not great. 

50/50 odds on who picks a fight, because NH!Tony will push back if someone tries to start something, but NH!Steve has even less chill than canon because he’s caught up in a goddamn love dodecahedron and anyone looking at his team wrong gets to deal with all the pent-up stress that entails.

NHDD!Justin meets canon [see above]. Rocky start due to obvious reasons, while Cabal’s scrambling to figure out a way to get them back, Justin immediately latches onto canon!Tony and they may not be a therapist, but tbh they’re pretty damn close sometimes. 

canon!Tony gets a concentrated dose of All the Feels™, feat. “your feelings are valid” and “you are not alone, asking for help isn’t being a burden” and “even if other people think poorly of you, that’s on them, you owe them nothing” and Tony’s very, very sad to see him go.

...this could also be pretty painful for canon!Justin, for reasons seen in this next scenario:

canon!Justin meets NHDD. Cue All The Self-Worth Issues. Because I tried to hint at it in NHDD, but long story short, canon!Justin was kinda set up for failure, between his poor excuses for parents, terrible role models, and the whole “growing up constantly compared to Tony Stark” thing is just asking for a major inferiority complex somewhere in here. So you take this Justin, and present him a world that could be summed up as, “I’m you, but better”? Who has everything he ever wanted, was taken seriously and treated with respect? He’s not going to have a good time.

irony is, it’s absolutely not his fault, either: NHDD!Justin is different not because of his circumstances, but because they’ve got echoes of a past life [...even if they don’t remember the specifics anymore].

on the flipside, the NHDD crew would get a better idea of just how unusual their Justin is, and their secret might get discovered somewhere in this

Cabal meets canon. Cue explosions, and a lot of dark hilarity because this League of Supposed-to-be-Evil-but-mostly-Just-Vibing has way better teamwork than the elite team of superheroes assembled to protect the Earth.

Victor’s probably the snarkiest here, once the shock of “holy shit I knew I hadn’t expected to survive Latveria’s civil war but is this what would’ve happened to my homeland? thanks I hate it” wears off.

NH!Bucky gives absolutely no fucks about shit going down anymore, splits his time between hunting down HYDRA [which seems to be even more of a problem in this hellscape, ugh] and avoiding this universe’s Steve Rogers because self-care is a thing and he has no idea what this universe’s Bucky is up to but he knows he’s probably in not as great a place as he was. 

[seriously-smitten]

Alright everyone. Long time no talk, but I feel the need to say this because I am honestly so upset about something I just saw that was said to another account on here. I will keep it anonymous for respect reasons, but also because I’m sure a multitude of people have experienced this as well and I think this needs to be said for everyone.

So, recently someone accused Remadora shippers of being homophobic and RACIST. As I cannot see where this assumption came from for the latter of this horrendous accusation, I won’t speak to understanding how one can argue with an outrageous claim and I won’t entertain it. The first half is a different, very familiar story.

However, I think we have to take a moment to understand the severity of this. Not just look at it and be like “ugh, how rude” or “that was mean” or “wtf”.

The statement made was wildly, wildly INAPPROPRIATE, and not okay, without fair evidence. Respectfully, I think we can all decide for ourselves what evidence of homophobic behavior is and therefore call out those who commit it.

Now I know, and understand, that sometimes there may be rivalry between different ships. Friendly quarrels and such. However, there is no reason for cruelty. There are many fandoms which I, and others, are a part of. And there are many ships within these fandoms. Some are canon, fanon, popular ships, or the underdog ships, and I’ve been a part of one of these in almost every fandom. I think that’s what’s great about having an imagination and truly appreciating the content we’re given even after the book is closed, the final season or the movie ends. The fans continue it, and it’s amazing to see what creations are born from these fandoms.

When someone, anyone, purposely attacks another fandom or ship, in attempt to undermine, hurt, or make themselves feel superior, you are NOT participating the fandom. You are being unusually cruel and harsh for no reason than to make yourself better. You are a BULLY. And while that feels like such an elementary label, it is true.

Personally, my ships and my fandoms are my source of escape. They make me happy during rough times, and they spark creativity. I can enjoy a world completely all my own, and share this world with others, if and when I want to. I can appreciate the other worlds and bounce ideas off of people I might not agree with, but still enjoy talking to.

When I see others of my fandom, or my ship, attacked with senseless claims such as this, it saddens me. It seeps negativity into my fandom and ultimately into my life. I would never dream of doing something like this to someone because I wouldn’t want it done to me. This might be somebody else’s escape, and to ruin that with needless toxicity is just horrible.

Please. Don’t allow this to continue. Even if you do not agree with a fandom, ship or story that someone has bravely shared with you, then please scroll along. Don’t follow them. Don’t like their pictures. Don’t comment. Don’t participate. Don’t ruin something for someone, that you wouldn’t want ruined for yourself.

Please be kind. Be respectful. And be open to the idea that someone might have a different opinion. There are plenty of people out there and plenty of different creations to appreciate, and you might find someone who isn’t from the same fandom or ship, that will change your perspective. They may become your mutual, your beta or even your friend!

It is not wrong to love Wolfstar, or Remadora, or both! Don’t belittle people for feeling brave enough to say it, and don’t tell someone their love for something is actually a horrible, horrible action and therefore they’re a terrible person. The world right now is full of issues of racism, homophobia, prejudice, and so on. To play that card, simply because you don’t agree, is disrespect to the person you’re accusing and to the people who are actually struggling with those issues.

Just be kind. Be respectful. Participate in your fandom, and appreciate the other ones.

Please.

[allthingsfern]

In order, my responses to comments in Reply of my COVID19 era post that was my answer to my question “My answer to my questions: Has the era of COVID19 changed your photography? How? And perhaps also, why?“ I am so confused now...

adventuresofalgy

Algy thinks you are lucky and - certainly if compared with Europeans - perhaps quite unusual in not having experienced a more profound effect on your creative outlets and expression. Many of Algy's creative friends have experienced wide-ranging and often severe impacts on their creativity and associated motivation - and therefore on their mental health as well.

themazette

As @adventuresofalgy Jenny said.... you are lucky...

I am indeed very lucky, or as I think of it, blessed. However, it is no way a US thing, nor even a California thing. I add California, because I know many in the US and around the world think of the Golden State as a haven, a progressive, hippie filled state that is all about peace and love and marijuana. However, that is far from the truth. California is like Germany in the 1920s and 30s. There was Berlin, where there was a wildness in the city that was not shared, and was often looked-down on, by those in the majority of the country, who lived in more conservative areas and who, often, economically could not afford the grand life of partying Berliners. In California it is the same. Except for a few urban areas, the state is full of very conservative folks, and for them, like for those in the cities (and in the rest of the world) this COVID19 era has been devastating. Well, and the fires for Californians have been too.

Even in this cool college town where I live, which is lovely and quiet and inspiring, the painfully empty streets, movie theaters, restaurants, shops (think of all those unemployed people) is (still) staggering. In mid-March last year, right after lockdown, I took several phone videos of the deserted street in our town and the campus, but I could not bring myself to share them, since I knew that so many others here on Tumblr were experiencing the same desolation in many different ways. (I figured: “Why add to the sorrow we are living, almost globally?”) I was overwhelmed by the emptiness of the major (well, major for a small town of around 65,000 people) street where I live and the empty bicycle trails and street on campus. And by empty, I mean that even now, I see maybe 3 cyclists per hour, and very little car traffic. Remember, this is a bicycle town; I do not own a car, doing most all my errands on my bike with its 2 fordable baskets in the rear.

And now, over a year later, that same heavy, oppressive emptiness persists. And no, I am not used to it. And yes, I traveled over the last year, but I found the same suffocating blanket of emptiness in each city I visited, even in Las Vegas. It was unnerving. As a matter of fact, last year when I drove to San Francisco 2 months after lockdown for my birthday, I wound up getting depressed and disoriented, in a city where I lived for almost 7 years. Driving back home across the Golden Gate Bridge with tears of sadness in my eyes on my birthday was not what I expected. However, I did get some solid photos of the malaise that hung thick in the air, a malaise that physically took up the space that once was taken up by crowds of people.

Now, I am also very aware that my situation is unique. (Not a fan of the word exceptional, since it can mean both unique and special, and I do not see my situation as special.) My life situation is very unique in that I have a job I love and I work with a great team of characters. We get work done and we have fun, share about our lives. My job is often, especially since COVID19 first got noticed in early 2020, stressful and demands my colleagues and I learn (and sometimes then teach) lots of new technology and that we adapt to the vagaries of the technology gods, which are sometimes unfriendly and unresponsive. And a big part of my job is trying to figure out how to get the technology gods to like us again and grace us with their gifts. (I never realized, until now, with this discussion, that the troubleshooting that is a big part of my job is creative and probably fuels my photographic creativity. Who knew?) Yet, as a group, my colleagues and I support each other. And I am fortunate to count my closest colleague, Steve, as a friend. We have been a great emotional support to each other over the years and now through this COVID19 era. And I recently was reminded (as if I needed reminding) just how unique my work situation is because I participated in a committee that was going over responses to a UC Davis-wide survey exploring levels of employee satisfaction. My 2 colleagues who were also on that committee and I did not have the complaints that others from other departments shared. We work well together, have supportive management that share what is going on and include us (as mush as possible) in the decision making process. And as a department, we get stuff done.

Possibly the best example of how blessedly unique my situation is is what happened this morning when I was talking (yes, on ZOOM) with my immediate supervisor. We discussed the work related stuff, including how at around 10:30 pm the night before I figured something out about an online tool integration I had never done before that I knew was easy but I did not see as easy until I reread the overly complicated instructions a couple of times and just figured out how and where to cut and paste the lines of code (it was that easy, just fucking cut and paste some lines of JSON code) that got the fucking thing to work. Then we talked about his dealing with his young children returning to school and how “normal” now is not “normal” from before and how disruptive the whole thing has been, yet since we work in a supportive atmosphere (and are both salaried), he was able to deal and keep living.

Then, and you are gonna love this, I shared about my original COVID19 question post and the responses and pretty much said to him what I am sharing here.

We talked for a little over an hour. That kind of rapport is rare, for any job, anywhere.

And then there is another way my situation is unique. In some ways, previous “bad things” were actually a preparation for this era of physical distance and uncertainty. In mid-2019, from July to August, first because of my work related bowling concussion and then an antibiotic resistant infection, I was bedridden for about 5 weeks and then had several absences because of concussion issues, like sudden and extreme anger flare ups, nausea, headaches. But however bad I thought that concussion and infection were, the concussion induced forgetfulness and my desire to sharpen my mind and nurture and nourish it have lead me to become, in my old age, organized. I now often take notes of important stuff, add work and personal dates and notes to my Outlook calendar, and even know what day it is, which bugs my colleagues who often find they have no idea what day and/or date it is. Yep, unique, but the bad concussion shit got me to be organized in ways that I was never able to be before, no matter what I tried. This time, I just fucking get organized, without thinking about it too much. And if I fuck up with my being organized, like I did the other day for work, I admit it, fix it, and move on.

Preparation for isolation (and unexpected natural threats) came by way of the 2018 Northern California (the region where I live) fires that year, which caused the campus to shut down for about a week. (As my friend Steve called it, the smoking break.) And for work, my colleagues and I faced a couple of long term, emergency technical outages that impacted all of the UC Davis faculty, one of them for over a month. Pretty much on a professional and personal level, I was, if not ready, at least getting used to the WTF of whatever life decides to surprise me with. (And lets not forget the really bad fire last September, seen in this video I posted of ash “snow” falling. We did not have to shut down the campus because there was no one there anyway.)

Another aspect of this last year, and one that has been present in my life for a few years now, is the BLM movement and the brutal police violence against Black people in this country. As someone who was a teaching assistant and taught in African American Studies and worked closely with students of color on campus in a student run organization, I was and am still devastated, in part because I know, from hearing so many personal accounts, the pain many of my friends, former colleagues, and former students, are still facing and how overwhelmed they felt and still feel. I understand, if as an outsider, their emotional exhaustion. This has been going on for a while, plus add the years of anti-immigrant hate against the Latinx in the US and the rising tide of violent hate against Asians, and yes, it has been sorrowful. Heartbreaking. And I have, in several ways, including my photography, tried to capture the sorrow and resilience of US people of color. It hurts, almost physically, that many people of color are just tired of talking and dealing with the hate.

So, yes, my situation is unique, but with its own emotionally draining weight. And yes, I am extremely grateful. This leads to the other 2 comments in Reply:

kkomppa

Thank you for sharing, Fern. Very interesting. Like you, I would say my output hasn’t changed much. However, I have sought locations deeper in the wilderness. This has been fulfilling.

schwarzkaeppchen

Really interesting thoughts. We live in strange times, but creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons. My photography has changed a lot. I used to work as a photographer at events and took portraits for fun... Now I'm officially a portrait photographer.

Both of these comments point to another unique aspect of my life situation: For some of us, our photography and how we do it, has not changed much, and if it has, that has been a part of our overall experience with this art form we love so much.

For me, because of my depressive tendencies, the Zen of photography, at least the way I do it, is therapeutic. And I do not use the  term “Zen” lightly here, because my spiritual life has helped me come to terms with the WTF surprises that are pretty much life, if at times the WTF of it is more impactful, as it is during this COVID19 era. And that is part of what I was trying to share with my original post: Before this period of isolation and disorientation, I was already coming to grips with the gospel truth that “creativity and motivation comes and goes for so many different reasons.” as @schwarzkaeppchen​ said. In no way do I diminish the anguish flared up by these bleak times that impact so many around the world. And really, when you think about it, bleak times have been a norm, at least here in the US, since late 2016, though, of course, lockdowns and physical distance make it all worse. But, at least for me, I try to learn from the bleak times, even if I abhor going through them. And when dealing with the highs and lows of creative energy, at least for me, I have a calm certainty that photography is part of my life and I do not have to worry, since I only love it more each day. And the other side to my certainty is that if someday my love of photography fades, some other treasure of creativity will replace it.

Let’s be real, because of photography. I think about stuff like this and get to have discussions with so many great Tumblr original photographers.

And I am grateful for it, and no, this is not unique to my life situation. I know many of us love being here and sharing the good, the bad, the confounding.

Please think about joining @tvoom and me for InConverversation this month. It has been a long time since we talked, and this COVID19 era will be our topic.

I am grateful for all y’all.

[dehydratedpool]

hello again!! it’s the beginning of a new month, meaning a new fic rec post!! here are some fics that i read this month that are just... exquisite and deserve all the love and attention <3 

there aren’t as many as last time unfortunately, since i was quite busy this past month, but i promise next month won’t fall short! ((fics that i’ve reread this month are indicated with a **))

Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table [11k] by runaway_train @runaway-train-works 

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or; The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

--> this is a new comfort fic for me tbh. i got rec’d this after louis tweeted about getting his wisdom teeth removed, and i’m so SO glad i decided to give it a read. it’s so precious and lovely and personally, i found it to be a quick read. it’s the kind of fic that makes me both warm and fuzzy inside but also highly upset that i’m single and will surely be alone forever

Just Let Me [14k] by HelloAmHere 

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

--> ok LISTEN. as some of you know, i just recently got into reading a/b/o fics and this one is definitely at the top of my fave a/b/o fics out there. it’s an interesting take on the trope, almost a bit more realistic in my opinion, and to quote the author’s note, “’what if a/b/o but less biological determinism?’”. i believe i found this one through a masterpost of “touch-deprivation fics”, so if that’s your thing, give this one a chance!

my ugly mouth kept running [4k] by theankletattoo @hadestyles

Another seed, another try except they know what caused the first wilt. They will be careful, they will be kind and together they will nurture it to life.

sometimes second chances are more important than the first.

--> rori, the author, never fails to disappoint when it comes to all of her works. i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again, she’s so incredibly fucking talented it’s unreal. her imagery is so vivid and real it leaves simultaneously everything and nothing to the imagination. as usual, h and l’s dynamic in this is an addicting portion to this fic that has you anticipating how their dynamic will shift and grow up until the end. if you’ve yet to read any of rori’s work, i suggest you add that to your to-do list for the month, and get a head start to her collection with this one!

**As Wicked As Anything Could Be [21k] by whoknows @crazyupsetter

It starts when Louis decides that he wants to lose his cherry and announces that he thinks the best way to do that is by going to a gay club. Naturally, Harry can’t let him go alone, so he tags along and spends the night rating guys with Louis until someone finally catches Louis’s eye.

Harry shoves him out to dance with the guy, and he can already tell that it’s going to be a quick and dirty hook up, so he’s not surprised that Louis and the guy disappear into the bathroom ten minutes later.

It is a surprise when Louis comes out not even two minutes later, pale and clammy, grabs Harry by the hand and drags him right out the door.

Somehow Harry comes to the decision that it would be a good idea for him to be in the room with Louis while Louis gets laid.

It’s a stupid fucking decision.

--> i discovered this fic a while ago on a whim and i have zero regrets. this is absolutely on my top ten fave fics list (that has yet to exist but perhaps i’ll post it one day). whoknows is a well known author within the fandom, so i’m sure i don’t have to say much about their immense talent, but SERIOUSLY, their plot progression, even their use of dialogue is wonderful in every way. as a writer, i envy them lmao. this fic takes me on a rollercoaster every time i read it, it’s yet another comfort fic of mine and never fails to disappoint every time i pick it up again. please, do yourselves a favor this april and read this.

Keeping The Flame Alive [19k] by whoknows @crazyupsetter 

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

--> yes, for the first time in dehydratedpoolfics history of fic recs even tho i’ve only been doing this for a month i am rec’ing the same author twice, but seriously, how could i not??? this fic took me on a literal journey like... wtf. i have no words. seriously, i have none, i’m just that blown away, go read it for yourself .

**a trail of honey through it all [27k] by bruisedhoney @yvesaintlourent 

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

--> okay look. i may or may not have a slight obsession with this fic. i reread it constantly, mostly for the iconic line, “are we fuckin’ or fightin’?”, because how can i not scream over that?? ((also patiently waiting for the sequel)) this is a literary masterpiece, one that defines an entire generation of this fandom i stg. but in all seriousness, hayley, the author, does such a wonderful job of giving the reader a vivid look into “nowhere, georgia”, and as a southern gal myself, i absolutely adore the itty bitty pieces of southern culture embedded into this, the tiny quirks that make this fic authentic. i could probably go on forever on why this fic is so iconic, but perhaps you should read it for yourself instead *wink* *wink*

SO. that’s all for this month!! if you read any of these, first of all, be sure to read the tags and author’s note (if any) before starting, AND please don’t forget to leave a quick kudos or comment, it means more than you may ever know <3

[hottestthingalive]

Ok, fake tic tittle, cause I love your writing, do with it what you please: “The five times (side) faked their death on purpose, and the one time it wasn't their fault”

Ah, y e s! 

(Cinder from the future here: Sorry this one took so long, anon, I’ve been using these as a sort of reward system for completing school work and I was procrastinating... Hope you enjoy anyways!)

-It’s Roman. It is 110% Roman. 

-DLAMP because he deserves so many boyfriends and so much love, with bonus platonic creativitwins. 

-My ideas for Roman fake-dying are as follows, not necessarily in this order:

-During a performance he’s putting on with the other sides (a musical, maybe?) Roman’s character dies. They all cry. He’s an excellent actor and they’d gotten very attached to both his character and also, yknow, their boyfriend. Patton gives him roses after and tells him how brilliant he was and Roman cries too then. 

-Pretending to die dramatically on the couch when bantering with Jan. “Your words have greviously wounded me, agh, bleh” the whole thing. Janus thinks its adorable, even though he’s simultaneously having this whole conversation with the other sides about “just kicking the body under couch, its fine, we’re imaginary” and roman “resurrects” all offended. 

-Splattering blood all over himself on April Fools and lying down in front of Remus’ room like he was dead (after warning the others so they wouldn’t freak out.) He did it to Remus because he thought his brother wouldn’t care: then Remus is crying over his ‘dead’ body and Roman sits up like “wtf” and then they talk about their feelings and hug it out. 

-Playing dead when sword fighting someone (maybe Virgil? I feel like he’d be great at fighting and stuff, what with fight or flight, and his natural talent would probably be a good match for Roman’s training and skill), falls over and goes very still, Virgil’s like “Roman? Roman?” and leans over to check on him and that’s when Roman ATTACKS and Virgil’s all like “you scared me bad” and Roman’s just gloating that he won. 

-one time for logan’s birthday he sets up this whole murder mystery plot and he’s the mr. body and it’s just very very very silly sherlock holmes-clue shenanigans. The body disappears halfway through and Logan’s having loads of fun figuring it out and Roman appears at the end in the kitchen like “Haha! I faked my death! What do you think of that, Detective?” and then they kiss and have birthday cake and there’s still a picture of them in their little detective/victim outfits over the mantle. 

-and then the + 1.

-angst angst angst~

-So Roman goes off to fight the Dragon Witch in the Imagination. Not an unusual thing. He leaves that morning, sword on his hip, blows kisses to his partners in goodbye, promises to be back by dinner, if not lunch. Remus tells him not to get his butt kicked by the dragon witch, cackling from the couch. Roman flips him off, and then he is gone. 

-He’s not back by lunch, but they think he’s just gotten sidetracked, again. 

-It is only when Roman is still gone by dinner that they get worried. Virgil insists they go looking for him, but if he hadn’t, one of the others would have. They are all worried. 

-(“What if he’s dead?” Remus whispers to Janus, biting his nails frantically. “What if he’s dead, and my last words to him were making fun of him? What if he’s lying alone somewhere, bleeding out in a ditch, being torn apart-”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Janus says firmly. He has always been a liar.)

-It is not the Dragon Witch they find him fighting when they arrive. Rather, it is an army of shadows, faint ideas of villains that must have broken through the barriers between the twins’ Imaginations and encountered the prince instead of the duke, become strong in the passing. The Dragon Witch fights beside Roman, however, and between them, they are just managing to hold their own. 

-They look exhausted. 

-“Roman!” Logan shouts despite himself, so, so relieved to see him alive. Roman turns, distracted for just a moment, but it is enough. 

-And so the prince falls, and the dragon roars, and she is downed not long after.

-Remus screams, and lunges forwards with his morningstar in hand. Later, he would joke he’d seen red, although privately he knows he hadn’t, and that was the problem -- his rose-red brother, his twin, his family, disappeared beneath the creatures which had been nothing more than living shadows in Remus’ realm, empowered by Roman’s fantasies into full-fledged villains before he’d known to stop himself from picturing them as such. 

-Patton has never been so angry before, not that any of them have seen, and his anger makes him strong, his righteous fury fueling him, fighting to avenge his prince. His need to avenge in this place of creation makes him nearly superpowered, his belief in his own ability for vengeance making it possible. 

-Then there is Logan, who has always been able to find the cracks in dreams, who uses the logic of the Imagination against the beings within it. He manipulates the rules so whichever creatures he focuses on are once again shadows, or harmless shapes that float away in the end, or black beetles he crushes underfoot with vicious glee. 

-As for Janus, well, he has long defended Thomas against the horrors of the world with sweet lies, with his own creations that are not quite imaginary but close enough. He too can manipulate the Imagination, but does not find it necessary, instead whirling among his opponents, shifting between forms so quickly it is impossible to pin him down, his shepherd’s crook the only unchanging element of him. 

-And Virgil, Virgil who had vowed to protect all of them with his life a long, long time ago, Virgil who is fast as wind and strikes like lightning, who rages with all the fury of a storm, who knows shadowy villains well, especially the imagined kind, and has always founds them easier to defeat with his family by his side... Well, the army of shadows finds itself battling a hurricane, and they fall at his hand. 

-And when they least expect it (when they are on the verge of defeat, despite all their power, when Remus has lost his morningstar, and Patton has fallen, and Logan is surrounded and cannot unreason them all, Janus halfway between snake and side and entirely exhausted, and the darkness that has long clung to the underside of Virgil’s eyes spread to stain all of his skin and forming a pool around his feet) a sword slashes through the being standing above Patton. 

-“Sorry, hon,” Roman says. He is an absolute mess, bloody and bruised and sporting a black eye, and their prince smiles tiredly, and Patton thinks he has never been more beautiful, for he is alive. It is all over quickly after that. 

“You’re not allowed to do that ever again,” Virgil tells him when they reunite, pulling Roman in a hug and refusing to let him go, and Roman agrees easily. 

-After that, there is no more faking of deaths, purposeful or accidental, in the Mindscape. The walls are eventually brought down between the halves of the Imagination, the Thomassphere permanently changed, and though there are other battles, other wars, Roman always has his family to fight beside him. 

-He wins them all, of course, for he is their prince, their hero, their Roman, and the hero must always live to see the end of their story, and the end of his story is still far, far away.

Ohhhh, that was fun!!! Thank you, anon!

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!