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#but that’s a hard no from me personally either way
barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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atlas || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||
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mapi and ingrid help you relax after a rough week.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
the physical and emotional weight of your workload was dragging you down. mapi was the first to realize it, and once she did, the first person she went to was ingrid. ingrid had a way of relaxing you that mapi knew she couldn't pull off. the woman had a tendency of being a little too energetic for that. however, it seemed that this time, ingrid couldn't really help you either.
they both hated it, but mapi and ingrid had no choice but to wait for all of you to be on a break to bring it up. a lot of things had been happening at barcelona, so you were very busy as social media director. your promotion had seemed like a blessing at first, especially since it meant that you could travel with your girlfriends everywhere that they went. however, all of that travel really cut into the time you had to organize everything else.
"i miss her," mapi sighed as she watched you fast asleep on the couch. it was obvious that you hadn't meant to fall asleep like that with your laptop and several notebooks open. you had been working, despite ingrid and mapi's insistence that you come with them out for the day. they had tried to have a good time, but mapi couldn't knowing that you were still in the apartment.
"it's been hard, especially on her. i mean, look at her," ingrid said as she nodded towards you. mapi let out a little whine as she looked at you. even in your sleep, the stress of your job was evident. they knew that this was temporary, mapi remembered when she first signed to barcelona years ago when you initially had been brought in as an intern. you always had a bit of a struggle starting out, but eventually, you'd find your footing.
"i could cry," mapi muttered quietly. ingrid had just barely heard her. if it was anybody other than you, ingrid would have been deleriously jealous of the way that mapi loved and cared for you. she knew that while mapi had been dating her for longer, you had been in her life longer. you were one of mapi's best friends first, and so, ingrid knew what to expect.
"we can let her sleep, and then do something special for her tonight," ingrid suggested. mapi nodded as she let ingrid pull her away from the living room. you slept the entire day away, waking up only when mapi physically picked you up and carried you into the dining room. you were still very tired as you ate, but the food did a lot to energize you a bit.
"what's the occasion?" you asked, not missing the way that both of your girlfriends were dressed up a bit more. mapi shrugged the question off as she tried to pretend that everything was normal. ingrid, however, was more than happy to give a reason for the little show.
"we are celebrating you, and all of the hard work you've been doing lately," ingrid said softly. she got up to carry your plate into the kitchen for you, kissing the top of your head as well as mapi's as she passed.
"i'm sorry if i haven't been very attentive," you apologized. mapi shook her head as she took your hands in hers. "i've been busy, and i know that you hate being left to your own devices. you need me too, not just the club."
"it's okay, i understand, i do. tonight, don't think about any of that. let ingrid and me take care of you, please bebita." if it wasn't for the way that mapi as looking at you, you might have gone back to your work for the night. "you've been working so hard."
"i'm so tired of it," you admitted. you sounded like you were on the verge of tears, so mapi did what she knew would help you calm down. she dropped your hands to grab your cheeks, pulling you in gently for a kiss. you kissed her back, moaning into it as you felt her deepen it. you sat forward in your seat, like you were prepared to crawl into her lap at any moment. the two of you could have kept going forever like that until ingrid interrupted you.
"come on, let's move this to the bedroom." ingrid guided the two of you away from the table. you broke the kiss with mapi once you were in ingrid's arms, turning your attention to her instead. ingrid picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, walking strong despite the kisses you were pressing to her neck. mapi followed behind ingrid, taking the opportunity to feel her up on the short walk to the bedroom.
ingrid laid you down on the bed gently, and mapi moved around her to get behind you. almost immediately, you could tell how the night would go. it was rare that they both focused solely on you, but you were grateful for the distraction. it wouldn't last forever, but they'd be taking a good amount of the weight of your work off from your shoulders from the night.
mapi's hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently as she peppered the side of your face in kisses. ingrid was laying between your legs, effectively pinning you against mapi's body as the two of them kissed you. it was a lot, but you were more than happy to just go along with whatever they wanted.
you trusted both women with your body completely. they knew the things that you liked, and sometimes, you swore they knew what you needed before you did. on your own, you would have tried to rush things, but they were taking things so slow with you. even mapi, who had a tendency to get a little ahead of herself in these situations.
they took their time undressing you and themselves. the feeling of their skin against yours made it hard for you to think. mapi could tell that you were having a hard time keeping up, so she backed away just enough for you to focus on ingrid. the taller woman kissed you slowly, but it wasn't without an almost overwhelming amount of emotion.
you didn't know how she did it, but ingrid always kissed you with her entire being. from every little peck as she left the apartment to the way she'd completely take your breath away. you swore that you could feel the love and concern ingrid had for you as she kissed you. it was enough for you to get a little lost in the feeling of her lips, but still gentle enough for you to easily slip away if you needed it. ingrid wouldn't judge you, knowing that occasionally you weren't up for this sort of thing when you were stressed.
"you look so pretty kissing ingrid," mapi whispered in your ear. she turned towards ingrid before she spoke up again, "you're taking such good care of our bebita, ingrid."
"i want more, please," you told them. mapi took that as her cue to come back a little more. her hands moved along your sides until you moved them onto your breasts. mapi's fingers teased your nipples as your hips ground against ingrid's thigh. ingrid bit her lip as she felt how wet you already were from just kissing them. it was going to be easy to get you to cum for the first time, and while ingrid wanted to spend all night between your legs, she wouldn't push you any further than what you could handle.
"do you want my fingers or my mouth, bebita?" ingrid asked you. she was usually adamant about not speaking spanish in the house, but that pet name had always stuck. technically, mapi had been calling you her bebita long before either of you had figured out your feelings for each other. ingrid remembered her hesitation about seeing mapi because of you, and in hindsight, she felt a little ridiculous about it now.
"mouth please," you answered. ingrid gave you one last kiss before she moved down to lay in between your legs. mapi turned your head towards her, pulling you into a gentle kiss as ingrid's hands came up to rest on the insides of your thighs.
unlike ingrid's kisses, mapi's rarely ever managed to stay as gentle as they started. the press of mapi's lips against yours quickly turned into something much firmer, not that you minded. you nipped at mapi's lip a little, which earned you a slightly rougher pinch to your nipple than before.
"mapi," ingrid warned. mapi's cheeks heated up at the warning. you bit your lip as she moved around your body to press a kiss to where she had just pinched you. ingrid watched as your hips bucked forward at the contact. she shot mapi a look, one urging for the tattooed woman to stay there until you pulled her back for more kisses.
"do you want this bebita?" mapi asked you. you could still feel enough of mapi's body behind you to feel safe and comfortable, but that need was quickly being replaced by the feel to feel both of their mouths on your body.
"please," you whined. mapi didn't need to be told twice, and she mvoed back in with her mouth at the same time as ingrid. mapi peppered your breasts with kisses as her fingers teased your nipples. ingrid's tongue was making lazy figure 8 motions in between your legs, just barely grazing along where you wanted her to. the two of them worked together well, almost perfectly in sync despite not having had to talk one another through anything.
"shh," mapi cooed softly as she lifted her head a little. the noises you were making quickly began to jumble together. you were whining and whimpering as you started to move more. ingrid didn't want to grab your hips and pin you down, so mapi took it upon herself to kiss you to calm you down. your nails scratched against the side of her face a little, but mapi didn't let it distract her from swallowing up every moan and whimper that threatened to escape from your lips. "you're doing so good, it's okay. let ingrid do her thing."
"fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated again and again. mapi felt your body tense on top of hers, and that was when she knew you were gone. as loud as you could be while being fucked, you always went dead silent when you came. ingrid began to back away, stopping only when she heard you and mapi talking to each other. the little confessions of love after sex were secrectly mapi's favorite. if she was ever asked, you knew that she'd say something cocky about the way you looked cumming on her fingers or strap, but truthfully, she loved the way you curled into her as the two of you showered each other in love and adoration.
"rest now," ingrid said as she took the spot next to you on the bed. mapi slipped away to get something to clean you up with as you and ingrid lazily made out on the bed. you were so tired, enough so that you were ready to fall asleep right there in her arms. ingrid kept you awake and distracted enough for mapi to clean you up and pick out some clothes for all of you to wear to bed.
"thank you, i think i needed this," you mumbled against ingrid's chest. this time, ingrid laid in between you and mapi, both of you with your head resting against ingrid's chest. ingrid had one hand on mapi's back and the other in your hair, both of them scratching lightly. "i love you, both of you."
"we love you too," mapi told you. she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair around her finger.
"whenever you need us, don't hesitate to ask," ingrid said. you glanced up at her and smiled. you couldn't help it, there was rarely ever a time you could remember not smiling when you saw ingrid. "we'll always be here to take care of you, in whatever ways you need."
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inuyashaluver · 1 day
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Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it
I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English
qué? - alexia putellas
alexia putellas x reader
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description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand
warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics
a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️
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you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.
you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.
even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.
you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.
when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.
you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.
and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.
you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.
when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.
“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.
“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.
“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.
“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.
“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.
“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.
during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.
when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.
lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.
when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.
and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.
“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.
“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.
“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.
due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.
what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.
she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.
she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.
weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.
the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.
the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.
one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.
“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.
you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.
as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.
when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.
“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.
her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.
“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.
she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.
the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.
“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.
you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.
“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.
“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.
“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.
you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.
“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.
alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.
“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?
“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.
you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.
when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.
“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.
her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.
you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.
everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.
by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.
when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.
on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.
in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.
she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.
you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.
at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.
“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.
“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.
the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.
“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.
you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.
“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.
“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.
what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.
“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.
that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.
you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.
“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.
what type of rejection was this?
“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.
“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.
“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.
you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.
“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.
“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.
“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.
she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.
you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.
she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.
when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.
now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.
the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.
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you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx
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liked by keirawalsh and 44,232 others
alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)
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yourname: mami
↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this
↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee
lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever
↳ yourname: shut up man
↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!
↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head
↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!
↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft
↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal
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reiding-writing · 2 days
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hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)
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BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/
spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort
spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event
a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-
this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!
climacteric event masterlist!!
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You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.
There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.
“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.
He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.
But you had your breaking point even with him.
The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.
He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.
He didn’t bother you after that.
At all.
There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.
It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.
The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.
Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.
It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.
The child you were looking for died before you found him.
And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.
You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.
You were usually pretty good at that part.
Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.
They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.
With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.
Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.
But you couldn’t do that right now.
Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.
And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.
You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.
You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.
It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.
As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.
His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.
Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.
The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.
You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.
You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.
“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.
You wanted him to leave you alone.
“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”
Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.
If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.
“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.
He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.
“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.
But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.
He doesn’t know what to do.
“Tell me how to help you…”
“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.
He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.
But there’s nothing he can do.
“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.
You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.
He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.
It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.
But he was trying, and that was the main point.
The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.
His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.
He didn’t know how to help you.
He didn’t know how to soothe you.
And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.
But the least he could do was this.
Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.
There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.
Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.
Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.
It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.
“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.
The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.
The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.
Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.
It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”
He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.
“I just wanted to help…”
“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”
Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.
The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.
“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”
You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.
You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.
It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.
Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.
He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.
He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.
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copperbadge · 3 days
Note
I guess you probably get asked why you’re converting a lot but I still want to ask,
I dunno, I don't think I really get asked all that much, to be honest. Usually when I do it's like -- I mention I'm converting to a Jewish person and they'll be like "Getting married?" and I'll explain I'm not, which does necessitate an additional explanation.
It's difficult to vocalize, which is interesting because it has really very little to do with faith, and that's usually the most difficult part of discussing any conversion, I think. Often I'll just say, "I heard a call". Which is actually a rather Christian way of putting it, but I think it's probably the easiest way to explain, especially in a heavily Christian culture.
I had...I don't want to call it religious trauma exactly because compared to most people I know who exited Christianity, it wasn't traumatic -- I was just raised in Christianity and had trouble buying the faith in the various ways it was presented to me, and there's a certain type of ardent Christian who comes at you hard if you're in their church asking awkward questions. A few encounters with some egregious megachurches in my youth left a bad taste in my mouth, so in my twenties I really wanted nothing to do with religion and didn't have the time or energy anyway -- I wasn't actively anti-religion, just disinterested.
But in my thirties I had to ask myself, do I wish to be part of a faith community? And once I'd decided that despite being pretty heavily agnostic I did want that in my life, I had to decide what I wanted it to look like. There are churches within many branches of Christianity that are fine, and there are whole branches that are fine too, but I kept tripping over my disinterest in Jesus. I did almost become a Quaker but although I really like a lot of the Friends' attitudes towards social justice and I enjoyed silent Meeting, it eventually didn't feel quite right for me (the Quakers in my life refer to me as "Friend-ly"). I looked into Zen Buddhism but didn't click with it in quite the way I'd hoped.
Judaism didn't feel perfect, but unlike other faiths, after several years of study I have yet to reach a point where it feels "not for me" in the way the others did after a few months; even when I struggle with some aspects, instead of saying "I don't think this is it" I dig deeper, and Judaism is a place where you can just...keep digging. I like the sense of history, I like the idea that you can argue not only with other Jews but with the divine itself and maybe even win; I don't like arguing but I like that the option is there, which it never was in my Christian confirmation classes. I like the way Judaism frames community and family, I like the emphasis on scholarship and exploration. I've had to unlearn a lot of weird Christian and atheist attitudes about the Torah, but that's been educational too. Ancient cultures have always interested me and Judaism is sometimes the practice of actively conversing with ancient history that has been incredibly preserved but not calcified. I like that I can be an agnostic Jew if I so choose, once I finish conversion.
(Sometimes I joke, "Eh, I'm not really a huge fan of pork, either, so it's an excuse not to eat pork chops," but that's a joke for very specific company. I don't keep kosher or plan to, but I like that there is an option to show one's devotion through acts of nourishment, and that food is always such a huge part of Jewish ritual. And I like Jewish food.)
There is something in me that reacts to Jewish storytelling -- the fear and fasting of Esther, discourse on the sacrifice of Isaac, grumpy Rabban Gamliel from the Talmud, even the history of the Piazza Alla Cinque Schole when I stumbled into it in Rome. I didn't care particularly about the story of Moses when I learned it as a child, but I sniffle at the parting of the Red Sea in Prince of Egypt every damn time. Not even because of the miracle! I'm simply moved by the vision of a people going to freedom, scared but going, protecting each other and singing as they go.
Anyway. I'm in a conversation with Judaism that isn't over yet, and either eventually I'll reach a point where it ends, or I'll convert and be in this conversation the rest of my life. Kind of fun not to know yet which it will be.
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s1m0nth3swag · 22 hours
Text
Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.
The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.
The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.
Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.
A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?
Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.
You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.
"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.
Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.
"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.
When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.
Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.
Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
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morallyinept · 3 days
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For anyone who needs to hear this today...
Dieter and I are just weighing in on some of the conversations floating around where people are feeling like they're not wanted here, or who feel like they might want to leave...
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You ARE absolutely wanted here.
Whether you're a creator, reader, silent lurker. It doesn't matter if you have 1 follower or 10k. Whether you write one chapter every few weeks, or churn out fics on the daily.
This is a fandom, not a competition.
You. Are. All. Wanted. Here.
Tumblr, for want of a better analogy, is a crap factory of a website. 😝 It's gone down the pan in the last decade massively, and it's the complete opposite of what other social media platforms do, (in terms of likes and algorithims etc... you have to re-blog everything - not like it - here to get any traction) you get out of Tumblr what you put in, effectively.
No-one here is better than anyone else, we're all part of that big Pedro table and continuously squish up to make room for everyone. And if anyone isn't doing that, then they should be the one's to leave, not you.
I get it. I feel it too. I've contemplated leaving several times. Yeah. It's a hard place sometimes to try and make a tiny space of it your own.
☝🏻But remember, even the biggest blogs on here started off with zero followers and had to build their niche from scratch. Rome wasn't built in a day.
It takes time and effort. It might look like it's easy for others, but it really isn't. And I'm in no way a "big blog" in the slightest.
But I stay here doing my own thing, because ultimately, I love writing and creating - it makes me happy, and I love the sense of community here.
I get immense joy out of making my silly banners and posts, and having a giggle with like-minded people when Pedro shaves his beard off (🫠). I ignore the drama and focus on having a positive time here.
But I get that doesn't work for everybody. Sometimes it's hard to tune all the fuzz out, right? It's massively overwhelming some days on here - I feel ya, bub.
The level of talent in this fandom is incredible, but it often leaves you feeling like "where do I begin?" Or "who do I talk to?" And "how do I talk to someone without coming across as weird?" And "how the hell do I re-blog everything and reply to comments and remember to answer DM's and Asks, whilst remembering to update my WIP and see what my fav blogs have posted, and catch up on that fic I like..? 🤯
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In short, you can't.
You simply can't do everything.
And you shouldn't try to either as that's when you'll burn out and when things start feeling overwhelming. Then your enjoyment wanes and then that's when you feel like you want to give it all in.
Just breathe.
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The best advice I can give (and I'm no expert!) is to curate your own experience here as best as you can.
Eliminate that overwhelming feeling to make your Tumblr time and space enjoyable.
Make it work for you and your needs.
Some easy things you can do that might help:
Update your notifications - I personally filter out the likes, otherwise I find I miss notifs like new followers or comments etc... Tumblr can be glitchy as hell too, so by removing the likes, you can see all the stuff you don't wanna miss. To turn them off, go into your activity (app version) and hit custom, scroll down to custom again and then untick likes:
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There's a new option now to subscribe to specific blogs you like and adjust your home feed settings to that. You click on the blogs themselves and add them to get notifications and then they'll appear under Blog Subs on your feed. You can then switch through feeds to just see the blogs you've added, rather than everyone you follow. It's then easy to switch between feeds:
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Limit your time here - if it starts to feel overwhelming, take a break! That's your brain telling you that you might need it. We'll all still be here when you come back. Don't compromise your peace of mind or happiness for the sake of scrolling for hours.
If you're a creator and have writer's block etc... again, take that break! Whether it's a day or a week, or a year. Take as long as you need. Those that are worth it will still be here and will wait patiently for you. Don't put unnecessary pressure on yourself. And if anyone does pressure you, block them.
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Forget the numbers. I know, I know, it's easier said than done. Of course we want re-blogs and engagement, it's why we're here and putting our work out there. We wouldn't do it if we didn't want that engagement. But don't let the numbers be the main reason why you do it, otherwise your expectation can often be met with a harsh reality when it doesn't go how you think it will. Do it because it makes you happy, first and foremost. There will always be someone who looks forward to what you put out there.
If you want engagement, you need to engage back. This community survives and thrives on sharing. Re-blog everything you like. Re-blogging is the number one must on Tumblr. It's how the site works. Likes are lovely, but it's simply just a book marking feature here, which is essentially useless as your likes get pushed to the bottom of your like pile the more you like things. RE-BLOG EVERYTHING. By re-blogging you can also use tags so you can easily find things again. Liked that Frankie Morales fic you read last week? Re-blog it with the tag 'Frankie Morales' for example, and then you can search your own blog to find everything you've ever tagged with 'Frankie Morales'. You can even schedule re-blogs in advance too. You can't do any of that with likes. You'd have to scroll through every single like you've ever liked to find it again... and ain't no-one got time for that. If you're someone who is asking for engagement, you need to be prepared to give it back. I repeat, RE-BLOG EVERYTHING!
"Yeah, but if I re-blog everything, my aesthetic will be compromised, or my blog will be bulky and I might annoy everyone by appearing on their feed too much..." These are all valid concerns, but you can simply make a side blog specific for re-blogging things if you want. Whatever way you choose to do it, re-blog, re-blog, re-blog!
Be bold and reach out using DM's and ASK's. I don' think there's a single writer or artist out there who doesn't like getting a comment or a message complimenting their work. And we all love to chat about it, and that's an easy way in and to make friends too! It can be daunting, but I assure you if you're polite and kind, people will want to engage back with you. We all have one thing in common here at least - Pedro! 🥰
Sometimes, it can feel like everyone has their own friend groups or cliques and it can be hard to find your own community within a community. Almost everyone I engage with on a daily basis here, new and old users, are some of the nicest, kindest people I've spoken to. You really have nothing to be afraid of. They're just like you - they want to talk and make friends.
These are just some tips that I've found have worked for me on my own Tumblr journey with quelling that overwhelming feeling. And I hope they can help you in some way, especially if you're contemplating being here right now.
You might feel that what you put out there isn't appreciated because it doesn't get the notes or engagement you want, but I promise you, there is always someone who you have touched with your words and work.
Be kind to yourself and know that you really are a valued part of this fandom.
🖤
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YOU. ARE. STRONGER. THAN. YOU. THINK. 🖤
Do you. Then do Dieter.
Self-Care With Dieter & Jett
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jnkgrnde · 11 hours
Text
— safety net
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— summary: in which, you and clarisse are new to being in a relationship, so you help guide eachother and get to know eachother.
— pairings: clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (cabin of choice)
— author’s note: can y’all tell this was rushed cs i really needed to get it out my drafts 🌚
— LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE
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clarisse la rue loved you. she knew she did. she just didn’t know how to express it well.
being a daughter of ares and the way she had to mold herself for his approval, she’d learn that love was weakness. she’d learned that love only got in the way of what was really important, and that she didn’t need it in her life.
she didn’t know what she was feeling when she first saw you enter camp. she couldn’t describe the bitterness and anger whenever she saw you with one of the boys from apollo cabin or one of the girls from aphrodite cabin.
she’d heard her siblings talk about these things, how they felt whenever they were around someone their heart deemed special. she didn’t want to consult them, knowing how they’d probably get, so she went to talk to her new best friend silena.
“it sounds like you have a crush on her, clarisse.” clarisse choked. silena just confirmed everything she was feeling was tied to a crush? it felt stupid. all of it felt stupid; it made it sound like they were in third grade again and that was all people teased each other about.
it unfortunately did make sense to clarisse, though. the longing looks she’d give you, the anger that bubbled when she saw you with someone else, the speeding up of her heart whenever she saw you. she didn’t want to acknowledge what she felt, that she out of all people had fell weakness to love, but there was nothing she could do.
silena told her to start hanging around you more just to see what would happen. clarisse protested at first, saying her siblings and the rest of the camp including you would think she was weird, but a couple of nights after the conversation, she started considering it.
it eventually started with her choosing you to be her sparring partner. you were confused and a little flustered, not knowing the reason why she chose you out of all people. “‘cause i wanted to try something different,” was all she told you with a shrug.
it wasn’t hard for you to notice how she went a little softer on you, either. her grip on her spear was loosened a little, her steps weren’t as calculated, almost as if she was distracted. the weird thing was, even after she sparred with you, she still went hard on everybody else.
another thing to strike off the list — silena beauregard watched you a whole lot more now, especially whenever you were with clarisse. all of this had you confused becuase of how random it was.
then came the little touches; her hand would graze your waist or the small of your back, her fingers gently tracing over yours whenever she fixed your stance. she would linger for a little too long whenever it was time for her to leave.
you started staying up late wondering what was happening and why clarisse was doing this. you assumed she wasn’t a person who really… felt love towards people. people knew clarisse as a prideful, arrogant and powerful daughter of ares who always wanted her father’s approval. when you thought of love, clarisse was not the first person to come in mind.
yet, she acted as a girlfriend and protector towards you; defending you when you weren’t there to defend yourself, offered to walk you to your cabin. it wasn’t until a couple months and a lot of yearning later that you confronted her about it.
it was when she was walking you back to your cabin when you finally asked her what was going on. you stopped a few feet so your siblings couldn’t hear. “clarisse, what’s going on with you?” you asked her. she turned to look at you, feigning confusion. “what do you mean?”
“i mean you don’t usually do this. you don’t hang around people and act like you do with me. you don’t touch them like you do to me, and this is all just so sudden. i just wanna know why?” you looked her deep in her eyes. she licked her lips before breathing deeply.
“i like you. i do all this because i like you, y/n, and i’m scared.” she confessed. you felt like you knew why, but you still asked, “scared of what?” she swallowed thickly. “what if i lose you— what if you lose me? you know we can die at any moment to anything, i wouldn’t want to burden you with that.”
your hand came up to her cheek, your thumb gently rubbing against it. “clarisse, if i die solely because i’m a demigod, i’d rather die knowing i loved you for as long as i could.”
clarisse looked at you, just soaking you in. you were still here. you weren’t gone yet. she didn’t have all the time in the world, per say, but she took whatever time she could get.
it was after that night you’d start sneaking into eachothers cabins, hanging out even more around the camp, including after hours. clarisse expressed how worried she was because she never liked someone this much before, at least not that she was aware of.
“clar, it’s okay. i’m new to this to. we can figure it out.” you told her while you laid on her in her cabin bunk. she took a deep inhale, “okay.”
you two expressed what you liked and didn’t like, what your love languages were, what flowers you liked. every day, somehow, clarisse would have a new gift for you. she had one of the hephaestus kids make a necklace for you with both your initials engraved in it. you’d bring her a painted bead for her camp necklace after arts and crafts, and she’d wear it with pride.
everything was new to her, and it was new to you too, but you had each other as guides, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Text
Not A Drop
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Here is the one shot for my first giveaway winner @monluciferly! Enjoy!
Lucifer x Sinner reader
Word Count: 2.4k
CW: Trauma, War, Anxiety, Fluff, Fear, Depictions of Violence
The night before the extermination had finally come, and everyone that would be involved in the next day’s battle against Heaven was at the hotel celebrating together. Lucifer sat at the bar and looked around the room at all of the faces of sinners he had barely gotten to know, Rosie’s band of cannibals, the residents of the hotel, his daughter Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie, and finally, you.
Lucifer heaved a great sigh as he looked at you, partly out of love and partly out of fear. You had arrived at the hotel not long before Lucifer had his first visit to the hotel when he had reconnected with Charlie. He had started to get to know everyone at the hotel after that, but something about you really drew his attention.
You treated him like a normal person, you treated him with respect but didn’t trip over his royal status. You weren’t afraid of him either, you just accepted him as he was. You had the patience of a saint, yet somehow you ended up here, in Hell. Neither of you knew why you had ended up here, but you had accepted it with grace, making statements of how if you were there it must have been for a reason, and you had come to the hotel to help others and try your own hand at redemption.
He clenched his fist thinking of it. How could fate be so unfair, that an angel like you would end up here instead of in Heaven where you belonged? Away for all of this, blind to the idea of war. Away from him and all the trouble he was. But no, instead you were here to be part of the light that kept him going, and being so irritatingly stubborn at your decision to take part in the war, no matter how hard he pleaded for you to stay out of it. To stay at his manor and be protected from the angels.
You two had only confessed your blossoming feelings for each other the night before, and though it made Lucifer want you out of the war completely, it had only deepened your resolve to fight. If you two loved each other, you would fight to protect anything he loved and held dear, especially Charlie. He loved and hated that. He just wished you could understand how he wanted that protection for you too. That if he had it his way, that he would be the only one fighting. This was the first time he had started developing feelings for anyone since Lilith, and he did not want that to slip away in an instant.
You excused yourself from your conversation with Vaggie and Charlie to walk over to Lucifer. He watched breathlessly as you walked towards him. Golly, you were beautiful. You stopped just short of him.
“You plan on just staring at me longingly across the room all night?” You ask with a cheeky smile.
Lucifer sighed “Maybe… just want to savor this, in case…”
You tipped his chin up to meet your gaze, “Oh stop it, you act like I am so fragile,” you chuckle, “I’ll be fine. I’m a tough girl, I tie my own sandals and everything.” You gave him a soft, playful punch to the arm.
He gave a weak laugh and looked away for a moment, and then back to you, studying your face.
“There is really nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”
You shook your head, “Nope! I need to do this. I already ran from one fight, I’m not running from this one.”
Lucifer sighed with defeat, remembering the story of what had caused your death in the first place. A few weeks ago, you had told Lucifer the story of how you had been caught in a street fight with your brother and his friend. You weren’t involved in any of the gangs in your area, but they still ran the streets where you lived, and when they happened you needed to defend yourself or run. Half decisions were a death sentence. Your brother and his friend had guns on them, they offered you another, but you were scared and refused. Your brother had covered you while you ran, and he ended up getting killed, you stopped and turned to see him fall to the ground instead of continuing to run, and that is when the next bullet came for you.
Lucifer knew that you believed this was your second chance to redeem yourself. That something like this might be what gets you into Heaven, or at least, atone for what happened that night. He looked down at your angelic weapon of choice, a sword where you had written your brother’s name on the inside of the hilt. He looked up at you and cupped your check, giving you a soft smile.
“Alright, can I at least steal you away for the rest of the night?” He said holding out his other hand. You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. You both said goodbye to the rest of the hotel crew before teleporting of to Lucifer’s room to snuggle the night away. At least with you by his side he was likely to get some sleep that night.
———————————————————————————————
The next morning, you all were outside of the hotel, weapons prepped for battle, ready for the onslaught of angelic exorcists. Lucifer stayed out of sight, also prepped and ready, but only for if the right combination of things happened that would allow him to join the battle. Due to the deal with Heaven, he was not able to intervene unless a hellborn was attacked, which meant either Charlie or her guardian’s Razzle and Dazzle. If you were attacked, Lucifer would be unable to aid you unless the first requirement was already fulfilled to be able to enter battle.
He was so conflicted on how he wanted this all to play out. He hoped his presence was not needed at all, but he wished he could be by both Charlie’s and your side from the jump. But he needed to follow the rules, which drove him crazy.
Soon the portal from heaven opened, and an army of angels started to pour out into the red skies of hell, led by Adam, the first man himself. Lucifer felt his blood boil just looking at him, but he held back. He watched as the beginnings of the battle started to unfold, starting off with Alastor creating a magical barrier that separated the hotel from half of the angels, giving those on the ground more of a chance to pick off the few angels that had been trapped inside. Lucifer hated to admit it, but it was a good strategy.
Lucifer continued to remain at a distance, watching the battle is it unfolded. Inside of the magical dome, you and the others were beginning to take down the angels that have been trapped inside with you. Feeling your sword cut through the air, and send the golden blood of angels splattering to the ground made you feel proud. You weren’t a fan of violence, but you were proud to be doing your part to protect the hotel. Hearing Charlie’s comments of hope also made you smile.
You heard a loud crack, and you looked up to see Alastor’s dome was smashed apart by Adam, and they began their fight up on the roof of the hotel. Without the barrier, the group started to have a lot harder time, keeping up with all of the angels, including you.
Lucifer’s anxiety was increasing as he watched the scene continue to unfold. Charlie seemed to be handling herself, especially with Vaggie at her side, but you were slowing down. He watched as Adam came down and started to attack everyone on the ground, then Pentious giving his life for everyone else. Charlie summoned more of her demonic power and called Razzle and Dazzle into their full form.
“That’s my girl,” Lucifer whispered to himself.
He then watched as Adam struck Razzle, and as if he were released from shackles that were holding him in place, he unfurled his wings and bolted for you right as an exorcists was about to plunge a sword into your shoulder, and he quickly zipped you off to the sidelines.
You wiggled and fought his hold “Lucifer?! Put me down! I need to fight!!”
“Ňø ŷøų ðøņ’ț!” He yelled in a demonic tone, horns out and eyes red. It made you stop, you had never seen him like this. He caught himself and his face returned to normal.
“I’m sorry… I…” he looked up and saw a cut on you face dripping red blood, mortal blood. He grabbed your hands, “I’m so thankful for everything you have done, for Charlie, for the hotel. The criteria has been met for me to be able to finish this off, and I plan to. I need you to stay up here.” He looked over your face, you opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I could hurt them. I could kill all of them, but not you. If it was up to me,” he reached up to swipe his fingers along your check to heal the cut, “you’d never see a single drop of your own blood again.”
Your eyes welled with tears and you smiled, putting your hand atop his on your check and leaning in to softly kiss him on the lips. You broke the kiss and leaned your forehead against his.
“Ok, I’ll stand down. Now go get that son of a bitch, baby!”
Lucifer hugged you right and then jumped off with a smile and flew back over to the battlefield, plunging his fist straight into the side of Adam’s face as he loomed over Charlie atop the hotel roof. Adam went flying and Lucifer caught Charlie as she fell.
“Dad?” She looked up at him with a smile.
“Sorry I wasn’t able to be here sooner, sweetie,” Lucifer said as he set Charlie down.
Adam grunted as he dragged himself out of the rubble, “OK seriously? How many of you freaks am I going to have to fight?”
Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, and started to walk towards Adam, “Oh, I’m the only one that matters. You see you mess with my daughter, and now, I am going to fuck you!”
The entire battlefield went silent with confusion for a second.
Charlie leaned in closer to her father and whispered “It’s “fuck you up”, Dad.”
“Wait, what did I say-“
Lucifer was cut off by Adam lunging at him, and then flying into a wall together. Lucifer quickly brushed himself off and took the fight to the skies. He started teasing Adam as he dodged Adams attacks like they were nothing. Eventually, Adam got fed up and sent a blast of angelic light through the center of the hotel sending it to crumble into pieces, Charlie falling along with it. Luckily, in the last second Lucifer was able to scoop up Charlie again.
“I got ya,” he smiled down at her.
She smiled back up again before seeing Adam fly down at them, “Dad, look out!” They turned together worked to grab Adam and send him flying into the rubble of the hotel below.
Adam landed hard into the ground, breaking off the remainder of his mask, and showing his human face. Lucifer flew down with Charlie in one arm, his full demon form out on display, all six of his wings flapping angrily, fire spitting from his mouth.
“Yøů çømę äț mē ąñð mŷ ðæűğħțěř?! Ðøń’ț føřġęț, ÿøū’řę ïn MŸ ħøůşę, bįțçħ!” He says in a demonic voice, setting down Charlie and starting to beat Adam to a pulp on the ground. He is about to strike Adam with a blow of fire before Charlie stops him.
“Whoa, whoa, Dad! He’s had enough.” Lucifer looks up at Charlie and then back down at the mangled first man below him. He nods and gets up “How’s is mercy taste, you little bitch?”
“No,” Adam says trying to get up, he was now surrounded by the rest of the hotel crew, “You don’t get to end this. I am Adam! I am the fucking man! And you are just some clown or somethin’! I started everything on earth, all of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshiping me, you ungrateful disgusting, fucking losers!”
At that point a knife skewered through Adam’s chest from the back, his eyes went wide, and his mouth hung a gape, before he to forward, revealing Niffty holding onto the opposite end of the knife.
Everyone stared at her in disbelief.
“Niffty?!” Charlie shouted.
Niffty looked down, smiled, and continued to stab Adam’s lifeless body, sending more golden blood spilling across the ground.
Lute, Adam’s second in command screamed and flew over to his lifeless body. Lucifer walked up to her and loomed over her, she looked up at his smirk.
“Now, take your little friends, and ĞØ ĦØMĘ! Please,” He said with a smile.
Lute growled and reluctantly whistled for the other angels, opened the portal back to Heaven, and they all flew away.
The rest of you looked around the war-torn grounds of where the Hazbin Hotel once stood, and collectively breathed a sigh of relief and sadness. Lucifer went to go give Charlie a long and reassuring hug before flying back over to you.
You were so happy and relieved to see him fly towards you, you didn’t even wait for him to get all the way to you before, jumping up and into his arms, where he pulled you in tightly and spun you around in the air.
“You did it! You won!” You cheered as your eyes filled with tears, then you looked down at the remains of the hotel.
“No, we won, my love,” he then dipped you mid air and gave you a long passionate kiss. You sighed and held him as closely as you could before he broke the kiss.
“Now! I don’t know about you, but I think we have a hotel to rebuild,” he said looking into your eyes.
You smiled brightly at him, “Let’s do this!”
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forevermoreharrington · 20 hours
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Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes - R.C
Rafe takes a liking to the sweet girl at the country club
Rafe Cameron x female!reader
A/n: pogue x kook, soft!rafe
Warnings: none
Word count: 0.6k
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Spring, 
There wasn’t one please or thank you that fell from Rafe Cameron's lips, just a muttered and ice. Like it was her fault she hadn’t read his mind or at the very least remembered he liked his drinks cold. If she was being honest, the second she handed the glass to him she knew she had forgotten something. 
He drank it like a shot, she heard the ice hitting his teeth and felt it in her neck like a shiver down her back. He wasn't one of the worst members, he used to be but he seemed to be calming down now, just trying to better his golf game upon his fathers request. 
Rafe had asked for her, which didn't mean he liked her, it just meant he disliked her the least. 
He was about to swing back when she called out, wait. The sweetest looking little brown rabbit had run onto the course and if Rafe had hit the golf ball he would’ve either hit the poor thing or at least given it a heart attack. 
He looked back at her like he could’ve killed her. Eyes dark and mean, narrowing her down until she felt very, very small. But even with that look, there was something so unthreatening about the boy in front of her, which pushed her to speak up. 
“There was a rabbit.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, standing with her hands behind her back, since as she looked out, the brown ball of fluff was now gone and there was little proof to justify her messing up his hit. 
He softened up, just a little. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and shutting his eyes like he was going to lose his patience with her in just a minute but really it was probably (at least she thought) because his neck hurt because of how long he had been playing with no one but himself. 
“A rabbit.” He repeated, almost sounding like he wanted to laugh but trying so very hard not to. He nodded his head digging the end of his club into the ground. “If thumper himself was running across the course why is that more important-”
She didn’t even let him finish his thought, let alone his sentence. “Are you really saying your little game is more important than something with a heart beat?” Anyone else would’ve dragged her right back inside and gotten her fired for even imagining she could contradict them but Rafe just smiled, which would have almost been frightening if he didn’t have such a pretty smile.
He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue and muttered something she didn’t catch, before loudly asking, “Would you hate me if I was?” He was grinning now, a flirty edge to his voice that shouldn’t have made her pulse quicken the way it did. 
“Yes.” Her voice cracked as he took a few steps closer, his club still in his hands, swinging slightly. Only he could have made a golf club a seemingly attractive object. He stopped just inches from her, she hadn’t noticed till this moment just how tall he was. And just how strong his cologne was too.
“Then no.” He backed away, readying his next shot like nothing had happened. “That's not what I’m saying.” She had no response to that, and he knew she wouldn’t, he had tricked her by just standing a little too close, because he obviously knew the effect he had on people and had no problem exploiting that. She was almost impressed.  
Rafe asked after her without fail every single day after that, and when she wasn’t working he just didn’t come in. She was no longer the least irritable person at the club but the most interesting. And though it gave him a gnawing pain in his side every time he thought about it, he definitely had a crush on her.  
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sh0tanzz · 2 days
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Who in riize do u think would like a partner who’s slightly older/younger than them, like a year or two age difference? N then who do you think would prefer someone who’s older and has more life experience? (Basically kinda in a who would want to be taken care of by their partner vs them being the one to take care of their partner type of way)
hmmmmm this may be a bit controversial I fear
RIIZE OLDER VS YOUNGER based on astrology~
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reminder this is based off of MY opinions of their birth chart placements + aspects and is not exact fact unless I knew them myself and I am not a professional astrologer 🤍
Older
Seunghan
a lot of people think Seunghan would have a younger s.o but ngl..he'd probably like someone more older or at least a person that has more experience/more mature. I say this because the things he'd want the most I feel like he'd expect or more easily get from someone older. He wants someone that would be independent + confident in their place in the relationship, has experience in life in general (including partying/vices), and ngl he might want more tasteful luxury gifts so lowkey sugarmama/older gf vibes 😭.
Anton
I don't think he cares about age at all bc his chart doesn't indicate physical attributes minus the stereotypical feminine things (bouncy healthy hair, sweet perfumes, pretty nails) but I feel like he'd be best suited with someone older yk..like that would be best for him. Reason being, personality wise he wants someone mature, ambitious, independent, doesn't need to be babied/taken care of 24/7, can guide him, financial stable which is something you expect from a more mature/older person right ?
Middle Ground
alright ikik all my babygirls are wondering wtf Sungchan and Eunseok are doing here instead of the younger category but..walk with me....🤫
Sungchan
50/50 bc I feel like he can get what he wants from either age group. He has a cancer moon + leo venus so he may like reciprocity and for him and his s.o nurture or be attentive with each other OR he's ok with taking care of a younger/immature s.o & would be fine with being taken care of by a older/mature s.o. He likes someone to be educated, lowkey a little wiser and put together BUT he likes to wear the pants and be the lead/doting counterpart of the relationship. I just think he can get what he likes from either group and he probs is into cap risings.
Eunseok
Eunseok..probably just doesn't care LMFAO. As long as you're tall, hot, confident and charming he's all in. IM KIDDING OFC . but he can adapt to either relationship trope. He likes someone with a mature seductiveness thats independent and gives good concrete wise advice..BUT he also likes someone thats goofy and surprises him and has a teasing "hard to get" aura to them. So imo he'd go after either one as long as they were compatible with him.
Younger
(crazy I know)
Sohee
Sohee is typically the one being doted on and seen as the "cute" one and I just think he'd want to explore outside of that trope through his partner (sag venus tings). Plus I'm ngl Sohee's big 6 placements and his sun/uranus + mercury/mars aspects makes me feel like he'd feel kinda slowed down or restricted with an older/overly mature/serious partner. This is about to be contradictory ik but I feel like it’d be easier if said older partner had a more immature “cute” image
Wonbin
Wonbin probably likes...cliche dynamincs ngl..his taurus mars makes him feel more driven to the traditional/stereotypical dynamics yk so he's the masc and provides like the typical "oppa" type shit ykwim. Plus his Pisces Venus probably makes him idealize that type of stereotypical trope more. I also feel like an older partner would make him feel a more serious sense of responsibility and scare the shit out of him 😭😭.
Shotaro
Shotaro has a capricorn venus and I said in one post his ideal type could go either way and transition between being more playful+immature or sophisticated+mature I feel like he currently likes immature/younger partners (see how he dotes on Sohee/Anton the youngest members) but in the future would prefer someone more mature because that's just what I typically see in cap venus men,,they start with one ideal type and the older they get they switch to the other.
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sports-on-sundays · 3 days
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Okay I figured it out !!! what if y/n is a F1 driver and she’s really close with Charles or lando and is with either Pablo , Fermin , or pedri and they get jealous of how close y/n and Charles or lando are !! And they get into an argument before the Barcelona GP and y/n thinks they won’t be there to see them race but in the end they do go and see y/n get a home podium and they make up !!
surprises in Barcelona / Pedri González
Summary: Pedri x Spanish!F1 driver!girlfriend!reader - When Y/n is in a job in which she's surrounded by nineteen male, handsome hot shots nearly all near long, it's easy for her boyfriend to get a bit jealous.
Warnings: censored cuss, arguing in a relationship, screaming, communication cut off for a while
Requested?: Yes! <3
Author's Note: OMG I LOVE IT. It's kind of funny, because I have an OC much like the reader in this story, so to be honest, that's just what I imagined while writing this.
It all starts with a stupid, petty comment.
Pedri is to the point of practically begging you for some time together, since his schedule is free. But yours isn't. You tried to explain so many times that even though you're back home in Barcelona, and not in the UK, that doesn't mean you don't have work to do before the next race here in Barcelona.
Maybe you're being a bit harsh. Maybe you should sit down with your boyfriend and snuggle him a bit. Let him have you, just for a moment, just for a short break in both of your glittery sporting lives.
But if you were starting to change your mind at all, or feeling any sympathy in the slightest, it's suddenly squashed when that stupid comment comes out of his mouth.
"Yeah, I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do. Since you clearly care about your teammate more than your own boyfriend."
Your head snaps to look at him. "Excuse me? What teammate?"
His thick, dark eyebrows knit together as he comments, crossing his arms. "You know. Your teammate. The one you constantly talk about, and joke around with? You're practically flirting by now."
This is coming as a shocker to you. This is the first time Pedri's ever voiced thoughts such as these. But you clench your jaw. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea why you feel the need to bring Lando into this-"
"Because you're putting him over me! And your job! And your team!"
"No I'm not!" you snap, then taunt a bit, "Oh, is someone getting jealous?"
"I have the right to!" Pedri is starting to get angrier, and his body straightens more. "I see how you nudge him, and hug him after good performances-"
"Everyone does that! I'm not getting mad at you for hugging your teammates after a goal is scored, am I?"
"No, but that's different!"
"In what way? Just because I'm a woman?" your lip curls in annoyance. "So I'm not allowed to have sportsmanship and camaraderie with my team, just because of my gender? Just because my teammate is a man, and I'm a woman? Give me a f*cking break!"
Pedri stands up, his face reddening, and now his voice is raised as he snaps back, "It's not that! It's that you're doing all that, and not giving me any attention! You spend more time with Norris these days than you do with me!"
"It's because he's amongst me in my job! I can't really avoid him!"
"Maybe you should try separating your job from your personal life and show me some love for once! Give me back some of the energy I give to you!" he suddenly screams.
There's a few seconds of silence, but your heart feels cold as you respond, "So I'm not allowed to have friends, then? I have to give my everything to you, and only you? Well, at least Lando doesn't expect anything more from me than what I can give."
"Yeah, and that's because you're giving him so much! Why don't you consider me?"
"Why don't you consider me?" you suddenly yell, before slamming the door of his flat shut and leaving, your head spinning with irrational thoughts.
Lando isn't just your teammate. He's also your friend. And a good friend, at that. But you figure it's hard for anyone who really knows Lando not to like him.
Now he catches you in the McLaren garage, before the first practice session of the Barcelona Grand Prix weekend. It's been a week since the argument with Pedri, and over that week, your conscience has been killing you. You tried to text him twice, but didn't get a response, and you're too nervous to call, because you don't want to face the fact that he could just decide not to pick up.
But your heart and head are aching, and clearly it shows on your face, because suddenly you feel a friendly slap on your back as Lando says, "It's your home race weekend, Y/n. Look a bit more alive!"
You shrug and force a smile. "I know. Just got some things on my mind."
"Something bad happen?" he inquires, his eyebrow cocking up a bit.
"Not really," you shrug.
As if reading your mind, Lando asks, "Will your boyfriend be able to make it this weekend?"
This question makes your head swarm.
Will he? I mean, if he's ignoring me now, why would he bother to come to the Grand Prix?
Maybe he's too busy for me, like I was for him.
You swallow as you feel a pang of guilt deep in your chest.
"Uh, I don't know... I don't think so," you say, clearing your throat.
Lando continues looking at you expectantly with big eyes, as if thinking you're going to elaborate on that. But when you don't he says with a little frown, "Well, why not? He lives in Barcelona." Lando is, obviously, aware of which famous football player is your boyfriend.
You shrug a little. "It's a long story, to be honest. But I'm fine, Lando. Don't worry. Besides, I think the best thing right now is to just focus on racing, you know?"
Lando nods slowly, not seeming fully convinced, but says, "Alright, then. Whatever you think."
You nod as he gives you another reassuring slap on the back and walks on.
You sigh.
Just have to switch my brain off into racing mode. See all those Spanish fans cheering me on.
I've got all of McLaren, including Lando, backing me.
And I've got all of Spain, except for maybe Pedri González, my own boyfriend, backing me, too.
When you get into that car, it's like the world stops moving. In all three practices, and then in qualifying. There's no worrying about jealousy, relationships, or public image. All there is is you, the car, the speed, and the other cars you, ultimately, need to beat.
All there is is the wind, the throttle, the limits you're pushing to break past.
The speed.
It's why you love racing.
You finish qualifying in fourth, and when Lando sees you in the garage, he gives you a high five and a friendly half-hug before saying, "Starting 3-4 for the race. Good job."
You smile and nod. "Thanks. You know how it is, though." You can tell he's just trying to cheer you up. He's not actually this estatic about starting in third and fourth.
"Yeah, yeah," he nods, putting on his cap. "But, hey." He makes eye contact with you. "Maybe your boy will show up for the race, at least?"
You shrug, looking down and respond simply, "Maybe." You doubt it.
You're sure you'll make it up. The next time you see him, you'll fix everything. Apologize, and explain.
It just kind of sucks that this had to all go down right before one of the few races on the calendar that Pedri can actually make it to. Your home race.
Before the race, you text Pedri.
It's left on sent, just like the other two.
"What's got you in such a good mood?" you demand to Lando, who is basically walking around the paddock like a smug little contained jar of sunshine and rainbow, being cheeky because clearly he knows something no one else does.
You know the bratty look in his eyes.
He seems to find a ridiculous amount of pleasure in this question from you as he comments, his voice drawn out in a sing-song tone, "Nothing..."
You roll your eyes and tease, "What, some cute girl asked you out? Or, what, you heard Red Bull talking about some kind of terrible problem with their car? Or, what, you overheard the full and complete ultimate strategy of Ferrari in order to take us down?"
Lando's grin grows. "All of those things would be pretty great, but unfortunately, none of them are true. Simply, nothing at all is different," he comments, like the complete and utter dork he is.
How could Pedri ever think I'd chose this loser over him? you ask yourself in rueful disbelief.
"Alright, then don't tell me!" you say with a shrug, showing you really aren't going to waste any more energy with him.
"Good, because otherwise I might slip the secret!"
At this, your eyebrows furrow, but when you glance back at Lando, he waves his hand and adds, "You'll figure it out soon enough."
For a while, you ponder on what Lando could have been talking about, but soon you're putting on your helmet, and forgetting everything.
Because you have a chance to podium at your home race, and you intend to do it.
So you pull out on track. Drive the formation lap, entering the zone, letting everything but racing slip from your mind.
Feeling the pounding of your heart and the pulsing adreniline.
And then, before you know it, it's-
Lights out, and away we go!
"So, what place is that, then?" you question over the radio in the last lap.
"Uh, that's P2, Y/n. P2," comes the response back.
It hits you. "What? I didn't even know!" you laugh high, actually so shocked. "When did that happen?"
You hear your engineer laugh and say, "Do you want the whole run down of the race right now, or later?"
You laugh to yourself as you see the chequered flag waving ahead. "And Lando?"
"Uh, Lando go P3," answers your engineer.
"Wait, really? No way! Oh, yeah, I guess so, if I got P2!"
"Well, I'm starting to doubt you even drove the race, but if you did- great job today. That's a double podium for the team and some great points. Enjoy the podium."
You laugh to yourself and say, "I could only do it because of all the home fans cheering me on. The crowd is great!"
"Oh, and that's driver of the day, too."
"Yes! Vamos, baby. Great job, everyone, and thanks to everyone who voted for me."
When you get out of the car and flip up your visor, your heart is already pounding in your chest. Lando high fives you, and then gestures to the McLaren team, ready to greet their two drivers at the finish line.
But you can see the cheeky grin still lingering from before in Lando's eyes, and now you can see exactly why.
"Pedri?!" you scream with a (quite terrible) voice crack. Immediately you run to him, and he grabs you, taking you into his arms as you feel a couple hands from your teammates patting your shoulders and helmet in congratulations.
Pedri kisses your helmet, right where the little Spanish flag on it is. He's grinning, and says, right to you, "I'm so proud of you. And I'm sorry- I wanted it to be a surprise."
You grin and respond, "We can talk stuff over right now. Right now, I've got champagne to spray, no?"
Pedri grins back and nods in agreement. "Go for it."
In the cool down room, you corner Lando and snap, "So that's what you were being so smug about! Had you seen Pedri before the race?"
Lando grins and nods, sitting down in Max's P1 chair, not caring. "Yeah. He told me not to tell you about him being there. A surprise."
"He can speak enough English to tell you that?" You've, obviously, always just spoken to him in Spanish.
Lando chuckles and says, "Well, enough."
On the podium, when you pop the champagne, you spray it at Lando, and Lando sprays it back at you and Max. Adreniline and joy fills you as you then take a swig from the bottle and rub the stinging champagne from your eyes, feeling the wetness of it all over you.
Once you've gotten off the podium and are back in the garage, you spot Pedri, and immediately run to him. You wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek, and say right away, "I'm so sorry, Pedri."
He hugs you back, but doesn't respond.
"I've been feeling so terrible about what happened all week... And then with the silent treatment, too..." You sigh. "I should have given you some time. I could have spared even fifteen minutes, and it would have been good for both of us. I was such an idiot, putting my own thing above you. And even if I had so much to do I couldn't spare some time for you, it was things I could still work on with you. I'm sorry. I was just being a petty idiot, and there's no reason for it."
Pedri hugs you tighter, and as you speak, it feels like there's a weight being lifted off your chest. But now it's Pedri's turn to let off the weight on his chest. "It's okay... I... I forgive you. Thank you. But I was an idiot, too. It's just... I know Norris is your friend, and I don't want you to stop having friends. It just hurts when I know you see him more than you see me. But I shouldn't have even implied you would intentionally put him over me. I'm just... It's hard not to get jealous, but I need to get better. Just... it'd be nice if you... well... if you can help it, don't constantly be hugging him and stuff, you know? But over all, I was an ass, and I'm sorry. I just took my jealousy and anger out when you said you were too busy- That was wrong of me. I'm sorry for not responding to your texts, too... The first few days, I was still too stuck in my thoughts to, but then I had the idea to surprise you at the Grand Prix, and... Well, were you surprised to see me?"
You smile softly, wholeheartedly accepting his apology and understanding his point of view much more after having a week of thinking and stressing over what had happened. But now you respond, "I was perfectly surprised. I'm so glad you came, Pedri, to see me..." Now you're beaming at him.
He grins back, stroking your cheek. "I'd never, ever miss my amazing racing girlfriend's home race!"
"I know, but..."
He comments, "It was an amazing drive. For you and Norris."
"Oh, quit calling him 'Norris'! He's my friend, which means he's yours, too, whether you like it or not!"
Pedri chuckles but accepts it. "Alright, alright. But now- am I allowed to treat Miss P2 to something sweet?"
"What do you have in mind?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
He smirks and says with a wink, "It's a surprise. Are you okay with a second one for today?"
You laugh a little, but nod. "I don' know if anything could be better than simply the surprise of seeing your handsome face, but I suppose another surprise would be good."
"Alright, good. But first-" he leans in closer and says softer, "Don't I get a kiss from my little winner?"
You roll your eyes and say, "I'm neither little or a winner, not today."
"Ah, but you're little compared to me," he comments, referring to you being shorter than him, "and you've certainly won my heart."
"Ah, you're so cliché!" you snap, but lean in, cupping his cheeks, and give him a passionate post-race kiss.
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justagalwhowrites · 13 hours
Text
Growing - A Beskar Doll Drabble
Aidla makes her case to become a bounty hunter like her parents. A Beskar Doll drabble.
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Pairing: The Mandalorian x Female Reader from Beskar Doll
CW: Pregnancy. No use of Y/N. Drabble is SFW but Source fic is 18+ only, minors DNI.
Length: 700
A/N: The first chapter of Beskar Doll went live one year ago today so, in honor of that, here's a little peek at what Din and Doll are up to with their little family. This takes place about 2 years after the end of Beskar Doll and I hope you enjoy it!
Beskar Doll Master List | Full Master List
“But I’m ready, Buir!” 
Din sighed, looking over his daughter’s head to you. Grogu was on your hip, an amused smile on your face and a small fistful of hair in his little grasp. 
Aidla turned to you. Din couldn’t see her face but he was sure she was pouting. 
“Mama!” She protested. “I’m sure I can do it! Really!” 
“Patu!” Grogu said, drawing your attention. 
“OK, I don’t need the two of you teaming up on me,” you said, adjusting your hold on your son. “And no, Aidla. You’re not big enough.” 
“Finally, something we can agree on,” Din said, earning him a scowl from you. “Your mother is right, Aidla. You’re too little.” 
You insisting on coming along for every part of the bounty hunting process was a sore subject between the two of you now that you were pregnant again. 
It made Din incredibly nervous, watching you do anything dangerous in your condition. Of course, he had a whole new understanding of what dangerous was when it came to his children - and you, when you were carrying one. While you were the single most competent person he knew - a formidable adversary and the best partner he could hope for in any combat - that didn’t make what the two of you did for a living safe. Bounty skippers weren’t exactly ready to come quietly and they weren’t above using something like your pregnancy against either of you. 
You, however, were as stubbornly confident as ever. You were convinced that you could handle anything that got thrown at you as easily as you did before you were pregnant. Though, in your defense, you’d been correct when you were pregnant with Aidla. 
That didn’t make it any easier to watch you put yourself in harm’s way now. 
“Why can’t I at least try?” Aidla whined, her little beskar staff tight in her fist. “How can I become a warrior if you never let me really fight?” 
She turned to look at Din. 
“Buir, how old were you when you first fought a bad man?” 
He sighed. 
“Not much bigger than you,” he said reluctantly. 
She smiled, a little triumphant, before turning back to you.
“Mama,” she said. “I know you weren’t too much bigger than me when you and Aunt Sosha went to school. And you were fighting bad guys before that! Why can’t I do it?” 
You bounced Grogu on your hip for a moment before looking back at Din. 
“Don’t,” he said, looking between you and Aidla. 
“Patu,” Grogu said. 
“She has a point…” you said.
“She’s not old enough!” 
“Din,” you lowered your voice and moved closer to him, whispering near his ear on his helmet. “I’d been running information to the rebellion for years by the time I was her age…” 
“That doesn’t mean she’s…” 
Din didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence. His leg got pulled out from below him and he went down hard, his beskar armor clattering against the floor of the Razor Crest’s hold. He was barely on the ground when he felt the small feet of his daughter clambering up his back, the end of her staff pressed firmly into the back of his neck. 
“See, Buir?” She said from her place standing on his back. “I can do it! I’m ready!” 
“Aidla!” Din could hear you straining not to laugh as you scolded her. “That is not how we spar, you know better.” 
“Mama,” she said, exasperated as she climbed off Din’s back. “I wouldn’t spar the bad guys. I’d just fight them.” 
You disguised your laugh with a cough as Din got up with a grunt and sighed. He looked into his daughter’s wide, brown eyes, not unlike his own. 
“Alright,” he sighed. “You can try. But you have to follow mine and your mother’s orders the moment we tell you, understand?” 
“I understand!” She said quickly, throwing her arms around Din’s waist and burying her face in the armor there. “I’ll do so good, Buir! I promise I will!” 
“Better go get ready,” he sighed. “Desert clothes.” 
She nodded once before taking off to get changed and Din looked to you, a small smile on your face as you came to stand beside him. 
“She gets that from you, you know,” he said. 
You looked up at him, smiling smugly. 
“Finally,” you said. “Something we can agree on.” 
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I don’t like people saying characters are boring, for one, thats not always unrealistic, some people don’t act in particularly interesting ways, and two, most of the characters called boring can be explained.
Riptide: We see so little of him, there is no way to really say much about him beyond surface level.
Willow: Honestly I have no idea where people calling her boring are coming from. Sure she doesn’t have anything outstanding about her, but she is plenty interesting and seems realistic to me. She is funny, she seems to have a lot of options about what is right and trys to be the best dragon she can (controlling her emotions, maybe a bit more than she should, managing her anger effectively and using it when the time is right.), and she is smart.
Moon: She doesn’t seem boring to me either. She never had positive interactions with other dragons before Moon Rising, so it makes sense she would be anxious, it also makes sense that a lot of that anxiety would go away when she started to interact with other dragons in a positive way. We also don’t get her point of view as much after her friendships are established, so she could still have that anxiety, and just hide it better. It also makes sense that she could be manipulated by Darkstalker as easily as she was, when he started talking to her she didn’t know what to expect from other dragons, and likely expected the worst, so it would make sense that she would want to trust the dragon who had been only friendly to her. she was also used to being able to judge dragons by their thoughts, the only thoughts she could get from Darkstalker were the ones he chose to let her see, giving her a very biased view of who he was. I would like to add that I can relate to Moon a lot, and some of my experiences are similar to hers, so most of my explanation is based on personal experience, I was homeschooled until high school (recently), and had a very hard time interacting with people, after making friends I was much more confident with other people, much like she appears to be.
I also would say I am similar to Willow in that I try to see the best in people and don’t want to punish whole groups of people because some of them act badly, especially due to manipulation or personal life.
Conclusion: Most of the “Boring” characters are realistic and can be relatable, not every character has to be extremely flawed or outstanding to be interesting.
.
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syxadel · 12 hours
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How do you feel about errormare and swanerror?
ERRORMARE: I used to have an old fixation on this, but not anymore. I do enjoy two old men duking it out and also kissing sloppy style. They’re either besties or worsties and there’s no really telling, but they’re gonna kill each other and get married and also maim anyone who hurts the other. Error claims not to belong to NM’s gang, but that’s because the gang (and NM) belongs to him. That’s his little gaggle of dogs. And also Nightmare. Always Nightmare. Does that mean anything?
SWANERROR: I have no real opinion on it other than “I guess?” Sorry, I’ve never had an OTP until Dreammare and SwapDreammare. I’ve seen art of it but nothing that convinced me. I need to be invested in their emotional development as a couple + dynamic before I can get into it.
I would suppose their dynamic is something like “soggy / you’re the nicest person I know even if you hold me hostage” + “you’re not a threat to me, so I’m not hostile (I’d feel bad hurting you even though I hurt everyone)” and it’s okay. It’s nice that Swan is treated specially and they have a Thing, but I view them more as like friends/buddies. Swan needs to develop as a person and get a backbone before he can face up with Error, but adding a special quality of “soft weakling is immune to the big bad’s threats because so soft and sad” should work if you wanna skip that development.
Error has no reason to like him other than the fact that Swan is easy to control and nonthreatening to him, but I suppose that’s how love works. Unreasonable, yet so intense. He’s isolated enough from the world that both of their desperation for emotional connection should draw them close, but both of them have such high walls about vulnerability I am hard pressed to see how that could develop beyond a longing for closeness-not romance.
I think Error could find a pet project in Swan and see if he could shape him into a personality or give him some sort of… drive. Beyond pure survival instinct. It’d be a cute rehab narrative like “heres things I like, maybe you will find something you like as well” and Error, in his heavily socially awkward way, trying to bond with Swan. But Swan is so… agreeable and soft and scared that I can’t imagine a regular Error (abrasive, impatient, sudden, arrogant) getting along well with him in a meaningful and developmental way. Maybe a more emotionally mature and patient Error.
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moyazaika · 1 day
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SLASHER.
Being a slasher isn’t as fun as some people think, at least not for me. I’m not a fan of the screaming, the blood, the mess, the chase, the effort, the news reports about my murders, none of it. I just want to kill bastards who have done horrible things and move on with my life, under the radar.
Look. I get it. People with my murderous hobby send to be sadistic maniacs who love to chase and torment their victims. I don’t. I just go into their house, or wherever they are while they are sleeping and kill them. My method depends on the day and where they are. If they are sleeping next to someone else (spouse, roommate, or other) I’ll either wait until they get up to go to the bathroom or I’ll silently suffocate them or slit their throat. If they are sleeping along and no one else is around I’ll shoot them. And so on and so forth. 
My mask is pretty simple. A black mask with red mesh eye holes, they used to be white but with all the blood that it’s been covered in I can’t get the stains out anymore. My general slasher outfit is just an all black outfit that covers every inch of my skin. No dna and all that.
I don’t really fall into the slasher category where people are like “I could have never predicted this! They were such a great person!”. And it’s not because I give off murderer vibes…..at least not that I know of….it’s just because I don’t talk to people so there isn’t anyone to tell that to the police. 
I go outside, but I don’t go outside to make friends. I go out to buy food, clothes, make money, etc.
I’m not scared of people, for fucks sake I kill people, people are scared of me, not the other way around. I’m just……easily disappointed with my peers. I understand it’s hard to be a good person at times, and it’s not really my place to tell people how to be a good person when I kill someone every Saturday, but people should at least have the decency to not betray someone.
Some people are also WAY too loyal to their friends. Friends that say they would be their bestie’s alibi if they committed a crime, maybe even help hide the evidence.
I don’t want that type of friend. 
If I had a friend, I don’t want them lying for me. I don’t want them risking getting into legal trouble because of me. If they were to find out I was a slasher I want them to go to the police and report me. Doesn’t matter if they do or do not have evidence, report it. Even if I don’t’ get caught through that report I want them to report it. 
…I don’t really understand myself to be honest.
I have morals.
I have a consciousness.
I just……am detached from them at times.
Even when I talk about caring about my hypothetical friend…not wanting them to get in trouble with the police…I don’t really care…I just say and act like I do because I should care.
…I don’t really know if I’m a good or bad person anymore.
…I don’t even know why I’m writing this….what’s the point?...Despite what those articles say about journaling to get to know yourself better….nothing has changed….i’m just as detached as I was before….even talking about this isn’t completely true. I almost feel sad….but not really. It’s like I can touch the sadness through a glass barrier, but it never is truly touching me……I guess it doesn’t’ really matter. I’m not unhappy with my life, so I don’t see any reason to fix it.
The rich bastard I planned on killing woke up right before I stabbed him in the neck, so now I’m stuck chasing him around his mansion. He keeps screaming for his staff, calling them “lazy worthless idiots” and “good for nothings”. I started to wonder if I even had to pay them off to not help him. It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to think that they just “didn’t hear anything” the night he died.
He ran around a corner but fell down before he could get out of my sight. Well, fell down wasn’t accurate since a second later I saw a man with his own mask on standing over him, clearly having pushed him.  He got on top of the man and started stabbing him. He screamed and the blood from his body started leaking and spread out on the floor. I took a few steps back so it wouldn’t get on my shoes, it’s a pain washing off blood.
When the new guy was done he sat on his legs and looked at me.
“oh….sorry…..didn’t know someone else was after him” he had a very monotone voice. I couldn’t tell if he really meant what he said or if he was trying to mock me.
“…it’s fine…..there were probably more people than just the two of us who were after him”
He nods and looks at the dead body.
“do you collect body parts or is he free game for me?”
“take whatever you like, I don’t like messes.”
He chuckled a little and lifted his knife towards the body. I walked away, hearing some of the cutting noises.
I keep seeing the new guy around the places I kill. Maybe he likes the area because I’m not killing him for killing in my territory like some other slashers. I don’t’ really care who kills in my area. A dead bastard is a dead bastard, I don’t really care if I killed them or someone else did. If anything I prefer if someone else does since I don’t have to clean anything.
“so….when did you start killing?”
“sir, I don’t kill people, and I’m insulted you think that.” I said with anger in my voice.
I don’t know how, but the police apparently have some evidence against me. But they aren’t good cops either, my luck is truly magical. 
The detective is clearly new. He walked in with his head held high and a superiority complex. When he looked at you, you knew he saw you as nothing but a stupid criminal that would get him a raise if he got you sentenced. But like all men with that type of ego, they lack something to actually back that up. It’s nothing but an act to try and make themselves feel more important than they actually are.
“listen, sweetheart, we all know you do, so it’s best if you tell us the truth. I don’t think you’re a cold blooded monster, something must have happened in your past that would have forced you to do this.” 
He spoke with that tone that you hear when a person tries to fake understanding. A slow speech with a fake sympathetic pitch.
This goes on for a while. The man doing a pathetic job at whatever he was trying to do.
It’s no wonder they haven’t caught me if this joke is on the team.
They planned to keep me in a cell for the night while they try to find enough evidence that would justify keeping me, but they get a call before they do that.
“it’s your lucky day, sweetheart, a friend of yours is picking you up. I’d cherish that if I were you, your days as a free woman are limited now that I’m on your tail.”
He smiled. Clearly thinking that everything he says is worthy of being quoted.
I don’t say anything.
A friend?
They walk me out the police station, a man waiting outside there…for me.
The two men guiding me smile at the man, not happy that he was the reason they had to release me, before patting me on the shoulder firmly and walking away.
“hello, again”
Oh…..it’s him…….
He didn't look like how I thought he would. I was expecting a man with dark hair, bored eyes, maybe a piercing or something.
Instead he looked like the son a mom would brag about being on the football team. Tan skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, if I had to take a guess his name is Chad.
A disappointment honestly.
...
How the fuck does he know who I am? 
How the fuck did he know I was here?
How the-
“hi….again” I say back.
He walked away to a car that was parked closest to the police station entrance and opened the door for me. I got in. Being a slasher has the perks of not worrying about your safety a lot.
He got in after and started driving.
“it’s honestly insulting that you got caught by a team that bad”
“they didn’t “catch” me. They just got a lucky lead and are trying to connect it with me. They had me there for four hours, and didn’t have a lick of proper evidence against me.”
He chuckled.
“……”
“..what? silent all of a sudden? You playing your “I have the right to remain silent” card with me?”
“ you sent in that lead…didn’t you?”
“…..”
I squinted at him in disgust. Even slashers can’t keep their fucking mouths shut.
“now, don’t get angry with me, pretty girl, let’s make a deal, hmm?” he smirked.
He mistakenly took my silence as an invitation to continue, but I wasn’t having it. I wasn’t listening to another word coming out of his mouth.
“the deal is quite simp-“
I opened the car door and jumped out. I landed hard on the pavement and got scratched up quite a bit, but nothing serious. It helps to have slasher plot armor. It’s quite hard to kill us.
I heard the car come to screeching stop, but he was already too late. I ran away, and got out of view.
I knew I’d see him again later. Just because the police were on to me didn’t mean I would stop killing, nor would I move to a different area.
Being a slasher is more work than it’s worth sometimes. 
-✨🥐anon (sorry for any typos! Forgot that I teased this to you and forgot about it, so I haven't really read this since.)
LOL when darling would rather jump out of the car than hear him out 😭😭
also the “it helps to have plot armour” line tooK ME OUTTHSHH i hope one day i can be a fraction as funny as your darlings are 💔💔
this is such a fantastic idea, and something new compared to the usual slasher x final girl trope yk?
thank you for sending this in! good stuff as always :)
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Just a note to let you know how much you are missed. I understand it's a hard situation at the moment, but despite what has happened, you are still loved by so many. I hope to see you posting again at some point, I miss your sense of humor, your brilliance, and your great heart. Don't let the others force you into silence, that's what they want.
Signed, a fan from the beginning.
Also been blocked from the other's blogs, for unknown reasons other than continuing to enjoy reading your posts. So I'll definitely continue to support you.
Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them a lot. You know I am usually not a person of sentiment, but this message does make me experience that. Maybe this situation has taken its toll on me, making me more sentimental and emotional. Sentiment, the grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment, and now it's affecting me as well. Or maybe it's just the flattering words that affect me. Either way, thank you, you are a great help in these times.
I will not let them silence me any longer. My silence is over now.
There is quite a lot to deduce from the information you provided. I think it's quite obvious to most of you what those actions of blocking followers mean.
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