#click peddles

[clickpeddles]

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[sigmabateman]

i'm curious, what is bfr73?

brf73 is a fictional snuff film released in 2021, set in 1973. it's the first installment of the snuff psycho series, which details the protagonist's descent into infamy. couldnt tell you how it ends though cause i never finished it, and i'll never get to cause it doesn't exist anymore. like all the weird shit i post about it's a product of alex, and brf guy is one of the over 100 characters i mentioned in the linked post. unfortunately for sickos everywhere, afaik everything he was ever in has been wiped from the internet save for some gutted reddit posts with little more than a description and a timestamp. last time i heard he considered brf his best work, and i kind of agree. it's this wonderful balance between ambitious narrative and controlled storytelling that skirts the line between an authentic atmosphere and the batshit excitement of good snuff. that's kind of why im so cagey about it - i post a lot of horror stuff but 'good snuff' i feel like crosses a bit of a line. even if it is how i feel...

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 6

Bruce's eye twitched as he forced the well-worn grin on his face.

It was a subtle thing, one that Tim would have thought he had imagined if he didnt know better, but he did.

Across from the both of them was Vlad Masters, he was a tall man, taller than Tim but still shorter than Bruce, all of him screamed rich villian, that is other than the way the second Bruce made a comment off hand about the Gotham Knights football team.

It was then the cruel looking man melted away, and Vlad Masters devolved into a chattering 40 something that knows far too much about the Green Bay Packers.

"Oh if I could go back in time and see that touch down again I could die a happy man" Vlad said with a wistful looking smile on his face, eyes glazed over in memories before he seemed to snap out of it and shake his head, a light dusting of pink came across his cheeks, lighting up his papery skin.

"Ah...do please forgive me...I seem to have gotten a tad bit carried away..." Tim bit back a scoff as he leaned back into his chair, they had been talking for almost a full hour and nearly all of it was Vlad ranting.

Bruce let out a small chuckle that sounded fake even to Tim, "No worry Mister Masters! Perhaps next time the Knights go against the Packers we can share a box!"

Tim knew this was to help sell the whole 'Brucie' act, but he still couldn't keep the cringe on his face, "B? Um...the Knights are a minor leauge team they...ugh forget it." Rubbing at his eyes, Tim cut off the words that Masters looked ready to say, "What was it again that you asked for a meeting Mister Masters? Something about..."

Looking down to his tablet, Tim sent a check in timer, if Vlad was to strike it would be soon "some sort of collaboration? With your subsidiary Axion Labs?"

Masters seemed a little taken back from Tim's thinly vailed bluntness but pushed onward, "Of course, my dear employees at the labs have been working on an interesting new energy source! You see it's fully green and has a positive net energy production." He paused for a moment and a sneer like condescending grin got plastered on his face, "That is Mister Wayne, meaning it produces more energy then we put in it."

Bruce's eyes crinkled as his cheesy grin could only grew more, "Thank you! I was just about to ask, my dear boy Tim here is far better at understanding all that...wiggley wobbly science things!"

(Liar) Tim thought before sending Masters a bashful smile, "I know enough that what your saying is astounding to hear...why come to Wanye Enterprises with this?"

Masters grin was predatory as he spoke smoothly "Well~ Lex and I have a...bit of a history so I couldn't possibly be able to work this with him, Queen Industries are more biotechincal in nature, while WE is far more wide spread! Not only do you have a tech division, but also medical, defense and mechanical divisions!"

Things were clicking in Tims mind, Masters wanted to use WE to distribute, make them stake their own reputation for what Masters was peddling.

Bruce's persona was slipping slightly, his blue eyes steely as he looked Masters down, "We will need a working concept before we can press onward for anything else."

Masters kept the grin on for a second longer before it slipped, "Of course, I will go above that and even send my two top scientists here to demonstrate-"

He was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from Tim's tablet, making him wince as he rushed to imput the code for the check in timer, sending the man a small smile Tim spoke, "So sorry about that, I thought I put that on silent...but do look at the time Bruce, We have a meeting with Lucius in twenty minutes, did you get those slides done?"

Sending Bruce a sideways glance, Tim watched as the man stiffened but shook his head, "I did not. I am sorry Vladdie, but we will have to cut this short, I am sure you know how many meetings it takes to run a company...but please, do meet with Maddie my receptionist to schedule those scientists of yours to come over yes?"

Tim could have sworn he saw a blood vessel pop as Masters hissed a little before he gave a terse nod, "Of course...Maddie you said? Yes...I do think I will speak to her." The man seemed to calm rapidly at the name, and seemed to almost float out of the meeting room.

---

Bruce let his persona fall the same time his head fell into his hands, the heels of his palms rubbing at his eyes.

There was silence in the meeting room, he could hear Tim's fingers pattering against the tempered glass of his tablet, and the soft chatter of the office from the outside and the ever faint sound of wind whipping around the high rise tower.

Picking his head up, he looked to Tim, doing a few hand motions, "DO. BUG. SWEEP" Getting a nod in response, Bruce went over the meeting.

Something was definitely strange about Masters, he was only 48 and yet fully gray, his skin was waxy and looked translucent, deathly pale, he had a cain but didn't have a limp.

Not to mention a seemingly tense history with Lex Luthor, to the point he would seek out WE instead of Lex for his seemingly miracle energy source and-

"Clear B, not a bug in place. "

"Hn" Bruce grunted in response, trying to get his brain back on track.

The energy source was another thing that was sticking out to Bruce, it sounded far too good to be true, it broke the laws of physics to-

"Bruce? What do you think of him? Suspect or...?" Tim spoke again, and Bruce let out a small sigh, his deductions would have to wait till later.

"I think we will need to monitor him closely, I have Drs Fentons are his lead researchers..."

---

Scrunching up his face, Danny stuffed his face into his elbow before sneezing thrice, groaning for a moment before he straightened up, rubbing at his nose, the Halfa came over to the sink in the kitchen of the Diner.

It was his second day as an over night chef and he was honestly having fun? Like cooking is so much cooler when the food wasn't actively reanimated and trying to kill him.

The diner was at a new place, now it was on the old rail ways that ran through Park Row, or how the people that lived there called it Crime Alley.

He had been nervous at first, because he had felt the familiar shiver of entering another beings haunt, but thankfully the diner was stationed just out of the haunts bounds.

Biting back a little yawn, Danny flipped a page in Lunch Ladys, only to see the recipe shift and change, going from a tuna casserole to one for a classic chili.

Blinking a few times at the book, he sighed, "Well alright then." Taking note of the ingredients, Danny drummed his fingers in the book, it was obviously more than just a simple cook book, with it, you know, actually shifting and changing each page.

Shaking his head, Danny straightened up and stopped leaning over the counter, "So...Spooktastical Chili? No that sounds dumb...Cursed Cauldron Chili? Closer..." thinking out loud, Danny set a massive pot over the stove, flipping the flame on as he work shopped cheesy names for his new dish.

---

Jason had an itch.

The kind that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard you scratched at it.

The problem he couldn't get even a second of relief since the itch was in his chest, right dab in the middle.

Rubbing at it as he groaned, Jason rolled off his bed and stood, it was late, he had finished patrol an hour ago and he just...

Felt the itch to do something, to go see something that was just right out of reach.

Sighing as he stumbled around his room, grabbing discarded jeans and an old hoodie with the arms cut off, slipping them on as he left the small bedroom of the safe house.

Stopping in the tiny kitchen, Jason did his best Bat glare (tm) at the empty refrigerator, letting out a grumble as he slammed the door closed.

"Fuckin...shit." flipping the cabinet doors open he glared at the small tub of mostly empty peanut butter and sleeve of crackers that were clearly ripped into by a rat.

"Fuckity fuck fuck..." sure there were spices, so many spices, but he wanted to eat, not cook, Alfred had spoiled that feeling into him through many years.

Slamming them closed as well, Jason growled as he stomped over to his boots, toeing them on before he stormed out of his safe house, fumbling with his keys to lock it behind him.

And with that he set out on the Alley, letting his feet carry him through the streets, he waved at some of the friendlier working girls and boys, but kept walking.

It took a moment for him to realize where he was going, to that little mom and pop diner that closed years ago, they used to give him left overs when he was still one of the dirty street rats trying to live...

"Since fucking when did the lights in that place turn on?" Stopping outside of what he had thought was a clossed down diner, Jason squinted at the banner stretched above the doorway.

"Big C's diner? No...old guys name was like Tony, so ain't their kids that wanted to take over..."

Before Jason could stop himself, his hand was already around the door handle, and he was pulling it open.

[snarky-badger]

Places to donate to help Palestine

PCRF.net - They did over a 100 medical missions in 2022 (Palestine Children’s Relief Fund)

Middle East Children's Alliance - A Non-profit organization fighting for the well-being and rights of Middle Eastern Children. They also have a link to a 'tool kit' to help spread information about the Gaza Genocide. I'm linking to it directly HERE

Anera: Where Hope Finds a Way - They provide everything from food, medicine and hygiene kits. $30 equals 16 blood bags - an essential thing for helping doctors help people survive horrible physical trauma.

UNICEF.org - Link to where you can donate to help UNICEF get aid to those suffering in Palestine.

And because I know damn well that lots of people don't have the extra funds to donate money - you can help by simply clicking here once a day. It donates ad revenue. Click to help Palestine

[I wanted so much to find other places people could donate that weren't in the US or Canada, but I was having problems figuring out how to ensure that they were reputable. If anyone knows of any, please reblog and add the links!]

And some basic informational sources for those who want to understand what's really going on other than the misleading information from the media.

BDS - The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions movement works to end international support for Israel's oppression of Palestinians. Offers actual news about what's happening.

Decolonize Palestine - In depth information about the history and origins of Palestine. Also has a great 'debunked myths' section that lists almost all of all the lies the Media has been peddling.

Mondoweiss - An independent website devoted to informing readers about developments in Israel/Palestine and related US foreign policy. (Be aware: Some articles show disturbing images of the horrors happening in Gaza.)

Petitions I found with reputable track records (there are a LOT of fakes out there)

Canada:

Independant Jewish Voices Canada - Gaza on the Brink Ceasefire Now! - Prewritten letter to Justin Trudeau and Mélanie Joly calling for an immediate ceasefire, and for an end to the collective punishment of Palestinians. Just sign your name and it sends a letter!

There are several other ways (Including email addresses to various people/companies, as well as physical addresses you can mail letters to) listed here.

DON'T send threats/hate mail. That does nothing but make them double down on their current stances. Be polite. You don't have to take a happy tone, but be polite.

United States:

USA - Tell Congress: Stop Fueling the Gaza Genocide - Demanding an immediate ceasefire and for Humanitarian Aid to be allowed into Gaza.

Jewish Voice for Peace - You can use their form for send a letter to Congress to demand that they should focus on de-escalation instead of sending money and weapons to Israel so they can continue their genocidal war against Palestinians.

Jewish Voice for Peace (part 2) - Fill out this form and inform President Biden that he should call for a ceasefire and stop supplying money and weapons to Israel.

[skaruresonic]

The common rebuttal to "this reads like fanfic (derogatory)" is "read better fanfic," which is true in certain cases, but on the other hand, there is some grain of truth to the idea that you can tell when someone's primary mode of literary analysis is fanfic instead of... well... literally anything else. It's okay to like or even prefer fanfic, but if you want to take your craft seriously you also need to read books, dude. Published books will teach you a lot of stuff fanfic doesn't, like proper dialogue formatting and how to introduce your reader to unfamiliar characters. Even the crappiest book (well, if it's not After or 50 Shades, which started off as fanfic to begin with lol) will have been subjected to some sort of editing process to ensure at least the appearance of proper grammar. That's not a guarantee with your average fanfic, and hence why you can't always take all your writing cues from fanfic because it's "so much better" than commercially published original fiction or whatever. Frankly, fic writers tend to peddle some absolutist and downright bad takes sometimes. "Said is dead" is a terrible rule, though not because said is invisible and a perfectly serviceable tag; that's just part of it. Dialogue tags are a garnish, not a main dish that can be swapped out for more ostentatious words. If your characters murmur and mutter instead of simply saying stuff, your readers are going to wonder why nobody speaks up. "'I'm explaining some very plot-important shit right now lol,' she elaborated," likewise, is a form of telling. Instead of letting the reader extrapolate that "she elaborated" via the contents of the dialogue itself, you're telling them what to think about it. And that's why it's distracting: your authorial hand is showing. Writing is an act of camouflage. You, as the writer, need to make your presence as invisible as possible so as to not intrude on the reader's suspension of disbelief. That's the driving reason behind "show, don't tell." And overall, everyone could stand to cut down on the frequency of their dialogue tags anyway. Not every exchange needs "he said" or "she whispered" attached as long as you establish who is doing the talking before the exchange. Some people will complain of confusion if you go on for too long without a dialogue tag, and that definitely is a risk, but at some point you also need to resist the temptation of holding the reader's hand. If they can't follow a conversation between two people, chances are they weren't meeting you halfway and paying that much attention in the first place. In fact, you don't even necessarily need action beats in between every piece of dialogue, as Tumblr writing advice posts will often suggest as a fix. Pruning things often cleans them up just fine.

Another fanfic-influenced trend in writing is, I guess, beige prose? A heavy focus on internal narration with lots of telling. It's not a style I can concretely describe, but every time I click on a non-mutual's writing, I feel like it always has, like. This "samey" voice to it. There's no real attempt to experiment and use unique or provocative language, or even imagery half the time. It's almost a dry recital of narration that doesn't leave much room for subtext. I see this style most often in fanfic where you can meander and wax poetic about how the characters feel without ever really getting around to the plot. And it's like. DO something.

Other tells that the author is taking their cues from fanfic mores rather than books: >>too much minute description of eyes, especially their color and their movement >>doesn't leave much room for subtext (has a character speak their every thought aloud instead of letting the reader infer what they're thinking via action or implication) >>too much stage action ("X looked at Y. Y moved to push their seat in. X took a deep breath and stepped toward Y with a determined look on his face. 'We need to talk,' he said.") >>tells instead of shows, even when the example is about showing instead of telling ("he clenched his teeth in agony" instead of just "he clenched his teeth") >>has improper dialogue tag formatting, especially with putting full stops where there should be commas ("'Lol and lmao.' she said" instead of "'Lol and lmao,' she said." This one drives me up a wall) >>uses too many dialogue tags >>"em dashes, semi-colons and commas, my beloved" - I get the appeal but full stops are your friends. Too much alternate punctuation makes your writing seem stilted and choppy. >>"he's all tousled brown hair and hard muscle" and "she's all smiles and long legs." This turn of phrase is so cliche, it drives me up a wall. Find less trite ways of describing your characters pls. >>"X released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding" >>every fucking Hot Guy ever is described as lean and sinewy >>sobbing. why is everyone sobbing. some restraint, pls >>Tumblr in general tends to think a truism counts as good writing if you make the most melodramatic statement possible (bonus: if it's written in a faux-archaic way), garnish it with a hint of egotism, and toss in allusions to the Christian God, afterlife, or death. ("I will stare God in the face and walk backwards into hell," "What is a god to a nonbeliever?") It's indicative of emotional immaturity imo, that every emotional truth need be expressed That Intensely in order to resonate with people. >>pushes the "Oh." moment as the pinnacle of Romantic Epiphany >>Therapy Speak dialogue. why is this emotionally constipated forty-something man who drinks himself stupid every morning to escape gruesome war memories speaking about his trauma like a clinical psychologist >>"this well-established kuudere should Show More Emoshun. I want him to break down crying on his love interest's shoulder from all his repressed trauma" - I am begging u. stop >>"why don't the characters just talk to each other?" "why can't we have healthy relationships?" I don't know, maybe because fiction is not supposed to be a model for reality and perfect communication makes for boring drama?

>>improperly using actions as dialogue tags ("'Looks like we're going hunting,' he grinned") >>why is everyone muttering and murmuring. speak up >>too many adverbs, especially "weakly" and "shakily." use stronger verbs. ("trembled" instead of "shook weakly") >>too many epithets ("the younger man" or "the brunette detective") >>too many filter words ("he felt," "she thought," "I remembered")

>>no, Tumblr, first-person POV is not the devil; you're just using way too many filter words (see above) and not enough sentence variation to make it flow well enough. First-person POV is an actually pretty good POV (not just for unreliable and self-aware narrators) if you know what you're doing and a lot of fun crafting an engaging character voice. Tumblr's hatred of first-person baffles me, and all I can think is you would only hate it if your only frame of reference was, like, My Immortal. Have you tried reading A Book? First-person POV is just another tool in your toolbox, and like all tools, it can be used properly or improperly. But it's not inherently a marker of bad writing. The disdain surrounding it strikes me as about as sensical as making fun of the concept of characters. Oh, your work has characters in it? Ew, I automatically click off a fic if it has characters in it. like what.

[levyfiles]

is it just me or is this kinda not a good idea?

I think it's a gamble. And like anyone who cares about something deeply, watching it take a high-stakes gamble can be terrifying.

What I think people don't take into consideration is just how flooded their recent youtube videos have been with scammy sponsors and cheap fast-product get-rich-quick scheming vendors. Sure, their writers and producers made it fun by adding some really excellent characters to the mix, but I wouldn't touch a thing like Mistplay if you paid me as much as they paid Watcher for their video. However, the thing is, look around at all the youtubers you know who are up and coming. You can't make it on that platform without advertising trash to your audience.

With the vimeo OTT program, i believe there is a shared revenue and more incentive to promote more simple dedicated engagement; it's not ad sense clicks; it's just clicks. It's a soft start and there are going to be some kinks to work out but if they get to control their brand more and decide what gets made without needing some nu-venture, cash hungry sponsor to look at it, then I think they could change media online for the better.

Having said all that, the execution? Not their best. Watcher--listen, I love them so much--has had a consistent and terminal administrative problem and that means stuff falls through the cracks. From a communicative standpoint, when you're about to take your company in a controversial direction, you should know two things.

The backlash! You gotta get ahead of it. You need your PR team on the go a MONTH before launch

Always soft launch a big move. Get your feelers out for how people react especially if you don't have the kind of shark PR person who would know already that people don't respond well to paying for something they didn't used to pay for.

Watcher is still a baby company in so many forms and I will wholeheartedly support their move to do what they can to keep control of their creative content today and in the future. I'm not in their offices so I can't make as prescriptive a judgement as Twitter feels emboldened to about capitalism and greed or whoever they think their audience is however I can and will say that with any form of growth, the growing pains are going to show. i'll give them grace as they pivot and figure out how best to move forward especially with the volume of vitriol the internet loves to spew when they feel entitled to art forms that used to be free.

I'll say it again. At least we're no longer having garbage peddled at us regardless how much I crave Fabian Sax biblically.

[writinground2]

The Trainer; Leah’s Big Move

Part of the "The Trainer and the Rookie Series".

Leah makes the first move.

Leah had had her workout earlier that afternoon with some of the returning veterans, followed by treatment. She did her best to subtly take as long as she could, hoping to be able to leave around the same time Y/N was ready to go. She added a few extra sets to each exercise, took her time with some mobility work, and finally sat on the bike at the end until all the players left the weight room. Leah made sure to put her name on the bottom of the treatment list, claiming she needed extra tome to regulate her temperature after her ice bath before having a shower. 

Finally, Leah was getting her treatment done by one of the other athletic therapists while Y/N finished with her last player. Leah smiled to herself when she realized she had managed to delay everything long enough that she should be able to leave once Y/N was ready to go. 

Leah kept glancing into the training room, spying the trainers cleaning up, impatiently waiting for Y/N to be done. Leah groaned internally when she noticed the other trainer waiting to also walk out with Y/N. She was about to slump into her lockers when she heard Y/N usher him out, claiming she was going to workout before leaving. Had she not caught the slight smirk on Y/N’s face, she would have been disappointed to have waited as long as she did, for nothing. 

The trainer bid them both good-bye before leaving, Leah pretending to tie her shoe to look busy. 

“You’re not actually working out, are you?” 

“No,” Y/N let out a laugh, “I just couldn’t get him to leave without waiting for me. And I could see how impatient you were getting out here. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you willingly sit on a bike that long before.” 

She gave her a nudge as they made their way towards the parking lot. 

“Remember today then, that will never be happening again!” 

Leah nudged her in return, smiling wide at the older woman. She contained herself to not tuck into Y/N’s side as they walked. 

Y/N paused briefly at the door, holding it open for the blonde, gently guiding her through with her hand on the small of her back. 

Leah leaned into the touch, slowing her step, and causing Y/N’s front to briefly press against her back. 

“Such a gentleman!” she teased, turning her body towards Y/N’s front, patting stomach twice before stopping. 

“Oh shush,” Y/N blushed, gently pushing Leah away from her. 

Not to be deterred, Leah stopped walking and turned her body to face Y/N, forcing her to stop as well. 

“Why don’t you leave your bike here,” she softly flicked the bike helmet in Y/N’s hands, “and I’ll drive you to work in the morning after you make me breakfast.” 

Leah bit her lip, waiting for Y/N to respond. 

“You’re trouble Williamson,” Y/N blushed, putting her helmet on, but remained close to the blonde. 

Leah tried not to let herself feel defeated. She knew she was still going over to Y/N’s and would be spending the evening with her. She was starting to realize that the bold flirting wasn’t working and would have to find another approach. 

Watching the trainer, all Leah wanted to do was close the remaining space and kiss her. All she could think about when she was alone with the trainer was touching her. Just in general, just to lean into her side or wrap her arm around her waist. The pair were the same height, so they would fit together so perfectly.

She could picture those arms wrapped around her body, holding her securely to her chest. 

She imagined Y/N soft and pliant below her traced the sharp contours of her body.  

She remembered the way Y/N guided her to the inside of the sidewalk while they walked together, gently protecting her from pushy pedestrians.

Leah focused back on when she heard the click of Y/N’s bike helmet. 

“Race ya!” 

Y/N had unlocked her bike while Leah had zoned out and was already peddling away. 

“Cheater!” 

She rushed to unlock her car as she jogged to the driver door, throwing her bag across the centre console as she started the car. 

“Hey! Look who decided to show up!” Y/N laughed while she stood by the door of her flat as Leah walked up with a pout. 

“I would have got here first, but parking around her sucks.”

Y/N let out a laugh, still breathing heavy as she unlocked the door, ushering Leah in with a gentle hand on her back again. 

“Do you mind if I start supper after a quick shower? I worked up a sweat winning.”

Y/N smirked at the blonde.

Leah clenched her jaw. The comment doing nothing to her, but the domesticity of the situation was too much. 

Y/N stepped forward, reaching her hand towards Leah’s shoulder before pulling away at the least second, redirecting to rub the back of her neck with a blush. All Leah could do was give a small nod, and a squeak of a yes. 

“I didn’t think I was in there that long. Or that you could cook without burning my apartment down.” 

Y/N walked into the kitchen while Leah pulled plates out of the cupboard. Leah inhaled deeply, smelling the light scent of Y/N’s woodsy bodywash getting stronger, the closer Y/N got.

“You keep cooking for me, I thought it was time I returned the favour. But, since I can’t cook, I ordered in. One of the chefs at the facility mentioned this good French place near here to try.”

She leaned her low back against the counter, stretching her arms out along the cool marble, the food, and plates behind her. 

Y/N stepped forward, trying to see over the blonde to determine what food Leah had ordered. 

Leah pushed her hands off the counter to stand taller, causing the space between them to close. Toes touching on the floor, all either woman needed to do was stand taller to close the distance all together. 

Y/n clenched her hands before tucking them behind her back. Leach clenched her jaw briefly. What else did she need to do to get Y/N to make a move on her?

The defender stood a little taller to cause their chests to brush. She put her palms on Y/N’s hips before gently guiding her to walk backward towards the table, keeping them flush together as much as she could. When Y/N’s back bumped the table, Leah took another half step forward, causing them be more firmly pressed together. She brushed her nose against Y/N, earning a small sigh to escape her lips and her eyes closing. Leah smiled. 

“Don’t worry,” she breathed out softly, “I got as close to chicken and broccoli as I could for you. Sit down.”

With a small push, Leah walked backwards into the kitchen, watching Y/N. 

Keeping her eyes closed, Y/N nodded before fumbling for her chair to sit down. 

Leah smiled proudly to herself, before beginning to dish out the food for them both. 

“I know you love your stereotypical chicken and broccoli as a trainer, but I thought you could try something different tonight.” 

Leah placed two plates down, each with a chicken breast sliced up and a pile of mixed vegetables. Y/N laughed when she saw the plates. The blonde defender teased her constantly about how consistent and cliché her diet was, mostly being made up of chicken and broccoli. 

“That’s ironic coming from you. But thank you Leah, this is very sweet.”

Y/N stretched a handout, giving Leah’s hand a quick squeeze, causing the defender to flush pink up her neck and cheeks. 

Leah glanced quickly to Y/N to see if she noticed, but Y/N was already poking around the vegetable to see what all was there. 

By the time the pair finished their food, the last couple bites were cold because they became so enthralled listening to each other speak.  

Y/N begun clearing the table, Leah quickly followed suit, helping pile the few dishes into the dishwasher. The pair worked in tandem to clean the kitchen swiftly. Leah once again had to clench her jaw at the simplicity of cleaning the kitchen with Y/N. 

Leah let out a small huff when she saw how much distance there was between her and Y/N on the couch when they sat down to start a movie. Some random comedy she thought, they knew they would talk throughout most of it anyway. She had sat on the far end of the couch, hoping Y/N would sit close enough she could tug her to lean against her. Instead, Y/N sat at the other end of the couch, with her legs stretched out and resting on the coffee table, one arm sprawled along the back of the couch with the other leaning on the armrest. 

Waiting a few moments, Leah kept her eyes on Y/N’s frame. Her arm resting on the back of the couch gave her the perfect chance to settle her body against Y/N’s. 

Making her move, Leah moved from her spot into the space Y/N had left open. The blonde left no space between them. She settled her weight against Y/N’s side, she reached back and tugged Y/N’s arm drape over her shoulders. 

Y/N shifted slightly, and Leah tensed. 

Y/N adjusted her arm pull Leah even more snuggly against her. Leah let out a breath and rested her head against Y/N’s chest, snaking her other arm across Y/N’s torso, gripping the hem of her shirt. 

Leah let out a content sigh, sinking herself into Y/N. 

They sat with the show playing softly in the background for a moment before Y/N spoke up. 

“This is alright, right?”

Leah immediately pushed herself up, hand pushing solidly into Y/N’s hip to herself upright, causing Y/N’s arm to fall limply back on the couch. 

Taking a steadying breath, Leah did her best not to snap. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for weeks.” 

Y/N blushed and kept her focus on the TV in front of her. 

Leah clenched her jaw and waited for Y/N to respond. 

“I wanted to,” Y/N spoke so softly that if Leah hadn’t been so close, she might have missed it, “but I didn’t know if you wanted me to or not. I thought maybe it was all just wishful thinking on my part that you were flirting with.” 

Leah felt her heart clench at the sad way Y/N explained why she hadn’t done anything. 

“I’m not good with this stuff Leah.”

Y/N begun nervously fidgeting with the hem of Leah’s shirt well she worked out what all to say. 

“Not good at what?”

Leah shifted her weight to sooth the crinkle between Y/N’s eyebrows, gently caressing her thumb all the way down her nose. 

“I don’t know,” she gave a defeated shrug, briefly glancing at the blonde to see the soft way she was watching her, “knowing when I’m being flirted with, I guess. I don’t really pick up on it, so people lose interest and move on.” 

Leah shifted again to be able to focus more on Y/N than keeping herself up. Sitting back on her knees, she brought both of Y/N’s hands into hers, kissing the backs before continuing. 

“I like you Y/N,” she gave her hands a quick squeeze, “and I’m pretty sure you do too.”

Y/N smiled and gave a definitive nod, finally meeting the blondes eyes. 

Y/N shifted so her body was angled towards Leah, straightening one leg along the back of the couch, causing Leah to be seated between her legs, the pair now facing each other. 

Leah dropped both of Y/N’s hands, she slid one hand to grip the back of Y/N’s neck and dropped the other to Y/N’s hip again. Leaning in so their noses are just brushing, the pair let out slow breaths to settle themselves. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Waiting for Y/N to give a nod, Leah tugged her the rest of the way in, gently brushing their lips together before pulling back to rest their foreheads together. 

Leah tightened her grip, forcing herself to be patient and not pull Y/N back in right away. 

Y/N snaked an arm around Leah’s waist and pulled her, so they were flush together. Reaching up, she matched Leah’s hand and gently pulled the blonde in for another kiss, this one much firmer.  

Leah shifted so she was straddling Y/N’s thigh, moaning into her mouth as she ground down slightly. Y/N’s grip tightened around her back, her other hand dropping to clutch Leah’s thigh. 

When Leah started to slide a hand up Y/N’s shirt, Y/N pulled away slightly. 

“We should slow down.”

Leah nodded, agreeing, but kept her hand flat against Y/N’s stomach under shirt. She clenched her jaw tightly, willing herself to pull away. 

With a low moan, she pulled herself off Y/N’s thigh. 

Y/N shifted to lie on her back, allowing Leah to lay fully on top of her. 

Both women worked to slow their breathing and steady their hearts.

“What are we evening watching?”

Y/N gathered herself first. 

“I have no idea,” Leah huffed out a laugh. 

[mytheoristavenue]

Dude I know you don't have any requests but if you ever feel up to it I would absolutely eat up a continuation of your creature x reader fic...perhaps they slowly fall for each other.

Hes just...he's so sweet and the way you write him makes me feral. I'm definitely going to check out your other works.

This is me letting you know that your target audience had been reached

Normally, I would politely decline or ignore requests, as I just don't enjoy doing them anymore for multiple reasons, but I wanted to address this one specifically. Hopefully this isn't too short!

For the sake of this story, let's pretend that the time between the events of the movie span over a longer period.

LF Creature x Reader - Compost

Summary: Creature helps you out in your garden.

Warnings: mentions of rot, bugs, worms, and dung, creature x reader, bisexual reader, reader has a crush on Lisa, continuation of Mutual Comfort, plot holes, not proofread, spelling/gramatical errors, calling Creature Ein

"You look different today," you noticed allowed, squatted over the flower bed, carefully dropping a marigold from your trowel and covering the roots with soil. "Little more alive."

The man behind you grunted in response, prompting you to glance at him over your shoulder. He seemed to have more color in his face, and his hair seemed less stringy. He lifted a discolored hand, and waved it around as if it were an explaination. You simply shrugged, not understanding the meaning, and went back to what you were doing.

"Regaurdless, I appreciate you helping me." you smiled, standing up and admiring your newly replanted marigolds. Another grunt in responce. "Now I need to mix up the compost pile. Mind pushing that wheel barrow over there?" you aske pointing to the object and then to the destination. Nodding, Creature made his way over.

Once he got behind the wheel barrow, however, he scrunched his face in disgust. "What?" you laughed, slumping your shoulders. "Too good for hard labor? He shook his head, letting go of thehandles and covering his nose. Finally, it clicked for you.

"Oh, come on, you big baby. It doesn't stink tha bad." you rolled your eyes, walking over to simply wheel it over yourself. Seeing you prepared to take matters into your own hands, Creature finally pulled himself up by the bootstraps, taking hold of the handles again and pushing it forward. "Its cow dung, if you were curious," you giggled, following him. "My dad has a friend that owns a far and he hooks me up with free manure for the garden."

Once again, Creature grimaced, turning up his nose. "Hey, Zomboy," you scolded playfully. "Your half rotted flest doesn't smell all that much better." He flashed you a hurt expression coupled with a somber groan, making you back peddle. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Finally in front of the compost pile, you grabbed a nearby shovel and began to heave the dung onto the top, the smell never once bothering you. When you were finished, you stuck the shovel in the ground and rested a foot on it, hiking your knee up, and glued your hands to your hips, tired from a hard day's work.

"I don't know about you, but I think today is a good day for some lemonade." You sighed, beginning to walk back toward the house, Creature trailing behind you. "You like lemonade?" He nodded when you glanced back, prompting you to smile. "Go ahead and take a seat," you said, motioning to the patio set to his right. "I'll go get us some."

After a few minutes, you returned, slipping out the back door and into the yard, a glass in each hand, but your eyes lit up before you couven step off the patio. You quickly scurried over to set the glasses down, gushing over what he had. It was a lovely little hand picked bouquet, mostly consisting of wildflowers and weeds. In the short time you were gone, Creature had taken it upon himself to currate you a gift. "Ein..." you breathed, taking it from him and examining it. "You did this for me...?" you asked, oblivious to how silly the question was. He nodded with a timid smile, inviting you to sit with him.

After a moment, your heart dropped, realizing what you'd called him by. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry I called you that!" you fretted. "Lisa told me that was the last little bit of your name, I sholdv'e asked if you'd be kay with being called that."

He seemed to wave your worries off, shaking his head, signalling tha he wasn't bothered. He then bowed his head, something that confused you. "So you are okay with me calling you Ein?" He bowed again, and you were unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, Ein it is then. I suppose we couldn't have just called you 'Creature' forever, right?" He shrugged, as if he truly didn't care what his name ended up being. "Regardless, thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful."

The man couldn't help but stare as you admired the little nosegay, noting how eyes eyes lit up when you smiled and your nose scrunched when you laughed. He actually found himself so invested in observing you while sipping his lemonade that he choked a little when your eyes flitted back to him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" you suddenly jumped up, patting his back as he coughed, hunched over. "Ein? Ein! Are you okay?" you panicked, patting a bit harder, and wondering if the heimlick would even work on a corpse. Luckily, that deemed to be unnessisary as he finally spat up whatever was clogging his airway.There on the table, squirmed a very long, slimy earthworm.

"I-Is...is that a worm?" you grimaced, entirely freaked out as you stared at it, eyes flickering back to his every few seconds. Creature was frozen in place, terrified he'd ruined a lovely moment between the two of you, and slapped his hand over the thing, shaking his head no. "You're telling me I didn't just watch you spit up a worm onto my dad's patio table? You're telling me if I move your hand, there's not gonna be a worm?"

Hesitantly, he shook his head with a nervous smile, resisting as hard as possible when you grabbed his hand to move it. Though you had no time to think about it then, you couldn't help but notice the way the stitches holding his hand on felt under your finger tips- definately an interesting sensation.

Finally, you managed to lift his hand up, still holding it, and proved yourself right, once again staring at the wiggly little thing on the table. With a sigh, and ignoring his protests, you reached down and lifted it into your palm. "Got anymore?"

Creature sheepishly shook his head and got up to follow you as you walked away. "Well, this little guy is going in my compost pile." you decided, pinching the worm out of your palm and setting it on top of the pile. "And if it has any buddies in there, they're welcome to the pile too." you smiled, grabbing his hand again.

"I like you," you confessed with a giggle. "A few little bugs aren't gonna scare me away."

I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for! Sorry it was so rushed, it probably has a million errors, as my gramarly is suddenly not working!

[year2000electronics]

So, like. In your Monster Falls AU, how do the twins react to Stan being a gargoyle? And how did he react to his brother being a monster before he got sucked into the portal?

Did the twins just think it was elaborate makeup to add to the allure of the mystery shack before seeing some of the townsfolk and going "oh. Oh." or something like that?

OOOH good question! so i’ve gone over how stan and ford’s reunion looked like in this post, but the others are new!

i imagine stan doesn’t try to lie to them about the town curse or anything because, like, it’s obvious, and maybe he even kinda shows off to them in a way? it’d be the first time in a while where he felt COOL as a gargoyle. but also he can use the fact that he can fly as an excuse to snoop on people. imagine stan perched on the mystery shack roof like “DIPPER I SEE YOU KEEP MOWING THE LAWN”. amazing

i think at first the kids think that he’s some sort of supernatural fanatic, right, so obsessed with the paranormal that he went and became one (mabel suggests that maybe gargoyles are like vampires? and then she asks dipper if he thinks there’s a cute gargoyle vampire boy in town etc etc) but they end up very confused when literally all stan ever wants to do is peddle fake stuff to tourists. the only thing he’ll show off that’s actually real is his own gargoyle self, which he does lie and claim is practical effects to tourists (but again, that lie doesn’t work for dipper and mabel cos he walks around in his boxers. so they’re let in on it)

once they get cursed, it kinda fully clicks that stan is like that because he’s just part of the cursed town too, and not because he loves the supernatural or anything. they aren’t really sure why he would live in this town, but they suppose it’s the same reason as everyone else in town (rent is cheap, it’s a small community, and would YOU want to leave now that you’re a monster? yeah didn’t think so)

[qqueenofhades]

Hello! This is kind of a weird ask, I'm sorry to bother you, but seeing as you're a very intelligent studied historian that I deeply respect, I was hoping you could offer some advice? Or like, things i could read? Lately, i feel like my critical thinking skills are emaciated and its scaring the shit out of me. I feel very slow and like I'm constantly missing important info in relation to news/history/social activism stuff. Thats so vague, sorry, but like any tips on how i can do better?

Aha, thank you. There was recently a good critical-thinking infograph on my dash, so obviously I thought I remembered who reblogged it and checked their blog, it wasn't them, thought it was someone else, checked their blog, it also wasn't them, and now I can't find it to link to. Alas. But I will try to sum up its main points and add a few of my own. I'm glad you're taking the initiative to work on this for yourself, and I will add that while it can seem difficult and overwhelming to sort through the mass of information, especially often-false, deliberately misleading, or otherwise bad information, there are a few tips to help you make some headway, and it's a skill that like any other skill, gets easier with practice. So yes.

The first and most general rule of thumb I would advise is the same thing that IT/computer people tell you about scam emails. If something is written in a way that induces urgency, panic, the feeling that you need to do something RIGHT NOW, or other guilt-tripping or anxiety-inducing language, it is -- to say the least -- questionable. This goes double if it's from anonymous unsourced accounts on social media, is topically or thematically related to a major crisis, or anything else. The intent is to create a panic response in you that overrides your critical faculties, your desire to do some basic Googling or double-checking or independent verification of its claims, and makes you think that you have to SHARE IT WITH EVERYONE NOW or you are personally and morally a bad person. Unfortunately, the world is complicated, issues and responses are complicated, and anyone insisting that there is Only One Solution and it's conveniently the one they're peddling should not be trusted. We used to laugh at parents and grandparents for naively forwarding or responding to obviously scam emails, but now young people are doing the exact same thing by blasting people with completely sourceless social media tweets, clips, and other manipulative BS that is intended to appeal to an emotional gut rather than an intellectual response. When you panic or feel negative emotions (anger, fear, grief, etc) you're more likely to act on something or share questionable information without thinking.

Likewise, you do have basic Internet literacy tools at your disposal. You can just throw a few keywords into Google or Wikipedia and see what comes up. Is any major news organization reporting on this? Is it obviously verifiable as a fake (see the disaster pictures of sharks swimming on highways that get shared after every hurricane)? Can you right-click, perform a reverse image search, and see if this is, for example, a picture from an unrelated war ten years ago instead of an up-to-date image of the current conflict? Especially with the ongoing Israel/Palestine imbroglio, we have people sharing propaganda (particularly Hamas propaganda) BY THE BUCKETLOAD and masquerading it as legitimate news organizations (tip: Quds News Network is literally the Hamas channel). This includes other scuzzy dirtbag-left websites like Grayzone and The Intercept, which often have implicit or explicit links to Russian-funded disinformation campaigns and other demoralizing or disrupting fake news that is deliberately designed to turn young left-leaning Westerners against the Democrats and other liberal political parties, which enables the electoral victory of the fascist far-right and feeds Putin's geopolitical and military aims. Likewise, half of our problems would be solved if tankies weren't so eager to gulp down and propagate anything "anti-Western" and thus amplify the Russian disinformation machine in a way even the Russians themselves sometimes struggle to do, but yeah. That relates to both Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine.

Basically: TikTok, Twitter/X, Tumblr itself, and other platforms are absolutely RIFE with misinformation, and this is due partly to ownership (the Chinese government and Elon Fucking Musk have literally no goddamn reason whatsoever to build an unbiased algorithm, and have been repeatedly proven to be boosting bullshit that supports their particular worldviews) and partly due to the way in which the young Western left has paralyzed itself into hypocritical moral absolutes and pseudo-revolutionary ideology (which is only against the West itself and doesn't think that the rest of the world has agency to act or think for itself outside the West's influence, They Are Very Smart and Anti-Colonialist!) A lot of "information" in left-leaning social media spaces is therefore tainted by this perspective and often relies on flat-out, brazen, easily disprovable lies (like the popular Twitter account insisting that Biden could literally just overturn the Supreme Court if he really wanted to). Not all misinformation is that easy to spot, but with a severe lack of political, historical, civic, or social education (since it's become so polarized and school districts generally steer away from it or teach the watered-down version for fear of being attacked by Moms for Liberty or similar), it is quickly and easily passed along by people wanting trite and simplistic solutions for complex problems or who think the extent of social justice is posting the Right Opinions on social media.

As I said above, everything in the world is complicated and has multiple factors, different influences, possible solutions, involved actors, and external and internal causes. For the most part, if you're encountering anything that insists there's only one shiningly righteous answer (which conveniently is the one All Good and Moral People support!) and the other side is utterly and even demonically in the wrong, that is something that immediately needs a closer look and healthy skepticism. How was this situation created? Who has an interest in either maintaining the status quo, discouraging any change, or insisting that there's only one way to engage with/think about this issue? Who is being harmed and who is being helped by this rhetoric, including and especially when you yourself are encouraged to immediately spread it without criticism or cross-checking? Does it rely on obvious lies, ideological misinformation, or something designed to make you feel the aforementioned negative emotions? Is it independently corroborated? Where is it sourced from? When you put the author's name into Google, what comes up?

Also, I think it's important to add that as a result, it's simply not possible to distill complicated information into a few bite-sized and easily digestible social media chunks. If something is difficult to understand, that means you probably need to spend more time reading about it and encountering diverse perspectives, and that is research and work that has to take place primarily not on social media. You can ask for help and resources (such as you're doing right now, which I think is great!), but you can't use it as your chief or only source of information. You can and should obviously be aware of the limitations and biases of traditional media, but often that has turned into the conspiracy-theory "they never report on what's REALLY GOING ON, the only information you can trust is random anonymous social media accounts managed by God knows who." Traditional media, for better or worse, does have certain evidentiary standards, photographing, sourcing, and verifying requirements, and other ways to confirm that what they're writing about actually has some correspondence with reality. Yes, you need to be skeptical, but you can also trust that some of the initial legwork of verification has been done for you, and you can then move to more nuanced review, such as wording, presentation of perspective, who they're interviewing, any journalistic assumptions, any organizational shortcomings, etc.

Once again: there is a shit-ton of stuff out there, it is hard to instinctively know or understand how to engage with it, and it's okay if you don't automatically "get" everything you read. That's where the principle of actually taking the time to be informed comes in, and why you have to firmly divorce yourself from the notion that being socially aware or informed means just instantly posting or sharing on social media about the crisis of the week, especially if you didn't know anything about it beforehand and are just relying on the Leftist Groupthink to tell you how you should be reacting. Because things are complicated and dangerous, they take more effort to unpick than just instantly sharing a meme or random Twitter video or whatever. If you do in fact want to talk about these things constructively, and not just because you feel like you're peer-pressured into doing so and performing the Correct Opinions, then you will in fact need to spend non-social-media time and effort in learning about them.

If you're at a university, there are often subject catalogues, reference librarians, and other built-in tools that are there for you to use and which you SHOULD use (that's your tuition money, after all). That can help you identify trustworthy information sources and research best practices, and as you do that more often, it will help you have more of a feel for things when you encounter them in the wild. It's not easy at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes more so, and will make you more confident in your own judgments, beliefs, and values. That way when you encounter something that you KNOW is wrong, you won't be automatically pressured to share it just to fit in, because you will be able to tell yourself what the problems are.

Good luck!

[bugsbenefit]

genuinely still baffled by the "they don't need to address Mike's sexuality, all that matters is that he's in love with Will" crowd. especially when people say it who claim to care about Mike's character (when you could also just say you don't really care for that part of the show, which would be fine, no one cares about all characters/arcs)

because Surely you realize how him being gay or bi would change his entire character, right. whether he's attracted to girls or not would change the way all his actions up until now are to be interpreted. not even making a statement on his sexuality here, this is generally speaking

if he was actually attracted to El you'd have to address when and why he suddenly stopped loving El since in fiction "it just happened" isn't usually a satisfying answer to breaking a multi season couple up. Why is Will it for him? he's been acting weird for ages so when did he realize? and what made it click he fell out of love with El for good? you'd have to give some explanation for why he was able to proclaim his love for El accidentally in s3 and then fail to do it in the same season while looking uncomfortable with kissing her and so on since his pov was so majorly withheld

if he's not attracted to girls his arc in s5 needs to focus more on comphet and how dating El affected him/why he felt he couldn't break up with her/homophobic attitude in his surrounding slash Hawkins. or the idea of platonic and romantic love in general. there would be no how he got from point A(El) to point B(Will), like what the focus of a bi!Mike s5 arc would have to be on to explain what happened, but a focus on how he ended up at point A in the first place and why he was stuck there/how it affected him

and even core moments of the series would have entirely different meanings depending on if he's attracted to girls. "it's not my fault you don't like girls" being a peak example. if he's gay it's easy to explain it with projection. if he IS attracted to girls though it would read as a much more intentional (even if blurted out) act of homophobia, since it would be him pointing something out that Will genuinely does (not liking being around girls) but he himself can't relate to

and that's all just the surface level differences. Mike being attracted to girls or not being attracted to girls would give his arc an entirely different focus in s5. AS WELL as make his past actions have entirely different meanings. the idea that "it doesn't matter for his character" is so insanely wrong it's wild how many people confidently peddle it

[mountttmase]

Safe Place

Note - before reading please click here so you can introduce yourself to Nala 🐶 I hope you enjoy and I’d really love it if you could leave me some feedback 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3.6k

Warnings - fluff and smut

‘You sure you’ve got hold of her Ollie?’ You asked, watching as your dog Nala pulled on the lead. She was still just a puppy, albeit a large one, and Ollie was pretty big for an eight year old but you were still trying to train Nala to come back at the sound of her name and you didn’t need her running off and getting lost.

‘I got her’ he told you, walking a few steps in front of you so he could try and catch up with Tilly who was currently just ahead on her trike seeing how fast she could go, leaving you and Mason to walk hand in hand just behind them.

Family dog walks were a new thing for the five of you, but you made sure at least once a week to go out to the local nature park for a long walk and some family time. Thankfully the kids seemed to love it and it did Mason some good to get out with you all for some fresh air to clear his head.

‘Look at this I took in the car’ he suddenly mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and shoving the screen in your face.

It was a video of Tilly in her car seat, Nala laying next to her with her head on Tilly’s lap and your heart gave a squeeze as you watched her tiny hand scratch over Nala’s head in a comforting way.

‘Ohhh, that’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen’ you cried, dropping your bottom lip as you looked up to Mason and his cheeky smile. ‘They’re gonna be best friends I know it’

‘It’s so sweet isn’t it?’ he laughed, pulling you in front of him gently so he could wrap his arms around your waist as you walked. It was a little bit awkward at first but you got into the rhythm of it and soon enough his lips were pressing soft kisses to your temple. ‘I really want another one’ he told you softly, causing your face to a scrunch up in confusion.

‘Another dog? We’ve only just got Nala and as cute as she is she’s a lot of work’

‘Not a dog, you plum’ he laughed, squeezing you a little tighter and nestling his nose into your hair. ‘A baby’

You stopped in your tracks, body freezing at his words before you looked up at him like he’d gone mad. ‘A baby? Seriously Mase, what the hell?’ You laughed.

‘Look at them’ he told you, nodding forward to Ollie and Tilly who were just up ahead and you felt your heart thump as you watched them laugh and play with Nala together. ‘I know I’m biased but I think we make the most beautiful babies’

‘We do’ you giggled, letting him push you forward so you’d start walking again and you couldn’t ignore the way you shivered when he placed his hands flat against your tummy.

‘And you know I think you’re sexy as hell when you’re pregnant. Think of all the sex we get to have too’ he teased, trying to convince you but it wasn’t like the pair of you weren’t having sex often. If anything you were surprised at how you could still barely keep your hands off of each other even after all this time. ‘I just miss looking after a little one you know? One at the lads in the fitness team has just had a baby and it made me want another one. Plus Tilly starts school soon and Ollie is basically a man now’ he joked, squeezing your sides as the pair of you laughed. ‘But you know I’d never force you. It’s your body and if it’s too much I get it’ he reassured you. ‘I just got a bit broody in the back of the car and thought I’d mention it’

It’s not that you didn’t want another baby, agreeing with him that you missed having a little one around to watch grow and he was right. With Tilly off to school soon it’s not like you wouldn’t have the time and as each second passed you were seeming becoming more convinced.

‘Not not to lay it on thick or anything but when I put Tilly to bed the other night she was asking when the new baby was coming’

‘What?’ You laughed, looking over at her peddling as fast as her little legs would take her and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘Ollie told her there’s supposed to be a baby every four years. Now she’s four she’s asking when the next ones coming so she can pick out some toys for them’ he told you softly, feeling tears spring in your eyes at how silly and adorable they were.

‘Nala, come on’ you suddenly heard, looking up to see Ollie pulling on her lead as she laid on the path. Clearly she was fed up of walking now so with a quick kiss to your cheek, Mason ran up ahead to lift her from the ground to carry her for a little bit. You watched with a smile as he placed kisses all over her head and she licked his cheek. ‘Come on Mummy’ Ollie called, holding his hand out for you to take and you smiled before hurrying up to grab it.

You loved days like this. Everything felt so wholesome and perfect. Your two beautiful babies laughing and having fun whilst the love of your life played with your new fur baby. It was enough to get you emotional but you held it together for the rest of the walk. Nala finally found her walking legs again towards the end, chasing after Tilly on her trike as Ollie made sure they were safe and you felt your whole body feel warm.

‘Mase?’ You called quietly, griping his bicep as you linked your arms together. ‘I’ve been thinking’

‘Oh yeah? What’s up?’

‘I think I might like a other one too�� you whispered, looking up at him with an excited smile that he mirrored before lifting you up by your thighs so he could spin you around.

‘Really? You really want one?’

‘I don’t see the harm in trying’ you laughed before he kissed you heavily.

‘Thank you, baby. Honestly I can’t tell you how this means to me’ he laughed, holding you as tight as he could. ‘Even if it doesn’t happen just… I love you so much’ he told you, his glossy eyes touching your heart and you left a soft kiss on his forehead before connecting your lips again.

After the park you had a nail appointment, Mason promising he’d have dinner and everything sorted by the time you got home yet when you did, you walked into a suspiciously quiet house. You called Masons name as you walk the through, finding him in the kitchen stirring away yet Nala wasn’t in her bed and the kids were nowhere to be seen.

‘What’s going on? Where is everyone?’ You asked, but you should of know from his cheeky smile that he was up to something. ‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing’ he laughed, his arms in the air in mock surrender before making grabby hands in your direction. You gave in instantly, walking round to his side where he pulled you into his arms and dropped a kiss on your forehead. ‘I told Lewis we had a last minute dinner event we’ve had to go to so he’s taken Nala and the kids for the night’

‘Mason’ you laughed, squeezing his sides as you looked up to his cheeky smile. ‘You don’t hang about do you?’

‘Well I was thinking I can’t remember the last time we were alone for a bit’ he laughed, his hands snaking lower so he could pinch your bum lightly. ‘And you know me, I like to start getting prepared early. No point hanging about’ he winked before leaning down to press his lips against yours. ‘Dinner won’t be for a little while. Why don’t you go have a shower and get changed?’ He offered quietly so you agreed and scurried off. Taking a quick shower before rifling through your underwear drawer.

It had been a while since you’d looked in here, not thinking about what your underwear looked like for the longest time but thankfully Mason seemed to love your granny pants so you didn’t feel the need to squeeze into these anymore.

Your fished out your old favourite set, black and laced with most of it being made up of mesh that you could see right through and you remembered feeling incredible in it. Now however you weren’t sure if you liked the look of the person staring back at you. Your boobs only just about contained as they spilled from the top, the underwear not sitting how it used to and you felt your heart sink at your reflection.

You didn’t have time to do anything about it though as you could hear Mason bounding up the stairs in search of you so you quickly threw on one of his shirts and some cycling shorts before he got a glimpse of you.

‘Foods nearly ready’ he smiled, his face soft as he took you in before reaching his hand out for you to take. The energy between you had shifted slightly and his usually warm and caring self had been amplified ten fold. His touches that little bit softer and sweeter and you melted into him when he planted a kiss on your lips as he sat down.

The dinner conversation was kept light, you knew he wanted to but he never bought up your conversation from earlier. Instead taking a small walk down memory lane as he recounted how he felt when he first saw you, not imagining you’d give him the time of day let alone be sat here with him now, two kids and a dog later.

You both decided to head to bed soon after, knowing where the night was heading and after a quick shower himself he joined you under the sheets in just his boxers. His head on your chest as his hand snuck under your top to gently stroke your waist and the butterflies erupted in your tummy immediately. It was crazy how he still made you feel like a school girl with the most simple of touches, having to burry your head in his hair as you were overcome with silliness.

His hand moved further up your body, fingers dancing over your chest until he felt the lace under his fingers and his eyes were on you in an instant. The next this you knew his head was fully under your shirt so he could take a look for himself, you forgetting for a moment what you had on underneath but as soon as you felt him press a kiss to your right boob the memory came flying back and you jumped away from him.

‘Hey, where’s the fire’ he laughed, reaching for you to pull you back but you shuffled further away from him. You couldn’t see the hurt behind his eyes but you were too embarrassed about what you looked like to let him see. ‘Baby, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, I…’ you started, a deep breath falling from your lips as you finally looked at him properly and you knew there was no point hiding anything from him. ‘I wanted to look good for you so I put some of my nice underwear on. They don’t look quite as good as I remember and I was gonna change but I forgot. I’m just a bit embarrassed that’s all’ you confessed quietly before you felt him shuffle up so he was sat against the headboard.

‘Come here, Mumma’ he whispered, holding out his hands for you to take before placing you in his lap, straddling his thighs as his hands settled on your waist. You always felt extra soft for him when he called you that as you knew he did it out of love and pride for the fact you were the mother of his children so you let him position you how he wanted before looking up at him. ‘I love you so much, you know that right?’ he mumbled, lips on your neck as he trailed them down to leave hot kisses over your collar bones. ‘Even after all these years, I’ve never stopped wanting you. Needing you’ he professed, and you felt yourself melt at his words.

‘I love you too’ you managed to whisper, his teeth lightly biting your neck before his eyes were on yours again.

‘Your body is my safe place, I don’t want you to ever be embarrassed of it. You’re so perfect, trust me’ he told you sincerely, shivering at his words and he must of felt it as a cocky smirk made it’s way onto his lips. ‘You are, I mean it. This beautiful body has given me everything I could ever want. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world’

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, tears welling up in your eyes at his words so when he gripped the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head, you didn’t stop him this time. His face was a picture, taking in a sharp breath before letting it out slowly through pursed lips, brows furrowed like he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was to have you sat in front of him before running his hand over his chin like he always did when he was a bit nervous.

‘You, my love, have got nothing to be worried about. Ageing like fine wine’ he winked, causing you to scoff before he rolled you over onto your back so he could tower over you. ‘Hey, I’m being serious’ he whispered, bumping his nose against yours before gripping the waistband on your shorts so he could pull them down your legs. ‘I’ve got no reason to lie, do I?’ He asked and you shook your head whilst biting your lip.

‘No, you don’t’

‘Exactly’ he whispered, pulling back to look over your body whilst he lightly traced his fingertips down your body causing you to shudder and erupt in goosebumps. ‘I love the way you react to me’ he whispered, coming back down to connect your lips in a heavy kiss before trailing thin all over your cheeks and jaw. ‘So perfect’ he mumbled into your skin and you giggled whilst trying pull his face up to yours so you could kiss him again.

You could feel him pressing into your core, making your tummy flip as he slowly rocked his hips into you and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as you tugged on his hair.

‘Please’ you breathed, raising your hips to let him know you were ready but he clearly wasn’t yet. He did it give you exactly what you wanted but your thoughts were stopped by the feeling on his mouth covering your nipple over the thin mesh of your bra. ‘F-fuck’ you managed to stutter out before he kissed his way across your chest to the other side. Your fingers combing through his hair as he kissed every inch of you. Lips trailing down your body to kiss over the faint stretch marks that had been left from Ollie and Tilly and you shivered at the gesture.

He didn’t stop there though, kissing your hips and your thighs before slowing working his way back up to your lips where he kissed you deeply. You were ready for him to have his way with you but he seeming wanted to worship you and you weren’t about to tell him no. You hadn’t had this amount of attention paid to you for a while and even though you could feel your face burning you were enjoying the feeling of his lips on your flushed skin

‘I’m gonna make you feel so good baby I promise’ he whispered against your inner thighs. ‘Gonna give you what you deserve’

You went to reply, but the feeling of him pulling your underwear down your legs stopped you. Your eyes were on him but his were focused on your core as he lowered himself back down, positioning your legs over his shoulders as his fingers lightly danced over your thighs before you finally felt him pressing kisses over your skin again.

As much as you were enjoying all the kisses and his soft touches you were aching for him to finally touch you properly. You had a tell, and he knew exactly what it was so when he felt your fingers gliding over his scalp he didn’t waste anymore time, darting his tongue out so he could separate your folds gently before flicking over your clit in a way he knew you loved. Your back was arching off the bed instantly but you felt him press you back down before slowly torturing you with his mouth.

You were already turned on more than you had been in a while, his soft touches and words really getting you going so the feel of him now finally giving you what you wanted felt like heaven, especially when his hands traveled up your body so he could cup your boobs so you couldn’t help but moan, biting your finger out of habit so no one heard you.

‘Does that feel good?’ He asked, taking a break so you could get your breath back and you managed to nod before he grabbed your hands to link your fingers together and rest them next to you. ‘I wanna hear you then, yeah? It’s just us baby, no need to hold back’ he told you before diving back in.

You lost yourself in the feeling, the familiar fizz rushing through your veins are your high was bubbling up inside you. Mason always knew how to get you going and how to get you to the finish line, knowing just by your reaction when he was on the right track and a few seconds after he’d slipped his fingers inside of you you were cuming around them.

You were crying his name, squeezing his fingers as you gripped the sheets with your free hand as he rode you through it, growling into you as you came down from you high and you could just about feel him pressing delicate kisses to your thighs again before making his way back up so you were eye level.

‘You ready for me now gorgeous?’

‘Mmhmm’ you breathed, opening your eyes to try and focus on him but your head was still spinning.

He didn’t give you a second, pushing your thighs up and apart so you were open for him before lining up and pushing himself in. You couldn’t blame him, he’d been teasing you for ages so you knew he must of been desperate to get inside you but the groan he let out when he was fully inside made your spine tingle.

‘You take me so well, baby. Made just for me, yeah? All mine’

‘Mase’ you whimpered, gripping his forearms as he leant forward and pounded into you steadily. ‘Oh, fuck. Do that again.’ You cried, your legs shaking as he repeatedly hit the same spot inside of you.

‘I know baby, I know. You feel so so good’ he mumbled, resting his forehead on yours as your moans got lost in each others mouths. He made you feel beautiful, feel seen, like the luckiest person on the planet that you got to share your world with him and you knew you were covered in goosebumps as your feelings hit you like a tone of bricks.

‘I love you so much, Mase’ you cried, bringing his lips down to yours for a heated kiss before feeling his fingers travel to your clit as he continued to thrust into you. You could tell he was close and now you were too so you pulled you lips away from him just in time to let out a loud groan as you came around him.

‘I love you too’ he whimpered, stilling his hips as he finished inside of you before collapsing on top of you with a light thud.

You were both exhausted and you let him lay on you for a bit so you could get you breathing back to normal, your own eyes becoming heavy so you shut them for a few seconds but you felt Mason move his head to look up at you almost as if it was an instinct for him.

‘Don’t go to sleep on me now, takes more than one go to make a baby’ he winked, making you laugh as you played with his hair ‘How about a snack and we go again?’ He asked

‘Grab me a bag of malteasers and you’ve got yourself a deal’ you told him, watching him sit up so he could pull out of you slowly. Once he had he dropped a quick kiss to your forehead and closed your legs ‘just to be on the safe side’ before jumping up to run downstairs and get your sweets for you.

You giggled as you watched him run out of your room without a stitch of clothing on, laughing like a school kid at the prospect of having sex with you again and it wasn’t long before he back in the doorway, dangling the share size bag between his fingers as he leant up against the frame.

‘I hope you’re ready for round two’

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed :) I’d love to know what you thought so please feel free to comment or drop me an ask, I’d really appreciate it!

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

Finallyyyyyyy finished my first little one shot!! This is somewhat different from what I normally write so I’m definitely a little nervous to post this! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Who Did This to You?

Julien Baker x Reader

Description: y/n is in an abusive relationship and is pushed to her limits. Julien has been one of her best friends for years and has been trying to keep it a secret from her. That is until she has no clue who else to turn to.

Contains: hurt x comfort trope, fluff, graphic depictions of injuries and and graphic discussions of abuse. please please please read with caution!!

Word Count: 3k

I was going to fall into a ditch and break every last bone in my body if I wasn’t careful enough… hypothermia to boot, a mildly beat up face was going to be the least of my worries. But I wasn’t exactly sure what else to do. It felt like any second dangerous headlights were going to pull up over my shoulder and give me even more to really cry about. My dorm wasn’t safe either. She could find it. And once she realized I wasn’t coming back for a while she most definitely would.

The monsoon couldn’t have come at a worst time. Oh Gods, it was freezing, the biting rain slamming into my bruised eye and busted lip. Still I peddled like my life depended on it to the one place I knew I would be safe. Julien’s place, my best friend… the best friend I had been hiding this massive secret from for the past few… months?? Years even?? It was hard to remember whenever the abuse got to that extent. Google called it disassociative amnesia, but I wondered if the head injuries had anything to do with it.

I couldn’t remember if she had ever made me fear for my life before. My girlfriend. The one I should’ve been running to to comfort me right now, the one who never should’ve rose a hand to this extent. Most things I could brush off, excuse with her temper or her own trauma, etc etc… tonight was different though. Tonight felt like nothing but a streamline of breaking things, hitting, kicking, screaming, insult after insult after insult. Fuck what could I have done to push her like that?

Julien lived in an off campus apartment, a cozy one bedroom with autumn themed lights that seemed to shine from the windows all year long. I almost cried from relief whenever I saw the beacon of hope, my legs shaking as I didn’t hesitate to slam the bike into the rack and loosely wrap the chain around it. Not like I cared if it got stolen at this point. One foot in front of the other… I can do this. One foot… one foot… one foot.

“Julien?” I echoed, blinking away the rain as I gave the door a shaking knock. It felt so hard to stay awake, like I was going to hit the ground any second as I heard footsteps from the other side of the door. “Julien, please…”

“Hang on, hang on, I’m coming!” I heard the locks click out of place, swaying on my feet before the door swung open with a start. “H-Holy shit… y/n what happened to you? You’ll catch your death out there.”

“I-I don’t wanna soak your apartment, I’ll change.” I stammered through chattering teeth as she didn’t hesitate to usher me inside, my clothes soaked through from the rain and dripping all over her clean floors. I admittedly didn’t think this through all the way, the only thing that had been on my mind at the time was escape. Fight or flight. Like if I stayed any longer she wasn’t going to let me survive the night.

“I don’t care about any of that right now, love.” I faintly heard her speaking through layers and layers of white noise. My feet leaving the floor like I was nothing more than a rag doll. A touch that wasn’t rough for once, but the worse part about those were the winces that came from every tender spot that had been sparked since then. “Let’s get you changed and I’ll get my shoes on and we can get you to a hospital, okay?”

“N-No, no hospital!” I immediately protested, a sentence of words never making me light up so quickly as my eyes widened.

“Y/n, you could have a major head injury right now. Don’t fight me on this.” She kept pushing, and I knew she would. In fact I even had loads of vague arguments I had dreamed up to prove her that this was in fact, not the best course of action to take right now. But they had all departed somewhere between the rain outside and the pain that felt like it was coursing through my entire body.

“Please… Julien.” I choked out, my hand wrapping around her shoulder as if in some attempt to hold myself up more. “Please.”

“If something happened to you because I didn’t take you to the hospital whenever you needed it then I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“If I’m not doing any better in a few hours then you can take me but… no… no hospital right now. P-Please, please Julien.” I didn’t realize how badly my voice was shaking until I actually heard it. Past traumas of other hospital visits and the prying questions of police officers wondering what I could’ve possibly done to provoke her to that extent. The theatrics she always managed to put on, how she wasn’t ‘in a good headspace’ or ‘taking her medication right now’… and so on so on so on. It was always what I could have done. Never her.

The pleading must have worked though as I saw Julien’s own reserves start to crack. Brown eyes seeming to study every cut and bruise on my face as she placed me a top her bathroom counter. And I watched her worry turn into pure rage. “Who did this to you?” She questioned, breath hitching in her throat as she busied herself with finding a dry pair of clothes and a towel. So she herself didn’t end up flying off the handle as well I presumed.

“I… I just-“ I started searching my brain for another excuse, another lie, anything to brush it off like I always did. Like it was an instinct almost. But I think even I knew on my way over here there wasn’t any other way to cover this up. “She got so mad and I-”

“I know.” Her words were soft, much calmer than I expected them to be as she wrapped a warm towel around my quivering shoulders before setting a folded pair of dry clothes next to me. And I hadn’t even needed to say anything. “Thank you… for telling me, love.” Her gentle hands felt soothing on my aching face, brushing away stray tears and raindrops. She didn’t press the issue further after that, she didn’t pry or ask difficult questions. Her biggest concern in that moment seemed to be taking care of me… which almost didn’t even feel real after so long of the opposite from someone else. “Do you need help changing or do you want me to stay?”

The question almost made me bristle, the introduction of boundaries I wasn’t quite used to as she took a cautious step to the door. I did need help, I know I did. Every inch of my body hurt and shivered from the cold. But was I already crossing the said boundaries by asking her to help? My girlfriend would find some way to blame it on me, or at least some way to deflect the blame from herself.

‘I knew you always had feelings for her. Of course you ran to her the second things got too hard.’

‘You were the one who chose to walk out. This is your fault.’

Your fault… your fault… your fault.

I didn’t even feel the sob coming until I heard it tearing through my voice. Racking through my whole body as I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes until colorful dots danced across them. “Hey… hey, baby, breathe, I’m gonna help you okay? It’s gonna be okay.”

“She’s gonna be so mad at me.” I stammered, only to feel Julien’s hands wrapping around my wrists as carefully as she could before prying my hands from my eyes.

“Fuck her, y/n. She doesn’t get access to you anymore, okay? If you wanna be done, then be done with her. Damn all of the excuses, the blame, all of it, I don’t give a shit what she was feeling or if she’s taking her medication or not. Fuck her. She is never going to lay another finger on you again, okay?” Her words almost took me aback, blinking away tears while she cupped my face in her warm and comforting hands. The first gentle touch I had had in a while it felt like.

“Now let me get you out of these wet clothes and take care of you, okay?” It felt almost impossible to say yes, to nod my head and let her do what she needed to. But I did. An agreement that almost felt like a collapse. I couldn’t afford to keep running out of that house and stitching up the wounds myself anymore. I didn’t want the strength of sticking it out. I wanted to be cared for. I wanted softness and security. Something my girlfriend could’ve never provided from me.

I let her peel the wet clothes from my body, immediately tossing the sopping fabric into her tub before enveloping me in a towel to dry off and protect my modesty. Her clothes felt oversized and warm, still lightly dusted with her cologne that I always felt myself picking up every time I came over here with her joking it was too expensive to share. She never even took one look at me as I was changing, never stole one greedy peak even as she pulled the shirt over my head.

“This might sting a little.” She whispered as she wet the edge of a piece of gauze. Immediately I sucked in a breath of pain as she pressed it to the light scratches that slashed into my cheek. Harboring a small wince of pain as I brought my hand upwards to rest on top of hers where it currently held my chin. Something that almost felt instinctual for a moment before I flushed and drew it away.

“S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s okay.” She shook her head, gentle fingers seeming to overtake mine as she slid them through the little gaps. “You can hang onto me as much as you need to.” She whispered, continuing to dot the wounds with antiseptic and gauze. It still hurt but for some reason looking into her eyes seemed to diminish it. She was just so so delicate with all of her moves, soft taps and gentle brushes. Delicacy and warmth I wasn’t quite used to anymore but I missed so severely.

“I just… don’t understand,” She finally muttered after a moment of silence. Those same little elevens that creeped in between her brows whenever she was concentrating hard on something. “how someone could ever do this to somebody like you.”

“I probably provoked her.” I whispered, always finding some way to shift the blame.

“I doubt you could’ve done anything that would’ve ever warranted this.” She shook her head once more, hands still wrapping and squeezing my own like it was a miracle I was even still here. And if I hadn’t gotten away whenever I did it probably would’ve been. “Promise me… please promise me, y/n, you won’t see her anymore.”

I didn’t even notice the tears rolling down my cheeks until I felt her warm hands brushing them away again. Cupped around my bruised cheek before they could even fall, “I don’t know how to leave somebody I’m scared of… how- how to leave the only thing I’ve ever known.”

“I know, love.” She sighed, a soothing touch running along my knuckles. “So let me help you… let- let all of us help you. I’ll go back to the apartment with you to get all of your things and- and you can even stay here until you feel safe again.”

“And if I don’t ever feel safe again?” I questioned, my voice cracking around the words before I could feel a sob breaking through them. Her arms felt like a protective shield though as they finally enclosed around me, a tear soaked face being pressed to her shoulder as she held me.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make room for you.” She whispered, hands rubbing soothing circles on my back as she did so. “Say yes? Please? Say you’ll let me help you.”

My whole body felt like lead slumped against her, taking in her warm scent as she held me up the whole time. I didn’t think she’d give me a choice in the grand scheme of things. Throughout our whole lives of being friends I had always viewed Julien as a protector of sorts. I couldn’t remember a single time that I hadn’t felt so safe around her. So welcoming. So… the opposite of what I had been given before.

It felt like it took every ounce of strength left in me just to nod, but I did just that, my weak arms clutching onto her to the very best of my ability. “Thank you… for everything.” My words still trembled though I tried to keep them strong.

I felt the careful brush of her lips against my hairline before she lifted me from the counter with ease. Holding me like some knight in shining armor would as my eyes fluttered and drifted off against her shoulder. “Always, love.” She whispered, carrying me through the bedroom to settle me against the king sized bed, satin sheets so much more comfortable than mine or, well, my ex now I presumed, could’ve ever been. I was too tired to protest as I curled up to the mound of pillows, burying my face into the silky fabric as I took in the lavender scent of her detergent. “Let me get you some ice and I can take the couch tonight.”

Those words had my eyes darting open however, a hand jutting out to grip her hand and keep her from slipping off. “No, please… stay, Julien please.” I echoed the plea once more as I slipped my fingers around her wrist, and I could nearly feel her pulse hammering against them.

“I- I just didn’t wanna be disrespectful or-”

“You won’t- I- I trust you.” I managed a weak smile, almost tempted to reach out with both hands with every flair of melodramatics I could. Anything to keep her from leaving. “I’m okay with it.”

Julien hesitated much too long, a pause that almost left my heart clenching with failure and my body shaking with dread. Her nod felt like a million pounds off of my shoulders though as she nodded and pressed her lips to my forehead for the millionth time. Each little kiss feeling like they were washing away every trace of the headache I had remaining.

“Okay darling, I think I can do that.” She said with a soft breath, a tiny breath hitching in my throat as I watched her lifting my hand upwards to the same soft lips she kept laying against my head. “Just let me know… if I get carried away.”

“Okay.” I whispered, my tiny smile only growing as I watched her exit the room. Maybe a part of me had always felt something for her? Maybe in some way it was considered infidelity to its core? But was it in the way she looked or the way she treated me? I don’t think I had seen the girl be mean to a single person unless she felt like someone she loved was in danger. She was always the one holding me after fights with my now ex. Always the one telling me the things she consistently said wasn’t true. That I wasn’t crazy. She was gentle and kind whenever nobody else was. Maybe that was why I felt anything at all.

“I’m putting a wallflower in because if I light a candle now we might fall asleep with it lit and… you know.” She chuckled weakly, setting what looked like a glass of water and a plate on the tv stand.

“Yeah… fire- I get it.” I spoke with a little snicker of my own as she trotted closer. My eyebrows then scrunching together at the contents of the plate. Two Tylenols and a couple ice packs, as if she knew that I’d need more than one.

“Do you wanna watch anything? Or- I can make something to eat if you’re hungry?” Her eyes were wide and innocent, trying her hardest to think of anything she possibly could to help.

“No, I think I’m okay right now. It already feels so hard to keep my eyes open.” I shook my head, watching her frown and nod as she crawled into bed.

“I get it.” She stated, eyes trailing on me as she watched me swallow down the pills and attempt to lean forward to place the ice pack on my ankle. Though I couldn’t help but let out a small yelp of pain as I tried to force myself up to a sitting position.

“Here… let me.” Julien darted forward, eyes going wide in worry as she did so.

“I’m sorry.” I replied with a sucked in breath of pain, inching backwards to lay back down as carefully as I could. Groaning ever so slightly as I placed the other pack against my head.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” She denied with a quick shake of her head as she lounged back on the pillows with a hand propped behind her head. “Do you wanna lay on me?” She questioned, as if already noticing the expectant look in my eyes as my cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment.

“Is… that weird?” I wondered sheepishly, catching my bottom lip in between my teeth.

“Nah, get over here.” She smiled that same soothing smile that always, without fail, made me feel like everything would be okay. Even if it felt like it wasn’t even close right now.

She let me curl up to her like a cocoon, placing my head on her chest as her careful and safe arms wrapped back around me. Rubbing the same soft circles on my back like she did before. And I think in that moment I would’ve done anything to never have to leave. “I’ve got you, y/n. No matter what, I’ve always got you.”

[paperstorm]

Is it Wednesday already 🥴 3x17 missing moment is nearing completion. Proposal here we come. I am in a dusty archive with terrible internet this today so I have this scheduled, excited to read all your snippets when I get home!

-

“Hey, baby,” TK pants, smiling at Carlos as he steps into their apartment.

He watches, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, as Carlos stops in his tracks and for a moment just stares across the room at him. TK cocks his head to one side, confused, and slows his speed. He sits back down onto the padded seat as Carlos turns to close and lock the door behind him.

“How was your day?” TK asks, reaching for the towel he’d slung over the handlebars so he can wipe at his damp face. His legs peddle slowly, letting himself come down from the zenith of his workout. He’s already a little light-headed, endorphins kicking in and leaving him buzzing.

“Fine,” Carlos says evenly, dropping his bag down and making his way across the room. His shoes click on the poured concrete, measured and metronomic as he approaches.

“Hey,” TK says again, laughing a little in confusion, as within seconds Carlos goes from yards away from him by the door to right in front of him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carlos murmurs, reaching for him and running his hands up TK’s arm, his shoulder, down his bare chest.

Caught off guard, TK giggles and stumbles a little, having to grab for the handlebar to keep himself from falling off the bike.

“Look at you,” Carlos rasps. TK gets a brief glimpse of the black that’s taken over his irises and finally his brain catches up with what’s happening. It shouldn’t have taken so long, they’ve both been so into each other lately that TK seems to spend more time with his legs in the air than he spends doing almost anything else, but his stomach flips once he realizes.

“Oh.”

Carlos steps in closer, chest against his arm so TK lifts it and wraps it around Carlos’s shoulders half a second before Carlos surges forward and kisses him hard enough to bruise. TK mmph’s into it, another surprised and breathless laugh tickling the back of his throat as Carlos’s tongue is in his mouth of all of a sudden.

“Babe, I’m sweaty,” TK protests half-heartedly, aware that his wet armpit is pressing against the shoulder of Carlos’s nice shirt.

“Yeah,” Carlos agrees shortly, in a way that communicates it’s the very opposite of a problem for him. He attaches his lips to TK’s neck, inhaling deeply like his damp skin is the best thing Carlos has ever smelled; big hands enclosing TK’s waist and squeezing him while TK struggles to balance on the small bicycle seat.

“What got into you, today?”

“Nothing. I had the most boring day of all time, spent like two hours on my phone playing Angry Birds and half listening to Lexi tell me why Lemonade is the best album of all time.” Carlos licks a stripe up his throat.

TK swallows as desire stirs in his groin and sends blood southward.

“And then you,” he continues, in a voice that’s low and rough and sending rocket fire right to TK’s quickly hardening cock, “who insisted on putting an exercise bike in the middle of my dining room not once, but twice – ”

“I didn’t insist shit,” TK interrupts, a cramp starting to ache in his hip from the awkward way he’s twisted and hissing softly when Carlos lightly grazes teeth over the junction of his neck and shoulder, “you put it there twice, I asked both times if you wanted it somewhere else.”

Carlos continues as if he hadn’t spoken, “ – and then barely ever fucking use the damn thing, thought you could just be here, shirtless and sweaty, when I got home, and thought I wasn’t gonna lose my whole mind about it?”

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @lemonlyman-dotcom @whatsintheboxmh

@bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @fitzherbertssmolder @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh

@captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@ditheringmind @emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[ifeltfree]

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[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Character: Indiana Jones

Warnings/Important info: Fem reader, implied English or at least has been to Oxford University. Angsty, miscommunication.

Notes: I watched Indiana Jones the other day and obviously my first crush never leaves because young Harrison Ford as an archaeologist adventurer is just *chefs kisses*

It's bizarre really, potentially concerning, worrying to a degree, that after 5 years you know the back of his head from a glance. Suffice to say you try not to draw attention to yourself when you recognise who stands mere meters away from you talking to two of his students about antiquarianism.

Maybe you should have expected it, after all Henry Jones seemed to have a way of haunting you. Maybe you should have been prepared to see him, despite assuming that the United States was so vast that your move from the University of Oxford to Marshall College as a newly qualified Doctor of History would certainly not guarantee seeing him. Perhaps, it was the Moirai, the fates, trying to test your resolve or simply coincidence.

But, after five years without a single letter, a single telephone call or telegram, you certainly weren't keen to stick around and have a conversation with the man. Besides, you had lectures to teach, students to help, papers to grade (okay, maybe not the last one considering it was in fact the very first day of the academic year).

It is with a sharp back peddle that has you careering into a pair of students behind you with a clipped apology that you make your daring escape and it is a surprised call of your given name that has you freezing, turning about face and responding with a strangled "It's actually Dr. Y/L/N now."

"What? I'm not allowed to call you by your name anymore? Guess you've already recinded the right to call you Honey Bee too." There are students stopping to watch, what feels like the entire student body eager to watch the new History professor and the most loved Archaeology professor at each other's throats. A mystery arising from their familiarity and a curiosity at what history lay between the two. You certainly weren't eager to put on a show.

With a flick of the wrist you smooth down your skirt, turning on your heels and walk away calling out to him, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Dr Jones." It leaves Indiana gaping in the centre of the quad, watching the sway of your hips and the click of your shoes on the pavement as you leave him behind.

You choose to ignore the bubble of anxiety it puts in the pit of your stomach all day. Your lectures help to distract you at least somewhat from the reality that your former...you're not even sure what to call him...something, is present and working at the same university as you and you briefly wonder if it isn't too late to go back to your job at Oxford. You're sure Professor Haylett would let you come back, you might need to grovel a bit but...perhaps that was preferable to the potential mess that was being in close proximity to Henry again.

The last time you'd see each other, he'd been a 27 year old Archaeology professor. Young, dashing, charming, with every student at the University of London eager to please him and hoping the American would give them extra attention. You had been a 23 year old History PhD student, one of the few women allowed to do so, after much hard graft and determination. You had refused to let anything or anyone distract you from your studies, from your goal...and then you'd been told that he could help you with your PhD, that he had some specific knowledge on the Battle of Syracuse that you could use and...you'd found yourself suitably distracted. You would be being bitter and unfair if you didn't admit that in the year you'd known him he'd helped you with your thesis immensely...but he'd also put your reptuation at risk, broken your heart and made promises that he never would fulfil. Your mother was right...romance was certainly a tricky business.

You're so frazzled at the end of the day that you don't even recognise that your office has the lights on, if you had, you would have stopped before entering, instead you bulldozer your way in and stumble at the sight of him sat in a chair waiting paitently as if he wasn't phased one bit by your reappearance in his life.

"So, Honey Bee, you gonna tell me why I get such a frosty reception?"

"Yo-The absolute...I cannot...ugh!" You find yourself unable to stutter out a complete sentence as you slam the door shut, it reverberating on its hinges. "You have some nerve, Henry Jones! As if you don't bloody know!" You storm around him, putting the hard wood desk between the two of you and shuffling papers to keep from looking at him knowing he'd melt your anger in a second just with a smile.

He always had the most ridiculous ability to placate you and you wanted to feel angry today, not soothed like a skittish horse or malcontent cat.

"Sweetheart, if I knew I wouldn't have asked!" It's the silky smoothness giving away to frustration that causes you to look up, your bottom lip shuddering under the weight of the sadness that sits in your chest, old feelings that you thought you'd processed and put to bed coming to the surface.

"You promised..." He's silent, confusion deepening as you take a deep breath and begin to pace back and forth behind your desk, agitation growing with each movement. "You promised to write me, to call or send a telegram and you never did. I...I waited to hear from you and I heard nothing. So I am dreadfully sorry, Henry, if I do not feel particularly like pleasentries or intimiate nicknames in front of an entire cohort of students! I have had to earn my place and I am still fighting for respect and no man, one who doesn't even honor his promises, is going to ruin this for me!"

You are breathing heavily, body warm, shoulders rising and falling with every agitated movement of your lungs as he looks down at his lap. Silence falls between you for so long that you turn to look out the window of your office, at the street lamps with their warm glow, the last few students wandering across campus as evening sets in.

"I did...I wrote you." His voice is low, quiet, the sort of quiet that Henry Jones never was, so quiet in fact that you turn to check he actually spoke.

"I wrote every day for three months...half of it was stupid, five lines about my day or a single sentence to say hello. I wrote for three months, sweetheart."

"Three months?"

"Three."

"But, I never...how...if you wrote for three months then how on earth did I not receive a single one!" You're unsure if you believe him, at the same time you never knew Henry to be a liar and it...it boggles your mind. There's an impending sense of your world teetering on it's axis, emotional whiplash as you feel a soaring sense of hope, yet a feeling of disbelief, fear, all rolled into one.

"I don't know, honey, but I wrote for three months to 21 Hanover Street and you never wrote me back so I assumed...I assumed you'd moved on, found yourself a nice, sensible husband and gotten married!" There's an anger that you'd never noticed til now, a sense that he'd been hurt to, that he'd felt like you'd abandoned him. So far removed from the debonair, rakish persona he so often displayed.

"21 Hanover Street? You wrote to 21 Hanover Street?"

"Yes, goddamn it!"

"Henry...I lived at 12 Hanover Street."

"What?"

"I lived at number 12, one two, not two one. 12!" It is so absolutely absurd that you can't help but start laugh rather hysterically. That you felt abanonded all these years, angry, resentful, heartbroken and he'd simply gotten the wrong house number, a stupid, ridiculous mistake that had broken your heart into pieces, only to reforge it again.

"You're telling me that for three months I was writing to the wrong address...?" Henry is out of his chair, rounding the table and closing the distance between you so fast that it makes your head spin...or perhaps that is the effect of the emotional journey you're currently experiencing.

"I'm afraid so..."

"Goddamn it...well, shit, honey..." There's a pregnant pause as your eyes scan his profile, the frustrated set of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the familiar bend of his nose. He's not changed, not really. He's older, more lines around his eyes than last you remember, and a few more grey hairs, but then you're older too. Your first grey hairs finally settling in, the soft baby fat of your face having melted away somewhat over the years. But, he's still Henry and you're still the busy Honey Bee he used to chase around the library to the chagrin of the librarian. Things haven't really changed, you realise. With the removal of the one point of hurt between you, you can acknowledge that you still love him without the weight of anger or heartbreak pushing it down.

"Henry?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Kiss me." It makes you laugh against his mouth how quickly he follows your request, the scrape of his stubble against your skin an old, familiar sensation that you'd all but forgot. It was like coming home, so familiar that it sent a sharp stabbing sense of yearning into your chest even as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him.

The woodsy smell of his cologne surrounds you, the familiar tweed of his suit jacket scratches your arms, the soft strands of his hair through your fingers, the press of his nose against your cheek. It's like there hasn't been five years since you last kissed, like you hadn't been so angry with him up until five minutes ago that it hurt.

God, and to think, you'd nearly gone your entire life thinking he'd never cared. All because he'd mixed up two simple numbers.