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tfc-does-arts · 9 hours

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Updated Anthro designs! Still not too sure about Saint... but the rest, I'm very proud of! Details about them, and a full line-up will be under the cut!

Also I see some of you, curious about what's up with Monk: and here's your answer: Monk is also Nightcat here! I made these designs before the Watcher was revealed. Also, I promised myself I'd hold back on making a Watcher design until we see their powers.

MONK - He/They

16 years old

Little Brother to Survivor, of course. Gourmand is their Auntie!

Aroace

Transes this little guy's gender.

Aside from being quiet, they're just a sweet lil guy.

They have some pet lizards... one of which is a red lizard named Jewel.

The bag contains snacks!

SURVIVOR - They/them

22 years old

Older sibling to Monk, of course.

Panromantic asexual

Sees a lot of themself in Big Sister Moon... often just sits with her to vibe.

Dating a scavenger named Blue! Only Blue is allowed to use she/her with them.

Found two slugpups while wandering with Blue, and is taking care of them, with Auntie Gourmand's help.

HUNTER - She/it

24 years old

After making it back to No Significant Harassment, Sig realized that Hunter was so fast that they could remove the rot before it became too late.

Lesbian

Why are its legs plantigrade? Well, she was a test tube baby!

Can't really talk, an unlucky strike from a scavenger cut her throat.

It knows sign language though, and have lengthy conversations with Spearmaster, who's like family to her.

Wants to help Five Pebbles out.

GOURMAND - She/her

38 years old

Aunt to Monk and Survivor

Bisexual

INCREDIBLY good at cooking. Can turn basically anything into a meal that can fill you for a while.

Dating Artificer, helping her heal from her deeply broken heart with kindness.

That and she will just hold Arti until she calms down from seeing red.

ARTIFICER - She/her

35 years old

Mother to Bubble and Seafoam, both are deceased.

Lesbian

Gourmand found her about to kill a scavenger. She hadn't even noticed the large slugcat until she was lifted in the air, arms pinned to her sides. Gourmand held on despite all the struggling, giving the scavenger time to escape... but it was only when Arti finally stopped struggling was she set down and talked to.

Under the long clothes, she's underweight.

Nobody really sees her eye underneath her hat... but Gourmand has. It always flusters her when Gourmand compliments her.

She's... hesitant towards slugpups. Her terror of losing her own still sticks with her.

Gourmand helps her a lot... she hopes one day she can repay the kindness she feels as though she does not deserve.

SPEARMASTER - They/it

31 years old

Aroace

Like Hunter, because it was a test tube baby, its legs are plantigrade!

Most messengers have their iterator's insignia on their person. In Spear's case, the amulet on their choker is the symbol of who their creator is.

Working with Hunter and Seven Red Suns to try and help fix Pebbles, or at least get him out of his superstructure before it collapses.... even if it itself is reluctant.

Pretty chatty actually! They and Hunter's conversations can go on for hours.

RIVULET - Any

27 years old

Polyamorous Pansexual

This little guy has been many places, though their favorite places to visit is the region that surrounds the iterator Chasing Wind.

They never stay in one place too long, but they always make sure to visit whenever possible.

Though you see him less than Saint, she's still always willing to tell the latest gossip... Very popular with the Scavenger King's group in the Outer Expanse to learn what scavenger politics are going on.

The only one who knows what Saint is capable of and takes it incredibly seriously.

SAINT - They/them

26 years old...?

Aroace

Quiet. Not mute, just... very quiet. Prefers listening over talking.

Very rarely do they ever show up. But it feels as though they're more... waiting for something.

Really only ever talks to Monk.

Some iterator logs think they saw Saint leaving Sliver of Straw's can... but that's not possible. Saint is still young. Sliver's death happened so many cycles ago....

ENOT/INV/??? - Any

???Adult???

What is even going on with this guy.

Never front facing... somehow.

Hurts for Moon to look at her for too long... other iterators get a malfunction in their systems.

Often found in deep in the Subterranean... most likely getting snatched by Train Lizards.

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emberwhite · 3 months

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I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

#books #reading #childrens books #lgbtq #lgbtqia #autism #transgender #furry #therian #art #deer #queer #artists on tumblr #creativity #illustration

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eggcats · 28 days

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Radioapple fic, where Lucifer decides to get to the bottom of that deer asshole's agenda and figure out what he wants with a DEAL with his DAUGHTER.

So, Lucifer decides some reconnaissance on Alastor is necessary - except it's so hard to sneak up on him with that whole shadow shtick. And every time Lucifer tries to talk to him, Alastor needles him so much they wind up fighting, even when he wasn't even trying to start a fight! Can't they have one (1) single civil conversation so he can figure out how to break this deal he has?!??! ONE!

*cough* Anyway.

Lucifer notices that Alastor doesn't bother when KeeKee invades his kitchen (he even feeds her scraps!) and just overall is fine being bothered by a cat. He can work with this. He is a master manipulator AND shape-shifter. He can also become a cat. And Alastor will never be the wiser.

(Spoiler. Alastor is the wiser. It's a white and red cat with yellow eyes that half the time has a fucking tophat on.)

The problem, though, is that ALASTOR doesn't think Lucifer is trying to hide his identity. He just thinks Lucifer decided to bother him as a cat and just took it in stride. Why not, Hell is weird enough as it is, and to be fair, it's kind of entertaining. He'll let it go. Plus, for whatever reason, he's quiet as a cat, so it's fine if he just wants to hang out near him as he works. (Alastor kind of thinks the king of hell is desperate for socialization, but it is too awkward to actually do it. Which, he's not wrong but, ouch.)

LUCIFER, HOWEVER thinks he's being the epitome of discretion. He can get close to Alastor, who will become overly comfortable and spill all his secrets to cat-him! Foolproof!

It eventually escalates to Lucifer regularly hanging out with Alastor as a cat, and after the first time where he broke into his room (as a cat!) and Alastor just let him do it - it became a habit.

(It's not Lucifer's fault if, for thousands of years, he was used to sharing a warm bed with someone, and now he has trouble sleeping alone. Not that him and Alastor are sleeping together! But. Sometimes, he curls up near him as a cat on the bed, and sometimes, they both sleep there. It's not weird! Alastor doesn't even know it's him! [He does.])

Lucifer starts going through a mild crisis one day as he realizes he likes Alastor and kind of wants to be with him (as friends! FRIENDS) as himself, and not a cat. But he has absolutely no idea how to, and kind of spirals.

Alastor walks in on him having a freak out on the couch, and just casually removes his hat and starts petting his head to calm him down.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

"This seemed to calm you as a feline, I figured it would do the same here."

"WHAT!?"

"Is it not working? Now, what could be so dire as to have His Majesty using the hotel as his own personal room? Surely you don't wish for Charlotte to see you in such a state, sire?"

Lucifer, very quickly, has to come to terms with the fact that Alastor KNEW. (For how long????!) Are they- are they friends? Is this actually not weird?

(Lucifer might have almost forgotten about his original purpose with the deal, but that's still definitely something he'll keep a watch on. Just, maybe he can as himself, too?)

This revelation gives him a whole new set of issues. He...he still sleeps in Alastor's bed as a cat, though, right? Asking to do that as himself (even if it's still him!? Seriously, how long did Alastor know?) would be weird. Right? Right.

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #duckiedeer #alastor #hazbin alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #long post #fic #mine

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dukeofankh · 3 months

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Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.

#me writing stuff #positive masculinity #menslib

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imgae-insertshockedgasps-16 · 1 month

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okay i've seen a few Just Some Guy!danny aus and they've consumed my brain so here you go, it's under the cut, you're welcome and thank you (ps it also combines part of a prompty type thing i saw the other day, props if you know it)

Danny was not entirely sure how he got here.

He was just walking along, bopping to some great interdimensional tunes, eating his tuna fish sandwich - with ectoplasm and pickles, of course - when KABLOW there's this big ole tightie-whities-on-the-outside wearing guy.

Now, Danny's not great at keeping up with the times, but he's pretty sure this is that Superman dude.

Said SuperDude was staring at his headphones and making vague "hey take them out pls so can converse" gestures, so naturally Danny pops the Interdimensional Walkman out of his chest to pause his wicked music, and then puts the whole kit and kaboodle back behind his rib cage.

"What's up? Did you need help or something? I mean, I'm pretty solidly retired but I guess if it's super important I can-"

SuperGuy abruptly stopped staring and started speaking, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

Ohhhhh, Danny totally gets it now.

"Oh, dude, I gotchu. You want me to hook you up, right? Don't even worry about it, I know a guy who'll give you one a these babies for free! You're Kryptonian, right? Yeah, I totally get it, you wanna listen to some music from your home planet, no problemo my newly-minted friend, give me, like, ten seconds-"

And so Danny tore open a neat little portal and stuck his head through it, asking Technus to pretty please give him another Interdimensional Walkman, no he didn't even break this one-! He ran into a Kryptonian who heard him rockin out and wanted to know where he got the beats, and he'd told them that he could hook them up! C'mon Technus, you can't let them down! They're all lonely! They want to learn about their culture!

-----------------------------------------

Clark has no idea what's happening.

He had been searching for this ear-splitting, headache-inducing noise, and had come across a guy dancing down the sidewalk.

Not unusual, right?

Except that the terrible noise was coming from this man's - kid's?? He can't quite tell how old he is - headphones!

Of course, he didn't want to be rude, so he politely gestured for the man to remove the headphones. The man then proceeded to reach into his chest and pull out some kind of - Walkman?? Do people still use Walkmans?

Clark was naturally concerned, so he activated a spot of x-ray vision, just to see what's going on in there, and was promptly horrified.

This man was using his chest cavity as a storage compartment!

Two wallets, a key ring, a lunch box, some sort of odd thermos, bits and bobs of random parts and tools were all tangled around - and occasionally in - this guy's organs!

Suddenly, Clark realized that he'd been staring for a while, and the man was now talking. Something about coming out of retirement to help, oh dear, Ma would knock him around the head if he kept being so rude, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"

And now he was speaking rapidly, something about music from Krypton? Clark's pretty sure that not a whole lot survived the explosion, and he'd be pretty surprised if this guy just happened to have-

A vaguely Lazarus colored portal??

What in the world-

-----------------------------------------

"Thanks Technus! You're the best! I owe you one non evil scheme related favour!"

Danny zips up the portal and turns around, fiddling with the tapes and Walkman in his hands as he goes.

"Here you go! I wasn't entirely sure what genre you'd want, I don't really listen to a whole lot of Kryptonian stuff to be honest, it's usually too heavy on the vocal for me- not that vocals aren't great! But I want a whole band experience, yaknow? I'm not really looking for individual singers. Anyway, I just had him go for a couple songs of each major genre, but if you want something different you can totally-"

"Wait, hold on, you're telling me that there's Kryptonian music on those tapes? Playable by that Walkman?"

"Uh, well, yeah. Isn't that why you tracked me down? And, technically, I mean, they're ectoplasmic tapes and an Interdimensional Walkman, so. Hey, did you know that kryptonite is actually super-condensed ectoplasm? And since it's filled with the anguish and suffering and fear and whatnot of your entire home planet dying, it only negatively affects your species! Pretty cool right? Oh, shit, was that insensitive, I really didn't mean to be, I just thought that maybe you'd want to- ACK!"

Danny was not expecting SuperMuscles to get so close. He thrust out the IW and tapes and dropped them into SuperFellow's hands, "Listen, I gotta run. I'm supposed to be at a o-chem study group right now and they're totally gonna be pissed. Hit me up if you want a different tape."

And the proceeded to run in the opposite direction, duck into an alley and turn invisible, and fly over to the cafe his study group was in.

"Listen, I know I'm late but you'll never believe why-"

#that's it i'm done #fair warning- i am not a superman expert and the characterization is prolly wrong #but uh yeah #brain worms #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #dc #dc comics #superman #danny fenton #he's Just Some Guy #that's how he sees himself #and how the people who know him see him #like yeah he's a little odd #but so are most people

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hedgehog-moss · 11 months

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The Great Jungle Fence of ‘23

A majority of you poll-voters expressed the opinion that my fence would stop Pampe for 4 to 7 days and I am very touched by this popular endorsement of my fence-building skills, because her first escape happened after roughly 4 hours.

^ Pampe connoisseurs will know that her preferred way of defeating fences is by karate-chopping them with her neck, but I thought she could only do that if the fence was low enough for her to put some strength in the chop. The jungle fence was at least as tall as Pampe in the place where I found it all droopy-sad after she escaped, so I guess Pampe added a new jump-chop combo attack to her character sheet. I imagine it went something like this:

That’s okay! All new information about Pampe is carefully filed and will contribute to the creation of the Ultimate Fence. I decided to simply make this portion of the fence unneckchoppable by braiding branches from nearby trees into the fence like they did in Indonesia with that living bridge made by knitting the roots of two banyan trees. I ended up using five or six branches so it’d be solid enough, but here’s a pic of the beginning of the process:

The braided-branch part of the fence still stands undefeated, after 20 days. Pampe ate all the leaves but couldn’t get rid of the branches and had to concede this battleground.

I then found her staring pensively (worryingly) at another potential weak point of the fence: the gate. I used a standard wood pallet at first, tied to trees, but it wasn’t very high. I couldn’t add another pallet on top of it because that would make it inoperable as a door, so I went to explore the barn, which like all barns is full of dusty treasures. What object do I own that’s like a pallet, but much taller?

A slatted bed base. Once tied to a tree it swings open easily, but it was an awful chore to carry it all the way across the pasture, I had to wait for a weekend when my mum was going to visit me. That conversation went like:

Me: Do you remember that old bed in the barn? Can you help me carry it (well part of it) across the pasture? Mum: Why on earth Me: Pampe. Fence. Mum: That’s a good reason

I was very proud of my new, impassable gate, but Pampe was weirdly nowhere to be seen as I was setting it up. Usually she’s here carefully observing over my shoulder when I add a new element to a fence, so that was alarming.

In a flash of insight I realised I had been tricked; she’d never had any intention of jumping over the pallet gate. Too easy, too predictable. She’d only examined the gate to scare me into trying to solve this non-problem and force me to use my only trump card (I don’t have several old beds in the barn), and meanwhile she’d gone and jumped over a different pallet in a different part of the fence.

That other pallet had a sheep netting stretched above it, so that a) I thought it was unjump-able, b) Pampe thought it was a more amusing challenge. Poor Baby Poldine was a bit distraught; she clearly didn’t dare to jump to follow her mum but she didn’t want to be left behind once again, so she tried to slip through the net, but that didn’t work either.

Poldine made a baa noise like a traumatised baby goat and Pampe grudgingly turned back to go bump noses with her through the fence, it was a cute mother-daughter moment.

I added a new length of wire mesh (see pink arrow in the below pic) above the pallet to discourage further jumping, and my mum went “So you can remove the sheep netting and use it elsewhere” and I was like, what, no! Do you think they remove parts of the fence every time a Jurassic Park dinosaur escapes? That makes no sense. I’m only going to add more elements to this fence. Forever and ever or until it works.

Pirlouit, a law-abiding animal with very modest fence needs, was starting to look a bit overwhelmed.

Also—for once, Pampe didn’t look annoyed about being escorted back where I wanted her to be, she was kind of bouncy and looked immensely entertained by all this.

I’ll spare you the details but she escaped again, this time by lifting the bottom of the fence in a place where it was weighed down with a crossbar, which she broke in two with the power of her neck. That was easy to fix; instead of a wooden crossbar I weighed down the base of the fence with massive rocks. Go ahead and neck chop those, Pampe. But this time around it had taken me forever to find the spot where she escaped, so I decided to make things easier for myself in the future—I cordoned off the area just outside the fence with police tape between trees, along the whole length of it. This way I’ll see easily where she escaped—the tape is very flimsy and I crisscrossed it in places, so she shouldn’t be able to get past it without breaking it.

... So I suppose I’ll have to start the next post with “You’ll never guess what I caught Pampe doing last night” and a photo of her like

Anyway, Pampe looked unamused this time.

Well, that’s all. For now. Pampérigouste is back in the lawful enclosure with her family and we are waiting for her next move. Here’s a photo of her alone in the unallowed half of her pasture the other evening, contemplating her freedom

#crawling along #llama drama

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river-taxbird · 3 months

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Have YOU got an old Windows PC Microsoft has told you can't run Windows 11? It's time to give it a new life!

How to install Windows 11 on unsupported PC Hardware using Rufus. You can also disable some other Windows 11 bullshit like data harvesting and needing a Microsoft account.

It has been in the news a lot lately that Windows 11 isn't allowed to be installed on PCs without certain requirements, including the TPM 2.0, a chip that was only included in PCs made in 2018 or later. This means that once Windows 10 stops receiving security updates, those PCs will not be able to (officially) run a safe, updated version of Windows anymore. This has led to an estimated 240 million PCs bound for the landfill. Thanks Microsoft! I get you don't want to be seen as the insecure one, but creating this much waste can't be the solution.

(I know nerds, Linux is a thing. I love you but we are not having that conversation. If you want to use Linux on an old PC you are already doing it and you don't need to tell me about it. People need Windows for all sorts of reasons that Linux won't cut.)

So lately I have been helping some under privileged teens get set up with PCs. Their school was giving away their old lab computers, and these kids would usually have no chance to afford even a basic computer. They had their hard drives pulled so I have been setting them up with SSDs, but the question was, what to do about the operating system? So I looked into it and I found out there IS actually a way to bypass Microsoft's system requirement and put Windows 11 on PCs as old as 2010.

You will need: Rufus: An open source ISO burning tool.

A Windows 11 ISO: Available from Microsoft.

A USB Flash Drive, at least 16GB.

A working PC to make the ISO, and a PC from 2018 or older you want to install Windows 11 on.

Here is the guide I used, but I will put it in my own words as well.

Download your Windows 11 ISO, and plug in your USB drive. It will be erased, so don't have anything valuable on it. Run Rufus, select your USB drive in the Device window, and select your Windows 11 ISO with the Select button. (There is supposed to be a feature in Rufus to download your ISO but I couldn't get it to work.?

Choose standard windows installation, and follow the screenshot for your settings. Once you are done that, press Start, and then the magic happens. Another window pops up allowing you to remove the system requirements, the need for a microsoft account, and turn off data collecting. Just click the options you want, and press ok to write your iso to a drive.

From there you just need to use the USB drive to install windows. I won't go into details here, but here are some resources if you don't know how to do it.

Boot your PC from a USB Drive

Install Windows 11 from USB Drive

If you had a licensed copy of Windows 10, Windows 11 will already be licensed. If you don't, then perhaps you can use some kind of... Activation Scripts for Microsoft software, that will allow you to activate them. Of course I cannot link such tools here. So there you go, now you can save a PC made from before 2018 from the landfill, and maybe give it to a deserving teen in the process. The more we can extend the lives of technology and keep it out of the trash, the better.

Additional note: This removes the requirement for having 4GB Minimum of RAM, but I think that requirement should honestly be higher. Windows 11 will be unusable slow on any system with below 8GB of RAM. 8GB is the minimum I think you should have before trying this but it still really not enough for modern use outside of light web and office work. I wouldn't recommend trying this on anything with 4GB or less. I am honestly shocked they are still selling brand new Windows 11 PCs with 4GB of ram. If you're not sure how much RAM you have, you can find out in the performance tab of Task Manager in Windows, if you click the More Details icon on the bottom right. If you don't have enough, RAM for old systems is super cheap and widely available so it would definitely be worth upgrading if you have a ram starved machine you'd like to give a new life.

#Windows #Windows 11 #tech #tech advice #pc #TPM 2.0 #rufus #open source #open source software #technology #tech tips

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tommydarlings · 10 months

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Boys? Men! | t.w

pairing: dom!toto x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, blindfolding, inappropriate usage of a tie, spitting, ruined orgasm

w/c: 3k

summary: Dating Toto Wolff right after you broke up with Mick Schumacher is something you can definitely argue about, but you just realised that older man do it way better, especially jealous old man that are rather possessive over what's their's.

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Honestly, you didn’t even wanted to put that black little dress on and drive in that old timer Mercedes with your boyfriend toto to this 'super important' event that he had to attend.

But since you’re his lovely girlfriend, you’ve decided to join your hardworking boyfriend.

And you definitely didn’t regret your choice as soon as you saw Michael Schumacher’s golden retriever son, mick.

You and mick had a tiny bit of… history. You’ve met each other through formula one — since you are actually a pretty well known photographer in the industry — got pretty close friends, hooked up multiple times, kind of acted like you were a couple but never put an actual label on it and then decided that staying normal friends would be the best option.

And none of you cared about the fact that the two of you got some history… not until you started dating his boss — right before he joined Mercedes—, Toto Wolff.

Was it maybe a tiny bit bold? Yes. Did you care what others had to say about it? No, not one bit. You didn’t even think about it that much.

But what you definitely do think about is walking up to mick now and starting a harmless conversation with him, tilting your head to the side before you set your champagne glass down and leaned into Toto’s touch,

“I'm gonna be right back, darling.” You mumbled into his ear after he bend down to hear you better.

He briefly stopped taking with some random, old dude you’ve never seen before, putting his attention onto you now. “Where are you going, Schatzi?” He asked you, furrowing his brows.

You cleared your throat, “I-I’m just gonna have a quick chat with somebody.” You replied as you looked up at him.

Toto clenched his jaw before he quickly threw his gaze in the big room, eyes scanning the place before they landed on mick on the other side off the room, making his lips turn upwards into a very tiny smirk before he looked down at your figure again, “Alright honey.” Briefly bending down to give you a quick peck before he turned around again and continued his conversation.

You gulped before you made your way over to mick, squeezing through a few people before you finally reached him, smiling at him as soon as he noticed you.

“Y/n, hey!,” mick started as he went in for a big hug, “What are you doing here? Supporting your man?” You nodded at his question, briefly checking him in that neat black and white suit that he’s wearing out before you put your eyes onto his face again.

“Yep, gotta be supportive, right?” You chuckled, slowly making your way over to him and leaned your back against the wall right next to his taller figure, turning your head to look at him.

“You’re here alone?” You asked him curiously.

He sighed as he put his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, “Why would you care?”

His answer suprised you a bit. You knew that the break up was mutual but you also knew that in the end it was always mick how wanted an 'us' more that you did. You gulped again,

“I don’t, I’m just curious mick.”

He briefly shook his head, “Yeah, s-sorry,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, “it’s okay,” you answered.

You removed your gaze from mick and looked across the room to put your eyes on your tall boyfriend standing at the other side of the room, still chatting with that random guy.

Mick briefly grinned before he cleared his throat, “I mean, as long as you love him, everything’s good, right?” He turned to face you again, seeing your grin now, desperately trying to hold a giggle in.

Your ex tilted his head to the side, “what’s so funny?”

Then you just shook your head before you started singing your's and mick's favourite song that you’ve danced to a dozen of times when the two of you were still together.

“As long as you love me,” you suddenly started imitating the backstreet boys's iconic song.

Mick chuckled at your obviously awful attempt to sing the song, “Who you are,” he continued.

“Where you’re from.”

“As looooooong as you loooooooove meereeeeeee.” He dragged out the o's in a rather loud manner, making you lean into his side and laugh into his chest as his head fell on top of yours, both of you squeezing your eyes shut as you just unstoppably laughed at your extremely bad singing voices.

But then, as soon as you opened your eyes, you were only able to see your boyfriend, Toto, spitting daggers your way, tightly holding his champagne glass before you removed your body from mick's warmth again.

You gulped before you looked up at the blond man, “I’m gonna go back to toto again, was very nice to see you tho, mick!” You told him as you slowly made your way over to your visibly angry looking boyfriend.

He nodded and smiled at you, “yep, no problem! See you, y/n!” He kindly answered before you turned around and went to the boss of your ex boyfriend, eyes only staring at the floor.

Toto cleared his throat as soon as you stood in front of him, silently forcing you to look up at him. You briefly bit your lip before you raised your head and looked at him.

“And? How was your little chat with your dear ex boyfriend?” He asked you in a rather mad tone. You rolled your eyes at his tone, making him quickly get a hold of your upper arm, pulling you closer to his body.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me and answer my question,” Toto told you harshly, making you gulp before you spoke up,

“It was good, funny,” you answered, making him grin.

“That’s what I’ve already guessed since you leaned your body so close to his after he told you some stupid joke.” You were only able to bite your inner cheek at his jealous behaviour, desperately having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes again.

“He just told me a joke, what’s your damn problem here?” You asked him in a mad tone, making the men that stood behind him turn around and take a long look at you.

“You’ve got a problem as well, or what?” You asked one of the man that stared at you like you’re an alien, making toto quickly turn around and apologise before he squeezed your upper arm even tighter and pushed your towards the exit of the big building, swiftly opening the car door of his black Mercedes before he basically threw you in the passenger seat, shutting the door in a harsh motion before he got into the drivers seat, starting the engine.

“That hurt, Toto,” you quietly told him. Toto briefly grinned, “That won’t be the only thing that will hurt tonight,” he mumbled very quietly as you furrowed your brows and gulped at his words.

- - -

The air was definitely very thick between the two of you as you entered the big mansion that Toto let you live in ever since you started dating him.

You quickly went to work and removed your black high heels from your feet, putting them aside as you watched Toto’s gaze following every single move of yours while he removed his blazer and loosened his black tie a bit before he pulled it down, keeping it in his hand.

Just when you wanted to make your way upstairs into the bedroom, toto stretched his long arm out and stopped your moving body by your stomach, not even looking at you when he spoke up,

“Where do you think you’re going, little one… huh?” He asked you in a deep tone, hand now slowly gliding up to your throat, gently wrapping it around your soft skin.

You slightly furrowed your brows before you gulped, “Upstairs, to change,” you answered innocently, but Toto’s hand only tightened around your throat, swiftly pulling your visibly tinier figure in front of his taller one, forcing your to look up at him.

Toto grinned at your answer, looking down at you with a gaze that you already knew all to well, pure anger and jealousy.

“You’re going nowhere tonight, baby,” he whispered before he put his big palm onto the back of your neck and forced you to walk with him towards the other side of the room, harshly pressing your body against the wall, immediately burying his nose into the back of your head.

Your formed your hands into fists as his mouth hovered above your ear, warm breath hitting your sensitive skin now.

“I asked you to come to this gala with me just so I could show all of my colleagues and friends what for a pretty little thing I got myself here,” he mumbled quietly into your ear from behind, slowly unbuttoning his black slacks now,

“But instead they saw what a disrespectful little brat I got myself here,” he finished off while you felt him pushing your thong to the side, exposing your wet cunt.

You whined in a high pitched tone as he swiped his long fingers through your pussy after he spit on them to wet them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his hand was placed around your throat again, softly squeezing it as he watched your wet pussy, swallowing his finger as he shoved two of them into you.

You gasped as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, thumb caressing the side of your neck as he fucked you knuckles deep from behind, making your legs shake.

You leaned your head forward, forehead now pressed against the white wall, “F-Fuck, please t-toto,” you sniffled as tears formed in your eyes, orgasm already approaching you since you were already quite horny in the car,

“P-Please don’t stop…it f-feels so good, oh my g-god,” you whined in a high pitched tone before you heard toto chuckle at your words.

He briefly kissed the top of your head, “Tell me one logical reason why I should let you come right now, sweetheart,” he demanded in a rather kind tone, fingers only going faster by now.

You gasped as his movements got harder, legs already shaking, “I-I, please, I d-don’t know…but please!” You begged him loudly, not giving a damn if the neighbours hear you.

“You don’t know?” He asked you teasingly.

You shook your head, tears gliding down your heated cheeks, “N-No, I’m so s-sorry toto!” You whined pathetically, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers suddenly slowed their movements down, making you gasp.

“N-No! P-please toto, I'm sorry-”

“Shut. Up., alright?” He tilted his head to the side as his finger left your begging cunt, legs still shaking from the now ruined orgasm.

With shaking legs you fell onto the hard wooden floor, palms balancing your now visibly weak figure while you sniffled, only noticing in the corner of your with tears filled eye how toto sighed before he bend down and brushed some of your hair out of your face.

Tie still clutched in his hand, Toto looked down into you eyes, slightly smirking as he saw how glassy they actually are.

Then, after calming down a tiny bit, toto stood up again, towering in front of your now kneeling figure as he let his black tie dangle in front of your face — smiling as your small grin fell, fresh tears covering your vision again.

“I don’t think that you deserve to see me, schatzi,” toto mumbled in quiet tone, slowly brushing your messy hair behind your ear before he leaned forward and put the tie around your head, covering your vision with the expansive piece of clothing.

You gasped as he glided his fingertips over your neck and down to your shoulder blades, thumb still drawing unknown figures on your heated skin as he spoke up,

“Get up.”

You gulped at his demanding tone but quickly got up and played with your fingers due the nervousness you were currently feeling. Toto got a hold of your waist then and guided you towards — what you’ve guessed — another room. And your guess was right as soon as he turned your body around, picked you up and placed you onto the cold surface of the kitchen counter.

You bit your lip as he spread your legs, quickly removing your bottom lip from in between your teeth again as you suddenly felt him kissing your stomach, making his way towards your begging pussy which was still extremely wet.

“You know, sweetheart,” Toto began as he kissed his way around your pussy lip but then going up your thighs again,

“I though you wanted someone who’s mature and earns a lot of money and is, well… visibly older than you because you just love being seen as the pretty little girl that got herself the rich old man, the CEO of the Mercedes formula one team, you know?” You only nodded and gulped as his lips got closer to your pussy.

“But then you leave my side and walk over to,” he made a brief pause to use his fingers to spread your pussy lips, fingertip of his pointer finger now gently touching your clit, “this immature, young, almost 'no-name' boy and laugh with him and touch him and stare at him like he’s the love of your life,” he told you quietly before he spit on your clit, letting his spit run down to your entrance.

His fingertips were only teasing your clit now even more, spreading the spit all over your clit and entrance, “that’s pretty pathetic if you ask me, baby,” he mumbled under his breath, fingertips now leaving your wet pussy before he blew some air on your clit, making your legs shake again and gasp.

You swallowed and sniffled at his feather light touches and breath that was hitting your clit at the moment, “O-Oh my god,” you whined loudly, “Please toto, I l-love you,” you gasped again as he leaned forward and gave your clit a peck, “I o-only love a-and want you, y-you know-”

“Do I? Do I really know that?” Fingertips only gently touching your big clit now, teasing it as tears made their way down your red cheeks, some falling down your temple, some landing in your open mouth.

He cleared his throat, “Because if I know that — like you claim I do — then you should know, that you should have never even started this conversation with your ex boyfriend, you know how much I hate seeing you with oth-,” he briefly stopped, tongue touching your clit now as he moaned at your taste, briefly spitting on it again before he ran the tip of his tongue all over your clit, “boy's, because they are no men yet.”

You whined in a high pitched tone as he closed his mouth around your clit, sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, basically making you see stars while your tears of pleasure and slight pain were still covering your vision — and the black tie, of course.

Your hands gripped the side of the counter as he shook his head from side to side, tongue not leaving your drenching wet pussy for one single second, making entire body shake and fall slightly forward.

“Toto, c-can I-, fuck! O-Oh my g-god, can I p-please see you a-again, please!” You cried out while he didn’t stop eating your pussy like a starved man, groaning and moaning into it, sending strong vibrations through your begging cunt.

Toto briefly removed his head after sucking on your clit for a few seconds, spreading your legs even further apart, almost forcing your knees to touch your collarbone before he went back in to eat you out, slurping your juice up and lapping onto your clit like his life depends on it, quietly humming a low 'mhh, mhh' into your pussy, basically telling you 'no'.

Obviously, you whined as you heard his answer as a new orgasm approached you, tears already staining the black tie that’s still covering your vision. You gasped before your fingers left the kitchen counter and tangled themselves into his hair, slightly pulling his mouth more and more into your pussy.

He briefly looked up at you, flashing you a quick smirk before he started to flick your poor clit with his tongue at an almost unimaginable pace, making you cry out,

“Can I-I please cum, t-toto…please,” you begged in a high pitched tone as your legs started to shake again, fingers gripping his hair now even tighter as the tears only continued to run down your temple.

“I wanna c-cuuuuum,” you cried out as Toto’s movements got even sloppier, making it even harder for you to hold everything back.

He quickly squeezed your thigh to grab your attention since you're slowly falling into subspace, “Tell me you're mine and mine only and I let you cum,” he mumbled into your pussy before he shook his head from side to side again.

You screamed as you almost choked on your tears as he did that again but quickly focusing on your answer since you really needed to cum.

“I-I am yours, toto,” you took a deep breath before you continued, “I'm all y-yours, and yours o-only…I p-promise!” You almost screamed at the top of your lungs as you felt your entire body starting to shake.

Before you came all over his mouth, you saw him smiling like a proud boyfriend, slowly nodding at your answer, “Then you may cum, pretty girl,” he whispered right before he licked all of your cum up, spitting some of it onto your clit but also swallowing some of it, groaning as he did so.

He kissed his way up your things before he stood up and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, looking down at you.

You sniffled as you tried to calm your shaking legs down but nothing helped, as your boyfriend noticed that, he put his arms around you and put your head on his chest, stroking your head.

“Shh, it’s okay… I’ve got you, I always do, don’t it? I’m yours…just like you’re mine.” He told you in a bit of deeper tone, clearly implying the situation with mick. You looked up at him,

“I love you.”

“Oh baby, I love you too,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

#fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff smut #toto wolff #toto wolff mercedes #toto wolff fanfic #smut #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 x you #Toto Wolff x fem!reader #Patreon

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2500

a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.

masterlist | part two

He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant.

It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest.

The best things are inspired.

Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that.

A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant.

He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article.

When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country.

But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for.

Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls.

The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired.

He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.

It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out.

“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles.

“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish.

It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once.

Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite.

As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment.

The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce.

The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week.

-------------------------------

You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do.

“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen.

“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.

“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards.

“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.

“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell.

You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.

“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll.

“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!”

“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.

As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen.

But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.

Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home.

You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff.

He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.

The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular.

“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”

“Hi, I’m Luca.”

You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand.

Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily.

“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you.

“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin.

“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat.

You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him.

He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).

“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish.

Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef.

It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish.

“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him.

He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:

“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.”

Oh.

You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far.

"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole.

He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.

Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.

He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.

"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”

“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen.

-------------------------------

“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting.

As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service.

Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant.

“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look.

“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”

One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed.

You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding.

“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”

“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly.

“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently.

To the Chef, the front of the card reads.

“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother.

He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you.

As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.

Chef,

Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it.

Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302

While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?

You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it.

Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.

“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”

“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”

“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.

“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look.

“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands.

“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh.

“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down.

“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed.

“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.

Oh shit, is right.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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The other day, I wrote a post where I used the word "producers" when what I really wanted to use was "the powers that be" because I feel like I rarely hear people refer to TPTB anymore. These days, it feels like I more often see people discussing named individuals such as writers, producers, directors, or studio heads.

I kind of miss the vagueness of TPTB. It's a phrase that evokes that faceless power of a corporate overlord, delivering edicts from on high regardless of what any particular fan or fandom wants. The Powers That Be are uncaring. Immovable. Implacable. They can't be wheedled or cajoled into changing their mind. They can't be bullied or harassed.

As a phrase, it also feels more accurate to the actual relationship at play. Fans don't actually have any power when it comes to decisions about our favourite media. We can vote in contests or try to boost numbers here or there, but ultimately that isn't what matters to TPTB. They make their decisions based on metrics that are in such opposition to how we base ours - they might as well be from another planet.

I think another reason I miss using that term is that it removed the illusion that we could do anything to influence canon. They gave us whatever they decided we'd get, and we'd make our stories and art and fanvids etc. in conversation or opposition to it.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just being nostalgic on a Tuesday night. But maybe I'll also start thinking about the powers that be again too.

#thinky thoughts

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amethystasra · 5 months

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14DWY is an 18+ game, minors DNI !

Ren/ AFAB Reader

2.4k words

Ren belongs to @14dayswithyou 🌟

You spent the day with Leon and Ren gets jealous. Based off a post that said Ren would only take his own pleasure into account if you manage to make him jealous enough, though this ended up being a lot softer than intended. Written with [REDACTED] in mind.

jealousy, reverse comfort and all that stuff:)

Five hours. Five hours, fifty-two minutes and thirteen seconds. That's how long you've been gone today. Ren looked at the time on his laptop, as he counted the seconds you were away. A painful emptiness in his heart, as he stared at the pictures of you and him that hung on your shared walls. He missed you so much. Even a minute without you is enough to turn him into a sobbing mess.

He heard your laugh coming from his laptop -That he had been using to listen in on your conversations through your phone- followed up by someone else's that made his fists curl up in anger. Leon.

"I haven't seen Leon in weeks Ren. We're just catching up. It'll only be for a little while; I'll be right back." You had told him, after he had desperately tried to keep you home using numerous excuses as to why you shouldn't go.

Ren's possessive tendencies are already intense enough as it is, but oh your childhood friend, the piece of shit who had ruined his proposal to you all those years ago, made him feel a type of jealousy like no other. His jaw clenched as he forced out a –somewhat unsettling- smile. “Sorry angel. I just worry about you.” He pulled you closer to him, placing a kiss atop your forehead. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” He had no choice but to let you go, not wanting to risk a fight, and end up with you potentially viewing him in a bad light.

Ren felt his stomach churning, a mixture of jealousy and anger, hearing the two of you talk and laugh, while you ignored him. You had responded to the first couple of his texts, picked up the first few times he called, until you decided to put your phone on do not disturb.

"Is everything alright between you and that lanky fella, sunfish?" Leon’s voice was laced with concern. "You know all I want is for you to be happy, and I'll support you no matter what,” He paused for a second. “But, if I'm being honest, something about him just feels off. He’s called you, like what? Five times already?"

Ren felt his blood boil, his brain already coming up with ways to remove this pest that keeps on trying to separate him from his angel.

You were quick to dismiss Leon’s concerns. "He's just a bit clingy, that's all. It's actually kind of sweet. He just worries a lot." Ren's anger melted away, as you came to his defense, replaced by the utter love and devotion he feels for you. A literal angel.

Six hours and 20 minutes had passed when you finally returned home. Ren already stood waiting right in front of the door. Before you could even step inside you felt a pair of arms wrap around you tightly. "Woah, hello to you too." You giggled; a bit startled. Ren didn't respond as he pulled you inside, rested his head on top of yours and inhaled your scent. You embraced him back and smiled. "I missed you too Ren."

Ren finally pulled back enough to look at you.

"Did you?" He sounded sad, but there was also a certain sharpness in his voice. "Then why were you ignoring me?" The jealousy in his voice now becoming clear.

You frowned, feeling a twinge of guilt rise in you. "I'm sorry Ren. It's just, you were calling almost every 10 minutes and Leon-" Ren cut you off before you could finish your sentence. "Do you like him more than me?" His voice was intense, not mad, you knew he could never get mad at you. He sounded possessive, and if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would’ve almost missed the desperation his words were laced with. "No- no of course not." Heat rose to your cheeks as butterflies began to form in your stomach.

He stared at you intensely, putting his hand on your face and bringing his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. You kiss him back immediately. His hands grabbing your waist firmly, fingers digging into the plush skin. After what felt like forever, he finally pulled back.

"Then show me that you belong to me. That you're mine." He breathes, eyes half lidded. You nodded your head with a desperate gleam in your eyes, letting him know how much you want this too. "I'm yours Ren." You tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Only yours."

Ren's lips were back on yours in an instant, moaning into your mouth as his hands roamed all over your body. One was placed behind your head, as the other found its way to your breast, massaging it. After a while his hands settled around your thighs, and suddenly you were being lifted up and carried to the bedroom.

Ren gently set you down on the bed before stepping back and looking down at you with complete infatuation. "Strip for me." He ordered.

You stared at him for a second, unsure of where to start. When you took a little too long for his liking, he quirked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to get started. You slowly pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare chest. Ren looked at you intently, watching you undress for him, his hand slowly rubbing the bulge in his pants. Once you were done with the rest of your clothes, you sat back down on your knees, waiting obediently for your next order.

Ren stepped closer to the bed and put his hand on top of your hair and started petting it softly. "So obedient f'me. Such a good girl. Now open up." He put his free hand on your chin, and gently pried open your lips with his finger before shoving it in.

"Ah- fuck." Ren moaned as you immediately started sucking. He took a few seconds to relish in the way you seemed so eager to obey his every whim, before pulling his hand back and ordering you to lay down on the bed. He slowly started making his way over to the bedside table, never taking his eyes off you. He opened the drawer, pulling out a rope. "Hands above your head. Wrists together."

All you could do was silently obey as you felt your arousal dripping down your thighs. Ren bound your wrists to the headboard and stepped back for a second, admiring his handiwork.

"Mine." He whispered to himself quietly. A shameful thought crossed his mind, at the sight of you tied up beneath him. What if he kept you here permanently? tied up like this, in his bed. You sure seem to be enjoying yourself. Maybe you'd like this too.

Ren's heart raced at the thought of having you all to himself. Being the only one who gets to see you like this, the only one who gets to speak to you, the only one who gets to touch you, the only one who gets to receive your attention forever and ever and ever-

"Ren?" The sound of your voice softly calling out his name made him snap back to reality.

No. He’d never do that -except as a last resort of course, but he wouldn't let it come to that- he wants to share every single second of his life with you. He wants to watch the stars reflect in your eyes every night, he wants to take you on expensive dinners and shopping trips, give you everything you ask for, visit new places together, and make every single dream of yours come true. Because just as much as you were his, he was also yours. And if others tried to get in the way of that, he would simply have to get rid of them. It's going to be just the two of you for eternity, no matter what. He will make sure of that.

He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Patience, angel.”

He undressed himself, stroking his cock a few times before sitting down on the bed next to you. He softly cupped your face in the palms of his hands and kissed you. His hands slowly made their way down your body, making sure to not leave a single inch untouched. His hands came to an eventual halt a few inches from your soaking entrance. You bucked your hips against his fingers in an attempt for him to continue. He chuckled at your desperation, before sliding two fingers inside of you.

"God, you're soaked for me already. I don't even think you need any prep." He pumped his fingers in and out a few times before retracting them completely, and slowly licking them clean with a moan. He straddled your hips placing his cock at your entrance and gripping your waist firmly.

"Tell me how badly y'want it, angel. Tell me how badly you want me." The words escape your mouth before you can even think about it. "Please Ren. I need you." A sly smirk appeared on his face. "Please what? What do you need? Use your words baby."

"I need you to fuck me Ren plea-" before you could even finish your sentence Ren was already thrusting himself inside you, groaning loudly at the way your soft walls hugged his member. He waited a few seconds for you to adjust and started moving –at a pace a bit rougher than his usual- after you gave a confirming nod.

His fingers dig into the plush of your hips, as Ren continues fucking into you roughly like his life depends on it. He whimpers every time your walls clench around his cock.

Ren shamelessly moans out your name, while moving one hand to cup your face, and the other towards your clit, using his skilled fingers to rub it in circles. He's being so rough, yet so gentle at the same time.

"Keep making those pretty sounds for me f'me baby. Fuck you feel so good." He moans into the crook of your neck before gently biting into the skin there, leaving marks all over you.

He continues thrusting into you, searching your eyes after he decides he's left enough marks on your throat. His eyes glisten with something so utterly intense and passionate it leaves you speechless.

You close your eyes for a while, getting lost in way his cock slams in and out of you, and the way his slender fingers work on your clit, until you hear Ren calling out your name again. "Look at me baby, you're close, aren't you?" You try to answer him, but all you can manage is a nod and more jumbled moans. "Then cum for me angel."

The knot in your stomach tightens, and before you can even think about it you can feel yourself falling over the edge.

He works you through your orgasm, making sure you get to ride it out entirely. Once you start to shake from overstimulation, his hands move back down to grab your hips again on the same spot where marks are already beginning to show from his previous hold and

Ren's movements become frantic. "That's it baby, fuck." Ren lets out a mixture of whimpers and mumbled "I love You's" as he reaches his own peak and fills you up.

Ren pants into the crook of your neck while you both come down from your high. He doesn't back up. He clings to you, as if he fears you might disappear the moment he lets go, pushing his face a little further into your hair, his fingers tightening around your waist. After a few seconds, he takes a moment to quickly undo the bindings around your wrists. He massages the area that was bound, placing the softest kisses onto it before settling his head back in its prior spot.

Everything seemed peaceful, but you could tell something was off. He was somehow holding you even tighter than usual and the soft exhales of breath gliding down the side of your neck held something unspoken.

You reach up, one hand softly stroking through his hair, as you put your other on his face in an attempt to get him to look up to you. His face remained buried deep into the crook of your neck, a few quick sobs escaping his lips. You kiss him temple, waiting a few moments, knowing he usually doesn't like to show this more emotional side of himself, let alone talk about it. "Ren, what's wrong?" You ask him in the softest, most angelic voice.

He tries to choke back a response but ends up a stuttering mess. You place both your hands on his face now, making him look up at you with teary eyes. "It's okay, I'm here Ren, can you take some deep breaths for me?"

Ren does as he's asked, and eventually his breathing steadies. You wipe a few stray tears that still lingered on his rosy cheeks. "What's wrong?" You whisper again, so quiet he almost missed it.

"I- I just-" he begins slowly. "I missed you so much." He hesitates for a second, but a quick encouraging nod of your head makes him continue. "When you're not here with me, when you're with someone else, it feels as if all the air is ripped out of my lungs. It's like the moon and all the stars have disappeared from the sky and I'm left in complete darkness. I-” He looks up at you. “I just need you angel. I love you so much.”

Your eyes start to tear up at his words, you pull his face to yours and kiss him. “I love you too Ren, more than anything. Please don’t ever doubt that.” You wipe away the tears that fall from his eyes. “I’m not going to just disappear if I'm away for a few yours. I'll always come home to you. Please just let me know whenever you feel like this, okay?” Ren nods and kisses you again, before rolling onto his side and pulling you into his chest.

There are some more kisses and quiet words exchanged between the two of you before you both drift to sleep, dangled in each other's arms.

#14 days with you #14 days with you redacted #14dwy #14 days with you ren #ren x reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere visual novel #yandere x you #obsessive love #yandere drabble

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dreamerinthemoonlight · 5 months

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Genshin Guys with an S/O Dealing with Sensory Overload (Wriothesley, Diluc, Alhaitham, Neuvillette)

Please note that this is all from my experience. Obviously not everyone is going to experience it like this. Basically this is me shamelessly self-inserting again. I mean, what's new?

I'm going to format this as kind of scenarios in bullet point form, rather than my usual

CW: hurt/comfort, neurodivergent reader

Wriothesly x gn!reader, Diluc x gn!reader, Alhaitham x gn!reader, Neuvillette x gn!reader

Requests and Ask Box is OPEN

Wriothesley

Sensory overload isn't really that uncommon around Wriothesly

And it's not because he's loud or anything, but the Fortress of Meropide isn't a quiet place. I imagine there's always a lot of little sounds even at night. Stuff like dripping pipes, hissing steam, little things

And even if you're not hanging out at Fortress, the city isn't even much quieter

Thankfully he's the perceptive, people-smart type so there's no way in hell sensory overload is getting past him

Tight fists, pinched eyebrows, flinching at loud noises, yeah, he ain't missin' that shit

When he notices you doing that he's quick to finish whatever conversation he's in and bringing you to a quieter location

He's either soundproofed his room or set aside some space in the fortress where you can be alone in the quiet. If you need music to avoid complete and total quiet he has some soft records for you to listen to

Diluc

Diluc has an easier time dealing with the sensory overload

When the day has left you worn out, overloaded, and on edge, wincing at even soft noises, you seek out Diluc

Of course, if you're helping/hanging out at the Angel's Share, chances are he's already at least noticed your reactions to the ambient chaos

If he can't get away from the bar, he hands you the keys to his room and tells you to go rest, that he'll be up when he's free

At the Winery, he's left instructions that even if he's not there, you should be brought to a quiet out of the way room (ehem, his room) and given whatever you need

In either location, as soon as he's free he's coming to make sure you're alright. He usually has something for your headache, knowing that you've probably got one

If you let him, he'll want to hold you, rubbing circles into your shoulder. But if you need space, he'll leave you be once

More than anything he's intent on making any of his spaces safe and comfortable for you

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is an asshole and doesn't people, but when it comes to sensory overload he's 100% sympathetic

I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's something he deals with on the regular

It's also not something you can hide from him (in fact you might go to him because he's a quiet person who has no issues telling anyone who would bother you to go sit on it)

The first thing he does is kick whoever he's talking to out of the room. Unlike Wrio, he doesn't bother wrapping up the conversation, he just tells them to leave

If you're at his house, Kaveh gets told to find a different room to occupy and Kaveh actually listens (I mean, Kaveh is a nice guy who isn't going to be mean to you just to give his roommate the metaphorical middle finger. Really, neither of them are.)

Once he's gotten rid of any annoyances, he's handing over his headphones

He also helps darken the room your in (modifications Kaveh helped with--I feel like both of them are far more willing to accommodate you than each other, even if it means working together)

After that, he just leaves you alone. If you have a headache, he'll find something to help, but he just goes to read

If you're in a place where he can't just shoo people away and remove any offending sensations, he goes out of his way to comfort you (which took him forever to figure out how to do, but he likes you so it's worth the effort). Even if it's just lending you headphones while he takes you by the hand and leads you through the city

Neuvillette

Honestly, it takes Neuvie a while to get used to a S/O who is prone to Sensory Overload

He's not human and is very much accustomed to the chaos of the Opera Epiclese, Palais Mermonia, and Fontaine City in general

So when Sedene lets you in to Neuvie's office (he's left instructions that unless he's in a conversation you can't be privy to, you're just to be let in) and you're nearly in tears, he's very concerned

Anything he's doing is immediately set to the side so he can figure out what's wrong

When he figures out that your brain just can't process any more input without feeling like it's about to spontaneously combust, he's a little confused, but he focuses more on how to help you

First things first, he has you hydrate while he tells Sedene to not let anyone in unless it's an emergency and finishes up whatever he's doing. If you're not feeling well, he wants to be able to focus his attention on you

Then he takes you somewhere quieter and darker

Eventually, much like Diluc and Wrio, he sets aside a place for you to go. He makes sure you can keep it as dark and quiet as you want, while making sure any sensory things you gravitate to are easily accessed

On days where you decide to take a nap, it's not uncommon to see him wrapped around you, letting his naturally cool temperature soothe you

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karliahs · 2 years

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i often see people say they can't go to the library because they lost/never returned/dropped some library books in a bath or something, and now view themselves as heinous library criminals who would be yelled at and/or hit with a huge bill if they ever went back

and obvs i can't make promises unless you came into my specific library and were served by me but here are 10 reasons i think if you went in and politely explained the situation to a member of staff it'd probably be fine:

consider this from the library's perspective. those books are probably never coming back regardless. that value (having the books back), which is probably the reason the library has a fines system to begin with, is not gonna happen. the value of retaining you as a customer though is right there in front of them

if you explain that a fine is too high for you to pay and that that is keeping you from coming back to the library, what you've basically said is that there is an impediment to your library access. part of the job of anyone who works in a library is to remove that impediment

library computer systems will vary hugely and if it's been a long time there is a significant chance there isn't even a record of your lost books anymore

the pandemic affected library access significantly and a lot of libraries will have had amnesties once they reopened to get people over the hump of oh god oh god i've had these books FOREVER i can never show my face again. even if that amnesty is officially over, the fact that there was one helps the person in front of you justify waiving the fee (which, if they're like me and you aren't being cruel, they are probably looking for a reason to do!)

a lot of libraries have reduced or no fines for children, so if you lost books as a kid there's even more of a chance there won't be a fine

the person you speak to at the front desk at a library is probably not an accredited Librarian TM but a nice underpaid person who has to deal with a lot of difficult customers going off on them for no reason (also accredited librarian tms are also pretty nice usually). i would take 100 people politely explaining that they've lost books and are very embarrassed over one person whose purpose that day is to belittle me, a captive audience who has to be nice no matter what. library assistant jobs are often not that different from customer service jobs! a lot of library assistant jobs now explicitly are customer service jobs! it is so so likely that that person wants nothing less than to have an adversarial conversation with you

if you haven't been to a library since you were a lot younger, it is almost certainly no longer what you're picturing. most modern libraries are actively trying to move away from the image of severe quiet building where you will be shhhhed and sternly told to look after your books or else. we're trying to be vibrant community hubs full of friendly people who will do their best to help you

library employees, bizarrely enough, probably don't think of each individual book as being that valuable compared to other readers. if you own a book and keep it forever and read it maybe twice, barring any crazy accidents it'll probably last decades. if a book is on the shelves of a public library and is regularly borrowed, it'll last...3-5 years, maybe. a busy library will discard large volumes of stock every year because that's just how it works. you lose that sense of the sanctity of every copy of every book pretty fast in these kinds of jobs

libraries need people to use them! a huge huge part of getting library funding is demonstrating how many people use and value your service. you and the library staff are on the same side: they also want you to be able to use the library again

a public library has witnessed behaviours the likes of which you cannot imagine. people have shoved books down our toilets. people have looked at porn on library computers in full view of everyone around them. people have thrown chairs out of the window. losing books happens all the time and is so unlikely to phase staff who are probs a little bit dead inside

tldr: come back to the library, we need you visiting and using the service more than we need the books you accidentally lost, also if the person you talk to is anything like me they're probably just glad you aren't yelling at them

#like so many situations in life if you are polite and reasonable you will be a blessing to customer service workers #people are so fucking rude and dehumanising i do not care if you lost one of our books when you moved house 5 hears ago #talking

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butchdiaz · 19 days

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ask for essays on tommy's nerves have essays on tommy's nerves delivered directly to your doorstep!!! sorry in advance for the length and incoherency of this ask because lou's acting choices genuinely make me feel deranged, we are so lucky to have him.

exhibit a: the hand on the chin when buck opens the door. he's thought about this so carefully you can tell from the moment he enters the scene. and i don't even mean the kiss. i don't think tommy knew that was going to happen until approx. five seconds before it did. but he wants to get this conversation right.

exhibit b: the fucking breathlessness when he says "we can talk" (yes we're still not even in the loft yet). like that is the breathlessness of a man seeing whom he assumes is his emotionally unavailable big boy crush and realising he's going to have to smooth things over between him and the man most likely making him unavailable to tommy. (it's also just tommy seeing big beefy tank buckley and getting a little flustered methinks)

exhibit c (moving actually into the loft now): obsessed, deeply deeply obsessed with the way buck removes the obstacle of the kitchen island between them and tommy immediately crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to put it back between them subtly because he still doesn't think he's allowed to Want.

exhibit d: the way he literally cannot look at buck as buck starts moving in closer quite literally makes me want to rip my hair out. like baby, you're allowed to look i promise, i swear.

exhibit e: the breakout of the laugh to full seriousness as he commits to the "i'm renowned for my fake mouth static" is so special to me because. i have done that. i have committed to a bit that was perhaps a bit too revealing/suggestive with my heart pounding as a way of testing the waters. and then the relieved amusement of his "cmon hey" when buck plays into it.

exhibit f: the way tommy looks at buck when buck's giving his little "threw in with us no hesitation" speech is so. that man is ANCHORING his eyes to buck's eyes. he's still not allowed to look, he is being respectful, he is overcompensating, he is FIGHTING for his life.

exhibit g: his tiny little smile when buck mentions the tour. you wanted to see me? 🥺

exhibit h: the fucking recoil when buck says he wanted to get to know him. the disbelief. the oh. the maybe i can have this.

exhibit i: the slow drop of his smile the more time buck spends mentioning eddie (which btw why is that line so long fuck off buck stand up!!) thinking oh never mind.

exhibit j: "i could teach you" with that bashful little shrug of his shoulders. i could teach you if you'd let me.

exhibit k: the realisation that sinks in after buck says about flying lessons. he wants to spend time with me, he's moving closer. oh shit, i'm allowed, i'm allowed, i'm allowed. the seriousness. the i have to make him understand i want him. the first time he lets his eyes drop to buck's lips.

exhibit l: my attention? one last check. one last check just to make sure. i can want this, i can want him.

exhibit m: his little kind of glassy-eyed smile between "i did maim my best friend" and "my sister". he is not listening to a word buck says. he is making a decision. a terrifying decision, but he's already made it.

exhibit n (typed through tears lol): the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls away. buck is opening his but tommy squeezes his shut harder. he doesn't want to see the disgust on buck's face. he's bracing for rejection. he's hoping, hoping, hoping.

exhibit o: the breathlessness of "like that?" please tell me that was okay, please tell me that's allowed, please please please. the clench of his jaw as he waits for buck's answer, the slight nod like he's confirming something to himself.

exhibit p: the smile when it sinks in that buck wants this. the smile before the immediate "so that was okay?" just needing that verbal confirmation for buck, yeah, but also for himself.

and then for me it's the complete shift in tommy's demeanour after buck confirms it's okay. he goes from this quiet, hesitant, reserved tommy to this confident, flirty, little bit sensual tommy the moment he's allowed. cross town traffic 🫦 came in a car this time 😏. it's just such a wild switch up but it makes so much sense because the nerves have gone. he's allowed to want. (jesus got halfway through the alphabet sorry)

SAMI IM GONNA SCREAM BRB TIME TO WATCH THIS SCENE SIDE BY SIDE W UR ANALYSIS THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#i love u endlessly #im absolutely OBSESSED #answered #sami

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that-basic-simp · 1 month

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The Ronin and The Bride

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 2.6k+ Uses mostly he/him pronouns for Mizu until towards the end.

"You're a lot younger than I expected you to be," I said as I was standing in front of my soon to be husband.

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

"Take it as you will," I said, turning away from him.

My mother arranged this marriage as she was starting to get older and prone to more accidents if she wasn't taken care of. I think it was an excuse to get some money after my father passed away. And I couldn't really bring in money no matter how many jobs I took on. And my mother was always selling her body to any man she would to get money. It was never enough and so deciding to marry me off to someone was the best option.

"Let's get this over with," I sighed.

Once everything was said and done, my mother was milling about the small house my husband owns. It wasn't the best for us, but it held the three of us and that was all that mattered. There was a small little farm in the back where we could grow our own vegetables. There were even some cattle in the back as well. So there really wasn't much for us to worry about when it came to food, as there was plenty already harvested and ready to be prepared.

"What's your name?" I turned to the man.

"Mizu," he said, removing his Kasa from his head. "Yours?"

"Y/N," I said.

"Nice to meet you."

"What did you do before getting married?"

"I killed people," was all he said and bluntly.

"Like a samurai? A lord's swordsman?"

"No. I don't really know what to call it."

"A ronin, maybe?"

"That might work."

"Are you still killing people?"

"I," Mizu let out a sigh. "I tried to. But it seems people find me and want to kill me for what I've done."

"And what have you done?"

"Kill people."

"Right," I said. "They want to get revenge on the person who killed someone they knew."

"I was out for revenge," Mizu said.

"You were?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What for?"

Mizu stood up and opened the door, walking out. I let out a sigh as my mother shook her head at me. I stood up and went after Mizu, but he was nowhere to be found. Not even where the tools were to shear the sheep and tend to the livestock. I turned and headed back inside, preparing dinner for us.

When the sun was slowly falling down into the horizon, the door opened up and Mizu walked in. Sweat was running down his forehead and there was something odd about him. He wasn't very masculine for a man. He looked kind of slender, but not very muscular at all. Well, I shouldn't say muscular. I should say, he's not very broad. And there isn't really any facial hair on him. I shouldn't judge. My father had a clean face and whenever his mustache or beard grew in, he'd shave it almost immediately. He didn't care for that kind of look.

I guess I shouldn't really say that Mizu isn't like other men. Maybe that's a good thing. He let out a sigh as he sat down, finding that there were bowls of noddles prepared for him. It wasn't much, but it was what I could do with what he had already here.

Dinner was silent. My mother tried to make conversation with Mizu, but he gave off the impression that he didn't want to talk. Always looking away from her, pretending like he didn't hear, or shrugged his shoulders. There was also another odd thing about him. His glasses. He always wore them, yet again, I've only seen him a couple of times throughout the day. What were they hiding if he was in fact hiding something?

After dinner was finished and cleaned up, my mother went into a different room while Mizu and I were in the same room. He was washing up while I had just finished. It was odd, laying on a mat that wasn't my own. Or I should say, it wasn't in my own house. I didn't feel like I belonged here and that this marriage was going to go anywhere. It felt like Mizu already had a life planned out for himself and now that he has to take care of not only a wife, but his wife's mother, it felt like we were impeding on his life.

Once the door slid open, I looked up and found Mizu's hair to be long and down, past his shoulders. Strange. I know some men have long hair, but I wasn't expecting it to be that long. And silky too, with how the light of the candle reflected off of it. It reminded me of water, like his name. How reflective and wavy it was. And his skin looked soft and gentle, not hard and rough. There was something Mizu wasn't telling me.

"Mizu?" I asked.

"Oh shit," he gasped, jumping slightly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I thought you were asleep."

"I can't."

"It'll take some time to get used to."

"How come you don't really talk to us? To me?"

"I wouldn't blame anything on yourself," Mizu said, getting ready for bed. "I am not really the best person to converse with. I was alone for the majority of my life aside from my adoptive father."

"Who was he?"

"Master Eiji. A sword maker near Kohama village. I grew up there."

"I see."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Kyoto."

"How was it there?"

"It was crowded. Dirty, too."

He snickered, "I thought the same thing."

"When did you go to Kyoto?"

"I had to find the Shindo-dojo and speak to the master there."

"I do remember hearing something of a samurai coming into the dojo and making quite the spectacle."

"That was me. Even though I am not a samurai. I never was."

"Why do you say that?"

"Samurai fight with honor. I had no honor back then. I still don't."

"All the more on why you fit with the ronin," I smiled softly at him.

He nodded before laying down on the mat and blowing out the candle. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but the curiosity behind Mizu's past kept me up.

The weeks went on and they soon turned into months, and Mizu still didn't really open up to me. He asked me a lot of questions, but whenever I would ask him anything of his past, he'd either leave or evade the question. It infuriated me, but one question bothered me.

"Mizu?" I asked as I was helping him with the harvest for this month.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Why did you allow me to marry you?"

He turned his head, finding my curious gaze at him.

"If I am going to be honest, it was the money."

"The money?"

"Yes. Call it selfish, but--"

I cut him off, slapping him in the face. He stumbled backwards slightly, holding his cheek as it was burning red.

"It is selfish!" I sneered at him. "You live out here by yourself, unbothered by people, and yet you buy me like I am being sold to one of those flesh traders. Or even into prostitution."

He was silent now, looking away from me.

"Do you even know how it feels? To be bought and sold just like that? For money being the only driving force to marry someone? You wouldn't know because you're a man! You don't have to worry about those things at all!"

There was something that changed behind those eyes. They always seemed cold and dull, but as soon as I said that, something snapped within Mizu. His eyes widened slightly, before narrowing as he slowly turned his head to face me. There was a raging storm within those eyes and even though I couldn't see his true eye color, I knew they were burning within. He stood up, straightening himself, even though he was a few inches taller than me.

"What do you know about me?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Nothing! I know nothing about you!"

"Exactly. And we're going to keep it that way."

"I don't even know why I accepted to marry you."

"I accepted. That was all that mattered."

"I should have talked my mother out of it."

"Did your mother have any other people in mind?"

"A few. They would pay more than what we offered you."

"And why did you choose me?"

"I guess it was because you lived out here and not in a city or someplace large like Edo."

"So you came out here for solace?"

"More so for my mother."

"You could have had anything you wanted, but settled to eat trash," Mizu said.

"It wasn't my fault that my mother insisted on me marrying you! Of all people, you! I could be in Edo right now," I said.

"And what? Married to the shogun's son? Basically being a baby factory for them?"

"It'll be better than living out here with nothing around other than a small village nearby to trade things for."

Mizu glared at me, "You chose this life. Not me."

He stalked off, heading inside the house. The door slammed and I winced slightly, letting out a sigh as I knew I had to face my mother once I entered the house. And face my mother I did. She went on to berate me, saying that is not how a wife should talk to her husband. She went into her room and I was left alone. I let out a sigh before getting dinner ready. Once it was, Mizu did not arrive to eat.

"Go find him," my mother said.

"Fine," I said and stood up, heading into our room.

Sliding the door open, Mizu was sitting in the corner.

"Dinner's ready if you want any," I said.

"Y/N, wait."

I stopped, not turning to face him.

"What?"

"Can you look at me?"

I turned and found his glasses were taken off. Slowly lifting his head, he opened them. My eyes widened slightly, finding the most beautiful shade of blue staring back at me.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I accept your apology. But why now? Why show me your eye color?"

"It's one way I know I can trust you. How you react is everything to me."

"Why?"

"I was ridiculed, bullied, and looked down upon for my eye color."

"What's so bad about having blue eyes?"

"First off, I have blue eyes in Japan. It's not normal."

"So your father was one of those white men?"

"Yes. How do you know about that?"

"My father was killed by one of those white men. He heard word that a white man was going to be heading to Edo to kill the shogun. He went to warn the shogun and he died there. He was face to face with that white man and he shot him down like he was nothing. That white man fought with no honor. But with pure intent of wanting all the power in the world."

"I-I was there."

"You were?"

"Yes," Mizu said. "I was there in Edo when that white man killed the shogun."

"Did you kill him?"

"N-No," Mizu turned away. "I-I went to London to find the other two. Once we got there, he ran. I knew nothing on London and decided to return back to Japan."

"So you were on a quest for revenge."

"I was. I never got to complete it."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

I nodded my head, "I see. And your eyes, they're very beautiful."

A small smile crawled on his face. That was the only time I have ever seen him smile since I was here.

"And I wouldn't be insecure about your eyes."

"What about your mother?"

"Around her, hide them. But around me, there is no need for you to hide who you are," I said, about to step out of the room. "I'll be beside you no matter what."

Within a few weeks, Mizu was starting to open up more. He was letting me help more around the small farm we had. Such as shearing the sheep, feeding the livestock, and he even took me into the woods to where this peach tree was. They were low enough to where Mizu could reach up with ease and grab one for me. We would spend hours there, just talking more and more about anything and everything. It made me smile to know that Mizu was warming up to the idea of married life.

"Y/N, we need to talk," Mizu said one night.

I was slicing carrots when he said that, almost making me cut my finger off. I had nicked the skin and Mizu rushed over, grabbing some bandages he kept nearby in case this happened.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah. I am. W-What did you want to talk about? I-Is it something that I did?"

"No, no, no," he shook his head, wrapping my finger up. "I-I've just been hiding something from you."

"It's only been half a year since we've been married. And now you're telling me this?"

"Yes. Because you deserve to know the truth."

"Truth? About what?"

"Your mother is not here, is she?"

"No. She went to the village to see if she can get anything for dinner tonight."

"Ok."

"Why?"

"I-It's better that I show you."

He reached up and removed his ponytail, letting his long hair fall down to around chest level. After that, he grabbed his haori and pulled it back, revealing a binding around his chest.

"I'm not a man."

"A woman," I said.

Mizu nodded, "Yes."

"And this changes how?"

She blinked a few times, "Y-You're taking this surprisingly well."

"I told you before, Mizu. There is no need for you to hide who you are around me."

Some tears formed in her eyes as she reached over, pulling me into a tight hug. Pushing her away, she looked confused at me.

"I-I am just shocked you hugged me."

"I-Is that ok? T-To hug you?"

I smiled, "Of course. Just warn me next time."

She chuckled, pulling me into a hug. I hugged her tightly, finally knowing the true Mizu.

"Thank you, Mizu."

"I didn't do anything."

"For showing me who you are."

She smiled, nuzzling the side of her face against mine.

"You're welcome."

My heart beat fast and hard against my chest. I wasn't liking the whole marrying someone I never met before idea, but with Mizu, I am glad my mother picked her from the other men.

"Oh shit!" I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away.

"What? What's wrong?"

"My mother cannot know about this," I said.

"Shit! Right. W-What would she do?"

"For starters, probably have you killed. Either by her hands or by someone else's. But I think by now that you'd kill them before they even drew your blood."

"That's true."

"Or worse," I let out a heavy breath. "She'd make me leave you for another man."

"You say that like a bad thing."

"And you say that like you want it to happen," I said, a little offended.

"I-I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I-It would be a bad thing for you. But also for me."

"W-What are you saying?"

"I-I've come to enjoy your company. Mostly yours since I have not acquainted well with your mother, but you," she found my eyes, a look of awe in them. "You're someone I want to have in my life. Someone I should have had in my life."

"Why someone like me?"

"You accepted me no matter what. You didn't judge about my eyes and you didn't judge about me revealing the truth. If I would have been found out anywhere else and with anyone else, I'd be rejected. You welcomed me even though we started off rough. Y-You've shown me what unconditional love is. And I couldn't be more grateful for that," she smiled softly at me.

I reached over and grabbed her hand, "Man or woman, Mizu, it doesn't bother me. I will still love you for who you are."

"L-Love me?" some blush crawled onto her cheeks.

My eyes widened, recognizing what I just said. Some blush came onto my cheeks as well.

"S-Shit," I whispered.

She chuckled, her smile growing wider, "So is that a confident response?"

I let out a sigh and placed my hands on her cheeks, pulling her towards me. My lips met hers lightly and her arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into her. She pulled back after a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Mizu asked.

"Yes, Mizu. I love you."

"I-I love you, too."

#bes mizu #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eye samurai

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