#unless they put out one that can top this :)

[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

-

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

-

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

-

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

[its-all-stardust]

Hey, so first of all, I love your work, it's absoluteley amazing!!!

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought that I would ask for a Matt Murdock x reader oneshot? You know, just something cute and fluffy?

Maybe I'm gonna sound a bit stereotypical but how about a reader that owns a bakery and wants to try out a new recipe. Matt tries to sneak a taste from time to time while "helping out" (honestly, he's just teasing and making reader's job probably harder [affectionaly]). Just domestic fluff? Maybe please?

You don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd give it a try :)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like my writing!! 🫂

I'm worried with this one that I tweaked things just enough that it's not exactly what you wanted anon, but I did my best and wrote what inspiration gave me!! I'll be honest, it could be fluffier, but I'm also not offended by my own writing so that's something lol I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

Check out this post for request guidelines

Masterlist

Matt Murock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 964

Was turning your residential apartment into a glorified bakery after you moved in with your boyfriend legal? According to Matt, a very good lawyer, it wasn’t technically illegal, so you did it anyway and prayed your landlord never found out.

It wasn’t really a bakery, not in the traditional sense. You didn’t try making it into a storefront, nor did you want it to be one. You did, however, take specialty orders through your website. You mainly baked for small events or private parties. You weren’t touching a wedding with a ten-foot pole unless you made the cake or just one of the cookies for the snack table.

It wasn’t enough to pay the bills on its own—you still had a full-time job—but you enjoyed it, and the small amount of extra income it generated was nice.

Matt enjoyed it, too. So much so that you often joked he had ulterior motives for dating you.

But even though baking was a passion, it still came with challenges.

You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned against your elbows, bent over the counter, and buried your face in your hands. 

This is the worst part about baking, you thought.

“Do you need help?” Matt asked, hand suddenly on your shoulder. You jumped, letting out a small gasp. “Sorry. I tried calling a couple of times.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, turning to wrap your arms around his middle, leaning into him, and pressing your face against his neck. “I just hate this.”

Matt huffed a laugh. “It can’t be so bad. You say that about every new thing you try.”

“But I really mean it this time!” you whined, though you actually didn’t.

You strived for perfection, but new recipes were always daunting. Either the first few batches didn’t meet your standards, or the very first one did, but the subsequent batches often failed. You thought once or twice about not adding anything new to your menu, but you needed to keep a refreshed list, or else you risked losing repeat customers—the ones who made this business possible for you in the first place.

“We can do it together,” Matt offered, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Will that make it better?”

You considered it for a moment. Matt’s taste was impeccable. You often used him—and Foggy and Karen—as guinea pigs, and he was always able to offer you the best advice. In another life, he would have been a fantastic chef. You’ve never baked anything with him before, only handed him the finished product.

If he helped you now, as you were putting everything together, it could make the whole try, try again process you had going significantly shorter, if not bypassed completely.

“Yes, actually. I think it will,” you answered, lifting your head up. 

The only problem: Matt was a complete and utter nuisance.

He wouldn’t do what you told him, at times completely forgoing your instructions—the one you found in an old cookbook that wasn’t like anything you found online—and adding either the incorrect amount of something or adding something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients.

No matter how many times you told him baking was an exact science and the time for experimentation was after you followed the recipe to a T and tasted the finished product, he refused to listen. You thought he did, at first, but then you caught him tossing in almond extract behind your back, and things only went downhill from there.

“Would you please stop sticking your fingers in the bowl?” you practically begged after you caught him helping himself to the cookie batter for the fourth time.

“How else am I supposed to taste it?” he asked with a playful smirk. He seemed to enjoy the fact he was making you want to pull your hair out.

“With the spoon I specifically set out for that purpose!” You picked it up and thrust it at him. He ignored it and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“But I’m blind. How am I supposed to know where it is?” 

You raised an eyebrow, not fooled. “The same way you find the bowl even after I move it.”

Matt shrugged. “Fair point. But if I used the spoon, I couldn’t do this.” He stuck his finger in the bowl again.

“Matthew, I swear to—”

He stuck his finger in your mouth, not far but enough for the batter to touch your tongue, before he pulled away.

“—God,” you couldn’t help but finish as the first notes of the batter processed. Brow furrowed, you focused on the taste, brushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to make it last while you sorted out the different flavors. It was…

“That’s amazing,” you said, stunned. “What did you put in there?” You pulled the bowl toward you, forgetting the spoon in your hand as you dipped in a finger from the other. It wasn’t what you were trying to make at all, and you needed another sample.

“I tried telling you it just needed a few extra ingredients.” Before you could stick your finger in your mouth, Matt took your hand, wrapping his lips around your batter-covered finger. His tongue lapped gently against the pad, almost teasing. “Now it’s perfect,” he said when he pulled away.

“I think I need you in the kitchen more often,” you said, wheels already turning in your mind.

Matt beamed at you and tried leaning in for a kiss. You, however, didn’t notice and stepped away to find your phone, leaving him confused.

You opened your notes app and said, “Quick, tell me what you did before you forget.”

Matt could only shake his head in amusement before he dutifully listed everything he had snuck into the batter.

[g0kotta]

Hunger

Dabi never got over the hungry feeling scratching inside of his body - itching to get out. Flowing in his blood. Seeping out of his pores. The anger - the obsession. You had to be his. (aka Dabi’s childhood best friend becomes a hero and he realises that his feelings never left).

Yandere-ish? Dabi x reader (no gender specified). This is like 600-700 words, so it’s just an idea I had. Might turn it into a longer fic later? This also might not be too realistic since I dropped mha a long time ago

(y/h/n) - your hero name

The bar is empty. The untouched whiskey glasses that sat on top of the cupboards - covered in a thick layer of dust. It’s quiet and the loudest noise in the room is coming from a clock which stayed hung in the corner of the leagues hideout. Shigaraki had left a while ago, probably to run away from the real problems for a few hours and play a few sessions of the game he was overly obsessed with. The others (which were seen on more rare occasions in the bar - unless it had to do something with the meetings) were gone at this hours.

The people that spent most time there, were Dabi and Shigaraki themselves (with the exception of Kurogiri, as he served as the bartender of this lonely bar).

Dabi lets out a sigh as he tilts his head backwards, the staples digging into his skin and he clenches his jaw. An uncomfortable feeling which he was more than used to after all these years. One of the few clean glasses was snug in his palm, no longer cold as the ice had melted a while ago. He slowly lifts it up to his lips and as the the chipped rim touches his bottom lip, he downs whatever mixture of melted ice and shitty cheap whiskey runs down his throat. He grimaces a bit, but shakes off the feeling of disgust. It was better than it had been before. At least now he has where to stay - a roof over his head. And now there’s other people around him too. He’s no longer alone. He sneers in his mind. He’s no longer alone. He needs to be alone. He doesn’t need the help of others to finally get revenge on the man he had to call a father. He tips his head to the front and puts the glass down, rougher than intended. It slams onto the table, filling the room with a loud bang for a second. The same hand reaches for the remote next to it and clicks on the first button it touches. He needs to fill the silence before it drives him completely mad.

But what he doesn’t expect to see is a familiar face. But it’s not a face that causes an unpleasant feeling to seep into his bones. No. It’s quite the opposite. His lips twitch as a small smirk forms on his face, his eyebrows raise in amusement. Finally. Something interesting.

“A new pro-hero is climbing up the ranks. In just a few months, the incredible (y/h/n) has reached the top five.” A woman with dark curly hair, smiles and pictures are displayed on the screen. Your pictures. “The people have been head over heels for the new young hero! The new generation of youth-“ she continues talking, but Dabi blocks out her voice.

You became a hero. You had chosen to continue the path that the both of you had to walk through. You continued the dream that Dabi had buried years ago, with Touya. His finger starts tapping the wooden bar top as a low, rumbling chuckle slips past his lips. He leans forward and rests his face on his palm. A small spark sets off in the inside of his body. A desire.. No. A need. Dabi needs to have you. You’re the only one that can bring some familiarity back into his life that has been longing, without even realising it. The sound of a chair scraping the floor echoes in the room and Dabi slowly walks out of the building of the hideout, the TV still playing in the background. He realises that he never got over the hungry feeling scratching inside of his body - itching to get out. Flowing in his blood. Seeping out of his pores. The anger - the obsession. You had to be his. One way or another, you’ll be laying in his arms soon enough.

He’ll make sure of it.

[ddodol]

all the ways — o.sr

one shot ⭑.ᐟ synopsis⭑.ᐟ you pick up your younger brother, anton, at kindergarten once and now the cute teacher thinks you're anton's mother. word count⭑.ᐟ 2.5k+

a/n; i know unruly child anton seems unrealistic but this is an au !! i think unruly child anton is funnyy

✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ all the ways — wet ]

“oh, you must be anton’s mom,” the kind looking man in front of you smiled while your younger brother snickered from behind him.

mom?

you glared at anton, hiding behind his teacher as he played with his toys. you cleared your throat, straightening up as you smiled back at the guy, “um, is that what anton told you?” he looked confused for a bit, glancing between you and anton. “a-are you not? you two look alike, i just assumed,” he scratched his head, shyly smiling at you.

”taro! my mom’s picking me up! bye bye!” some kid shouted loudly, waving his arms at the guy next to you. “take care, sungchan!” he waved back, smiling just as widely. you couldn’t help but think that being a kindergarten teacher suited him so much, just by looking at his adorable smile and kind features.

“you let them call you by your nickname?” you asked curiously and he just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “some of the kids stumble over my name, so i just let them call me taro,” he smiles at you, inviting you inside the classroom. you take a seat by one of the small chairs, noticing how anton was trudging along.

“oh, i’m shotaro by the way.” you smile at him, nodding. “i’m y/n, anton’s sister.” shotaro stared at you for a bit, as if he was relieved that you weren’t married or secretly anton’s step-mom. you tilt your head slightly and he shakes his head, plastering his usual smile as he looked at you.

shotaro took out some papers, “so about anton,” you peek at the papers he showed you— it was filled with undecipherable letters in shapes that you just assumed were korean. “is this… my brother’s handwriting?” your tone audibly dropped, in complete disbelief that your brother cannot write for shit.

”well, they’re not that bad if you know what to look for,” shotaro mumbled, staring at the doodles anton made on the paper. anton also looks at the papers, exclaiming as he pointed at one of the writings on the top part, “this spells my name!” you look at where he was pointing, it wasn’t even a word. “toni, if i call you that, chairs in this classroom might start floating.” anton frowns at you, still insisting on his spelling, “an! ton!”

”toni, you have a korean name,” you mumbled, pulling him in to calm him down. shotaro couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange. you look at him apologetically, somewhat embarrassed that anton was acting up like this. he was usually a well-natured kid, well, unless it was with you.

”i’m so sorry about my brother, he’s a bit… annoying, to put it simply,” you let out a huff when anton playfully pulled on your arm. shotaro laughs, shaking his head, “it’s alright, i understand.” his gaze lingers towards you for a bit too long that you begin to blush. you clear your throat, making shotaro fiddle with the papers he was holding, ears visibly red.

shotaro looks back up at you, “so, um, i was thinking,” he glances over at anton, “since anton’s still a bit young, tutoring him about spelling would be beneficial as he grows up. a few of the kids have this problem too, but anton’s case is… a bit peculiar.” you close your eyes in embarrassment, wanting to just disappear in this moment.

you let out a sigh, “is there something we need to sign-up for? extra classes maybe?” shotaro shakes his head, smiling at you, “no, nothing like that! actually, i’m bringing this up to you because anton asked me to personally teach him.”

you tilt your head, “anton did?” he laughs a little, scratching his neck, “well, he did promise he was going to bring his mom too, though you ended up coming instead. if this decision is too much for you to make alone, i can wait. although you’re also free to decline, it’s completely up to you.” you blinked at him, shotaro was a bit too kind.

”did anton bully you into this?” you whispered, frowning in concern. shotaro shakes his hands around, “no, no! i’ve just seen how enthusiastic he was to learn when we had a spelling class for the first time last week.” you ponder for a bit, looking at your unruly younger brother. anton was never that interested in learning new things but if shotaro said that he was, then who were you to take this away from him?

you nodded, smiling at shotaro, “if my brother really wants to, then i don’t think it’d be too bad.” anton jumped up and down, hitting your thighs playfully. you clench your jaw, wanting to keep your composure in front of the cute kindergarten teacher.

shotaro smiled back, seemingly just as excited as anton was, “about the arrangement, would it be more comfortable to have them here until, let’s say, five in the afternoon? if not, i also don’t mind coming over to teach him.”

”house! house!” anton chanted annoyingly, jumping up in between you and shotaro as he shook your wrists. you glare at him, still maintaining your smile, “well, if anton wants it at home. also, i think it’d be safer that way since anton walks home alone.” shotaro nods at this, chuckling as anton settled down, “then, would it be alright if we start next week?”

”sure!” you smiled at shotaro.

one thing you forgot to mention was that you shared the same room as anton, so you couldn’t even describe the surprise you had when shotaro walked in your room while you were in the middle of changing your clothes.

it was the first day of shotaro tutoring poor anton, so you wanted to look presentable. your parents were conveniently out of town so it was up to you to entertain your guest, and anton if he really wanted to be included.

you and shotaro stared at each other for a second, his quick reflexes kicking in and shutting the door immediately. ”where’s yn?” you could hear anton’s annoying voice from the hallway as you scrambled around to get dressed. “stupid toni, stupid younger brother!” you cried quietly, running back to the bathroom to lock yourself in.

”um, i think your sister’s inside,” shotaro explained kindly, his ears bright red as he patted anton’s head. anton boldly opened the door before shotaro could even stop him. he looked around, “she’s not here?” he muttered to himself. shotaro noticed that the bathroom door was closed, naturally assuming that you were inside.

anton pulled shotaro inside, “i-isn’t this your sister’s room?” anton frowned, shaking his head. “we share the same room.” shotaro froze at the new information, simply letting anton sit him down a chair as he dragged another chair by the desk. the room smelled too much like you for it to be a shared room.

shotaro’s eyes wandered around, seeing a few of your stuff laying around, immediately looking away in case he sees something else. “should we start?” shotaro smiled tiredly, letting out a small sigh at how exhausted he felt already.

you managed to sneak out, catching a glimpse of shotaro teaching anton. like shotaro said, anton was extremely focused in what he was saying and even if you couldn’t see how anton was doing, you could just tell by the way shotaro’s voice went up as he spoke. “good job, anton!” was the phrase you heard the most that day, you could almost imagine the cute smile anton had on his face.

a few hours passed and anton’s tutoring session was over soon. you tried your best to cook up some dinner, somewhat proud of the scent emanating throughout the kitchen after you were done. you heard footsteps by the hallway, turning around to see shotaro holding his bag. “that smells nice,” he mutters, slowly approaching you.

you flash him a small smile, “would you like to have dinner here?” shotaro points at himself, awkwardly looking around before smiling back at you, “i-if you insist, then i’d be glad to.” you turned away, hiding the huge smile on your face as you begin to set up the table.

you spent dinner with shotaro alone, since anton fell asleep immediately after everything he learned. your conversation with shotaro was pleasant, and he never brought up the earlier incident. the more you knew about shotaro, the more amazed you become.

“so you studied our language all by yourself?” you couldn’t even hide your shock, making him giggle at your reaction. he nods, “it wasn’t as hard since i already lived here for quite some time. i just thought of it as a necessity for survival, next thing i know i'm teaching a bunch of kids,” shotaro shrugs as if it was nothing. you were in complete awe, finding him even more fascinating by the minute.

shotaro smiles at you, “i saw the notes in your desk, you’re also studying to be a teacher?” you blushed, your notes were always messy and the fact that shotaro saw them was embarrassing. “i’m sorry for disgracing your eyes with my notes!” you bow your head, closing your eyes shut as the sound of his laughter echoed in your ears. he had such a cute laugh.

”no, no! i like the way you took notes, it had all the information needed while also keeping it concise,” you look back up at him, blushing at the smile he had on his face as he stared at you. “t-thanks, that means a lot,” you mumbled shyly as shotaro chuckled at you.

“i’m guessing you’re taking the exam this year?” you nod at his question. “i also want to be a kindergarten teacher, but i feel like it’d be too tiring and teaching positions in higher levels have higher pay, even if it’s just a small difference,” you had a small pout on your lips.

shotaro lets out a hum as he listened to you, “why not?” you look at him with wide eyes, “what?” he laughs, “i mean, it’s a nice way to build up your portfolio while also warming yourself up to the world of teaching. if you make a mistake while teaching high schoolers or college students, it’d be harder on you.” you bite your lip, shotaro was right. you knew the world can be a cruel place.

”then, if i pass the exam, can i apply to your workplace?” you asked playfully, not expecting such a genuine answer from shotaro. “i’d love that, actually,” he stares at you with a smile, making you feel more flustered than you expected. you immediately look away, “it’d be easier for you since you have someone you know.”

you didn’t know why you felt disappointed when he added that, perhaps you were expecting him to like you just as you had this little admiration for him. you shifted around awkwardly, still not looking at shotaro.

”though, if i were being honest, it’s just a nice excuse to see you all the time.”

”what?” you snapped your head at him, noticing the blush on his cheeks and ears as he smiled at you. “anton’s doing a bit too well, i already told him i’ll only be teaching him for a week.” you felt sad at this new information, not having another reason to keep seeing shotaro.

you played with your hands, “t-then,” you cleared your throat, reaching your hand out at shotaro. he stared at you with a confused expression, placing his hand on yours. you laughed, shaking your head, “your phone.” shotaro quickly takes his hand back, digging through his pocket to give you his phone after he unlocks it.

with a playful smile on your lips, you input your number in his contacts, handing it back to shotaro. he stares at the name you saved yourself as, giggling adorably, “mine?” you smiled shyly, glad that he was taking your small attempt at flirting so well.

shotaro grinned widely, “is that permission to call you mine?” you were taken aback by his sudden boldness, blushing profusely as you look at him. “i-if you really want to!” you squeaked out a reply, too heated to think of anything proper to say. he laughs at your reply, eyes adorably disappearing as he smiled at you.

”what do you think about saturday afternoon?”

”yes?” you blink repeatedly, unsure if you even heard him correctly. saturday was literally three days away. “o-oh, is this about anton’s lessons?” you try not to sound disappointed as you keep your expectations at bay.

shotaro leans in, smiling teasingly, “it’s a date, yn.” you turn completely red at the nickname, “j-just us?” you ask quietly, still trying not to get ahead of yourself. there was no way shotaro was interested in you like that, you two would probably go around libraries just so he could help you with your exam or go outside with anton.

”just you and me,” shotaro grins at you, “no one else— a proper date.” you nod shyly, trying your hardest not to squeal out loud.

“i-it’s getting late,” you mutter quietly after seeing how dark it was outside. “oh, that’s true,” shotaro stands up and takes his bag, you immediately follow him. it was getting late and you had no idea where shotaro lived, he might miss a few trains or buses if he stays any longer— even though you desperately wanted him to.

the two of you stood by the front door and shotaro looks at you one last time, chewing on his lip as he bites back a smile. “is it okay if i kiss you?” he asks meekly, even though he’s left you completely speechless.

”k-kiss?” you squeaked out, wanting to say yes so badly. shotaro chuckles, “just the cheek, only if you don’t mind,” he cocks his head, waiting for your reply as you squirm around adorably.

you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation. shotaro tries not to laugh at how cute you looked, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. you open your eyes to see him inches away from you, huge eyes staring into yours. he was so cute and he smelled so nice.

shotaro pulled away, still smiling widely, “i feel like i shouldn’t pull any punches with you, or else you’d misunderstand.” you didn’t quite know how to take his words but you assumed he was serious with his intentions, nodding wordlessly as he chuckles. “i’ll see you on saturday.”

watching shotaro leave was genuinely one of the saddest things you’ve gone through this week. you find yourself wishing you had a backbone so you could flirt back, but then again seeing him smile so widely at your reactions was a good thing by itself.

”are you two dating?”

you whip your head to see anton standing behind you, sleepily rubbing his eyes. “wh-what?” you stare at him, walking around the kitchen for food. “i already knew taro liked you, but i didn’t expect you to like him back so fast.”

the words that came out of your little brother’s mouth made you freeze in place. did anton just set you up with his teacher?

anton glances at you, “i saw him staring at you when i showed him a picture of me from our vacation last summer.” you frowned, “so were you setting me up? with your kindergarten teacher?”

anton laughs, shaking his head, “no! if anything, i don’t want taro to end up with you!” you stare at your brother in shock as he stuck his tongue out at you, feeling betrayed even if he was the one that connected you with shotaro.

”you better put in a good word on my behalf or else—” ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

[hexenmond]

dividers in fanfiction: experimenting with screen readers

So I wrote up this tutorial on pretty AND accessible dividers for fanfiction (focusing on AO3, but this goes for every piece of text on the internet that has a divider somewhere). I confidently proclaimed that using an hr element instead of some random characters is the better way to do it, to accommodate screen reader users – but I had never actually tried it for myself.

I wanted to remedy that and took some time to experiment with a screen reader (Orca, because that was easiest for me to get my hands on). Setting that up was actually a bit of a hassle, so I captured the audio output to post it here, and you can hear for yourself what I'm talking about without having to bother with technology and then you can make up your mind about how you want to handle dividers in your own works.

I picked three pieces of fanfiction on AO3 that I knew off the top of my head had characters as dividers in them (because I love them! so much!!), selected a bit of text with the divider in the middle, and had Orca read it out to me. Here are the results:

Example #1: simple dreams of comfort by softestpunk

I tried this one first, and it confirmed my guess: the screen reader simply reads out the characters as it can't tell what they're supposed to mean.

Example #2: Pretending! Unless… by Aria_Lerendeair

This was up next, same thing in principle. Here I also found out that empty paragraphs are a little bit unwieldy if I wanted Orca to read the selected text. And also I was starting to get used to the voice by now.

Example #3: Tower and Rose by Moorishflower

Same thing, Orca reads "plusplusplus". As a bonus I discovered what happens when there is a full stop missing (did you catch it?). And this was also when I realised that I really could get used to that objectively awful reading voice. Like, if my other options were more tiring, or I had none? I'd probably try different readers, and I'd spend a lot of time tweaking the settings (there are SO MANY SETTINGS), and then I'd enjoy my favourite fics anyway.

And how does an actual hr divider get read?

Orca by default reads it as "separator". Which is not all that great either in my opinion, BUT I could teach it to just read it as a three second pause. Or make it say "skip" or whatever I like. That would be fairly easy to do, but teaching it how to read every random string of characters – not so much.

So, bottom line? It's less problematic than I thought. Sure, "asteriskasteriskasterisk" in the middle of a story doesn't sound nice. But I could get used to that meaning "separator". Brains are flexible like that. It does increase cognitive load a little, but not that badly I think. (Cognitive load is useful a concept, I'll write more about that soon.)

If you have published on AO3 and you'd like to convert to hr elements in your works (those can also be styled to look very nice!), I wrote a step by step tutorial on how to safely and easily replace the random characters with hr elements. If you use it, let me know how it worked for you! Constructive criticism very welcome 🙃

Oh and: I actually made a cool tool that lets you push sliders around instead of fiddling with code! Go ahead and design some lovely dividers for yourself. No CSS skills required, just copypaste the resulting code into your work skin!

@softest-punk, @aria-lerendeair, @moorishflower:

I hope this does not make you feel put on the spot (not at all my intention), but maybe rather a little flattered as I really did know those three fics sufficiently well to remember they had different strings of text as dividers. It's not quite the same as someone making fanart but… right now I'm just loads better at coding than at drawing. So, do with this possibly newfound knowledge as you will! And also whenever you will, I imagine you've all JUST come out the other end of Dreamling Week, phew… I am writing this with much love for you and your fics 🥰🥰🥰

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

putting my prediction on record now that the coming decade is going to see the rise of viral-marketed fancy at-home water filtration systems, driving and driven by a drastic reduction in the quality of U.S. tap water (given that we are in a 'replacement era' where our current infrastructure is reaching the end of its lifespan--but isn't being replaced). also guessing that by the 2030s access to drinkable tap water will be a mainstream class issue, with low-income & unstably housed people increasingly forced to rely on expensive bottled water when they can't afford the up-front cost of at-home filtration--and with this being portrayed in media as a "moral failing" and short-sighted "choice," rather than a basic failure of our political & economic systems. really hope i'm just being alarmist, but plenty of this already happens in other countries, and the U.S. is in a state of decline, so. here's praying this post ages into irrelevance. timestamped April 2023

[astrobei]

every byler creator who has ever felt unappreciated or has never seen their work on a rec list or has stayed awake for hours working on something for it to get no interaction or has had their work passed up in favor of the big fandom favorites or has never been taken a chance on or has ever come last in a poll they didn’t ask to be on or has felt self conscious about posting or about calling themselves a creator if what they’re posting is not a magnum opus or has created something for themselves and still hoped deep down that people would love it: get behind me. i’ll protect u

[vote2]

the fact that indeed still doesnt have a way to say 'i don't have a bachelor's degree do not show me jobs labeled as needing a bachelor's at all' is soooo crazy to me

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

Man my heart really goes out for Billy...

I went back to watching Young Sheldon’s recent episode to see Missy and Mandy bond, but wound up appreciating and loving Billy and Sheldon’s friendship instead. I was afraid that it would have Sheldon bashing Billy and being a complete and utter ass as he tends to be when it comes to people with a lower IQ than him.

But instead in his role as teacher, he was patient and even nice to Billy, withholding any smart ass remarks and just working with how Billy thinks and it was fucking amazing to watch, while I was also amused by Billy’s silly remarks and connections he made when it came to math and his own life. That boy is just so silly.

It was a really great episode. The last remark about how Billy finally did pass the 6th grade but stayed in 7th for several years kind of ruined it for me...it implied that Billy never got the help he needed, and the biggest help he got was Sheldon which in some ways might make sense, I mean to me. Both of them seem to be coming from the autism spectrum though Sheldon is obviously from the higher end...what’s more it also showcased that Billy may not be all that dumb at all but rather he think very differently, literally. It’s likely the reason he fails is due to people around him not understanding him. While Sheldon does seem to think Billy is well stupid, he does take everything Billy say seriously whereas many others seem to dismiss everything Billy says. And what do you know, Billy actually outsmarts...in a way...Sheldon in this episode by posing the question of zero’s actual existence. I absolutely loved this show you have no idea!

For a moment, I thought the only reason I’d be watching Young Sheldon would be for the rest of the family, that Sheldon himself had come to be the worst thing about this show.

But this week’s episode proved me wrong. Sheldon truly is the best thing when the writers write him as endearing as he was in S1-3 of Big Bang and at times throughout the show... I think what makes Sheldon shine is when he is interacting with people who different to him and make him see things in different perspectives. This is probably why he was a whatdoyoucallit? Break-out character? 

The main protagonist of Big Bang Theory was Leonard. I will always stand by that, but Sheldon ended up outshining him because of how quirky, odd and unique he was, and how that melded well with the rest of the cast. All of his interactions with the cast had chemistry and were entertaining to say the least because of how unique his personality was and how it clashed and battled, or melded and worked with the others.

That being said, this is probably why his interaction with Billy was the best. Billy is from the other side of the spectrum so seeing two people who are so different and yet alike interact along with the intellectual philosophy melded in was just wonderful. It was also great to see Linkletter and Sturgis being put in along the ride, how they took Sheldon’s word that zero didn’t exist and tried to disprove it only to wound up nauseous realizing he was right. I absolutely loved this episode!

[rivilu]

see i'm not even opposed to the concept of canon/trickster Ellu surviving but the thing is in order for it to happen there would need to be a second vulnerable conversation regarding his side of things. where he couldn't lie his way out of it either. So basically he's fucked

[prans-micellar-water]

to knowis to be loved and to be known is to b eloved. I want transgender friends who will know me and love me in a way that cis people usually do not

[fairuzfan]

Is there anything I can do to help Palestinians besides call my representatives and beg them to stop killing people?

This is a great question. There are a few things you can do—just off the top of my head:

BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) https://bdsmovement.net/

Direct Action https://www.palestineaction.org/

Urge your University/School/Organization to put out a statement denouncing Israel

Organize a Protest/Participate in a local one

You might already be doing this but while calling your reps, tell them that as a voter, you're unwilling to support them in the upcoming election unless they urge the White House to take a stand against Israel and stop funding them

Share art/writing/films around Palestinian culture

If you're part of a union, ask them what they're doing to urge their industry leaders to take a stand against Israel + pressure the White House OR urge them to start a strike/walkout/etc if they're not doing anything already

Talk with your friends IRL about Palestine, whether in an activist capacity or watching a movie or literally anything

Reach out to a mosque to see if you can help them with anything

See if your city/state council has put out a statement in support of Gazans. If not, try to push them to do so.

Donate to Palestine Legal or Direct Action if you have some money to spare

KEEP TALKING ON SOCIAL MEDIA!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know some of these don't feel like they have as big of an impact on helping Palestinians, but we do need to make an effort not to forget their humanity in the face of continued erasure and the media's sensationalist rhetoric.

Talking on social media and posting—while not seeming like a lot—does SO much. I know in USAmerica, it's like yelling into a void, but political analysts are saying that most of the "Global South" has completely lost any amount of goodwill it may have had the past few years. Hopefully, countries will start to put sanctions and embargoes en masse on the US and Israel soon.

Our goals here are BOTH short-term and long-term. We hope for the life and liberation of the Palestinian people, so anything that you can think of might help at some point in the future is encouraged to at least try.

If anyone else has any more ideas, feel free to reblog and add on. Thank you for asking, and here is to a liberated Palestine where Palestinians can live and thrive without fear.

[shatterthefragments]

Reason 10million I should be able to get top surgery: I could wear my overall dress or overalls without being told to put a shirt on. (I was going to put a shirt on at some point anyway)

(Read the tags for how I’m currently distracting myself by thinking Happy Thoughts)

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[fingertipsmp3]

The class went better and worse than I expected