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cookinguptales · 1 year

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You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

#I guess it did save me a lot of money #I'll still probably go up to nyc to visit with friends for my bday but I won't go all the way out to brooklyn for the show #and I probably won't need to get the hotel room #and I DEFINITELY won't be supporting their patreon like I was planning lmao #I'll buy myself a new tarot deck for my birthday instead #cw:#disability #ableism

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thefrogdalorian · 5 months

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Always

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1588 Rating: General Summary: You wake up from an incredibly distressing nightmare in which Din and Grogu had suddenly vanished from your life without a trace. Fortunately, Din is there to console you with his comforting embrace and soothing words. He leaves you feeling optimistic about the future, rather than dreading what lies ahead for the pair of you. Content Warnings: Reader has a nightmare and panic attack! Author's Note: I opened up Google Docs and started churning this baby out minutes after the movie announcement yesterday. Until I see confirmation season 4 is in production I'll be spiralling that the show as we know it has ended, despite how excited I am to see Clan Mudhorn on the big screen!! I just needed to write this for some comfort for myself, but I really hope you enjoyed it too.

My Masterlist

Read on AO3

The presence of a large hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you, awakened you from the torturous visions that had overtaken your consciousness while you were sleeping. The nightmare had rocked you to your core, but the warm touch of Din’s hand on your shoulder brought you back from that terrible place that your mind had taken you to. Only seconds ago, you had been experiencing a hauntingly realistic nightmare where Din had disappeared from your life without a trace.

In the terrifying scene your mind had created, you arrived back – after running some errands in the centre of town – at the small cabin the two of you shared with Grogu on Nevarro to find it empty. The cabin was achingly quiet and still as you approached. There was no light, laughter or love; you had felt the bile rise in your throat at the realisation that all evidence of Din and Grogu’s existence had been inexplicably wiped from your life.

The numerous colourful drawings Grogu had created of your Clan of Three, usually pinned to the door of the cooling chamber with magnets, had vanished. As had the toys that were carelessly strewn across the rug in the main living area of the cabin – despite how frequently Din nagged the cheeky little boy to pick them up.

The ghosts of memories danced around you, haunting as you searched every inch of the desolate cabin for any explanation for their absence. The couch where you had often cuddled up with Din, feeling so warm and safe in his arms, was now heartbreakingly empty. But nothing had prepared you for the devastation you felt when you walked into the room you shared together with Din to find the assortment of shelves that he carefully stacked his Beskar armour and helmet on every night, after meticulously polishing them, lay completely empty.

At the sight of that, you knew something was seriously wrong. The armour was a second skin to Din, a part of his body; an extension of his person even when he was not wearing it. Without that it was as though he had somehow been erased, as though he had never existed in the first place. Din Djarin appeared to be nothing more than a figment of your imagination. You had shouted and screamed their names at the top of your lungs as you paced through the cabin, your voice growing more frantic with each passing second. But it was to no avail; it was as though Din and Grogu were never a part of your life. Their presence had abruptly vanished without warning or explanation.

Fortunately, Din's gentle, careful touch on your shoulder had roused you from the terrifying visions that had haunted you in slumber. As you lay there, a sheen of sweat growing cold across your forehead, your eyes took a second to adjust to the darkness. When they eventually did, the first thing that came into focus in your vision was the sight of Din peering down at you, his warm brown eyes full of concern.

It was a sight that instantly soothed your soul, but the rich, gravelly baritone of his voice reverberating through the night to console you calmed your shaken body and mind even further.

“It was just a dream, I’m here,” Din said calmly as he held your chin gently in one hand. “You’re safe, cyare. It was only a dream. I’m right here with you.”

“Din?” You murmured, feeling as hot tears scorched a path down your cheeks as you sat up to face him.

“I’ve got you,” Din said as he gathered you to him, his strong arms encircling your body protectively, his chin resting on top of your head.

“I thought… I thought you’d left,” You forced out between sobs. “I came back to the cabin and you’d… you were gone, Din…”

“I would never leave you,” Din asserted. He snapped his head up where it rested on your scalp and held you away from him, shaking his head as though disgusted by the notion. “I’ve got you, I’m right here by your side, always. I’m never leaving you, cyare, You know that, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly. “It was so real, though,” You choked, “It really felt as though you had left me forever, without even saying goodbye.”

“I would never leave you like that," Din said earnestly. "There is no reality where I would ever do such a thing."

Despite the conviction in Din’s voice, you remained unconvinced. The nightmare you had just woken up from had sewn seeds of doubt in your mind. Din led a dangerous life, after all. You had been under no illusions about that fact when you had met him. You knew that there were multiple reasons he might end up injured, or worse, during the course of one of his various jobs with the New Republic.

“But what if something happens to you one day and you’re taken away from me. Oh, Din, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” You whispered, feeling utterly shattered by the emotions you were currently experiencing.

“That’s not going to happen, cyare. I’ve made it this far, even after all the binds I’ve found myself in over the years. I think I’m pretty good at making it out alive, don’t you?” Din said, his tone light in an attempt to cheer you up, before he placed an achingly soft kiss on your forehead. But despite his gentle gesture, your anguished mind continued its journey to the worst possible conclusions.

“It’s not about how skilled you are, Din!” You exclaimed, a little harsher than you intended. You were spiralling now, frantically gulping air into your lungs to get the words out as your mind raced. “We don’t know what’s out there… the galaxy, there are so many threats. What about Thrawn and–”

“Shhh, shhhh, cyare. Please… that dark place in your mind with all of your worst fears… don’t go there,” Din said as his arms squeezed your waist tightly, before he reached for the back of your head and brought you against his warm, firm chest.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, regaining your composure as your shaky sobs grew more infrequent and then eventually stopped. Then you drew your head back, looking up into the handsome, sympathetic face of the man you loved so deeply.

“I’m sorry, Din,” You whispered, shaking your head in frustration at how you had let your emotions get the better of you.

“You don’t need to apologise to me,” Din whispered, cupping your jaw and smiling softly at you, relieved that you had finally stopped sobbing and could manage making eye contact with him.

“I just can’t imagine my life without you,” You sighed.

“Well, don’t imagine that, cyare,” Din pleaded, his voice firm but quiet, as he added: “Don’t borrow grief from the future.”

You felt your eyes water at such beautiful words. It was a poignant way to relate to the uncertainty about what lay ahead in yours and Din’s lives. The Mandalorian you loved occasionally delivered such profound quotes that you felt almost overwhelmed by the depth and weight that his words carried. You just stared at him, completely awestruck.

Din’s perceptiveness of the world around him, with his analytical mind and how well he managed to articulate himself, filled you with such a deep sense of wonder that it was difficult to suppress the tears you had only just managed to halt.

“I won’t, Din,” You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “I promise.”

“You know I will never truly leave you,” Din whispered. “Even if something terrible were ever to happen, I’d find a way to be with you again. Wherever we go after all this ends, I’ll be with you. Do you believe that?”

“Of course, I do, Din,” You nodded, hoping you managed to convey the certainty with which you believed his vow.

You knew that once Din Djarin set his mind to something, anyone who threatened to drive a wedge between him and that objective would curse the day they made such an unwise decision.

"Good. I'm not going anywhere, cyare. I'll be with you, always,” Din said as he stroked your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs, before leaning in to kiss your forehead softly. You closed your eyes and sighed at the contact, the emotion of the moment took your breath away. “Are you ready to get comfortable and try to get some more rest? I expect we’ll be able to manage a few more hours before the little womp rat bursts his way in here to wake us up.”

“Yes, Din,” You giggled at the affectionate nickname Din had for his son. The love you both held for that little boy was boundless.

Din lay back down on the cot and you rested your cheek on his bare chest, feeling instantly soothed at the skin-to-skin contact and the rhythmic beats of his heart.

In the harrowing nightmare that had left you so devastated, Din had left you all alone. He had been taken from you abruptly by forces unknown. But as you lay there, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you listened to the faint thundering emanating from deep below in his chest… Din was very much by your side. You sighed, a small smile ghosting across your features.

You knew with absolute certainty that despite whatever forces conspired against you, in this galaxy or any, Din Djarin would be with you… always.

#my fics #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian fanfiction #when people say fanfic is self indulgent YEAH they're talking about this sjhg wrote this for me but i hope others enjoy #save me din djarin...... din djarin save me..... save me din djarin...#din djarin fluff

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bad268 · 5 months

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heyy, could you write some kimi antonelli comfort? like, reader gets a bad grade or smth, idk, just some light and cute fluff

Any Time, Any Where (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (In honor of me failing my final, please enjoy this lol)

Warnings: Failing a test

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 764

Summary: After failing their final, the reader seeks comfort from their boyfriend, Kimi.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/F2 announcement article)

You studied so hard for that test. You really did. You prepared so much for this test, looked over the class notes, did the practice tests, and even went to the professor’s office hours for extra help. You really worked your butt off for that final exam. You went into that test thinking that you knew every topic that could be asked.

You did not walk out that way.

It seemed like every question asked about the niche topics that you did not think would be on the test. For that reason, you did not work on memorizing those smaller topics. Honestly, you should have because this 37/100 was not what you needed this close to the end of the semester.

You were still in shock as you walked back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Kimi. You knew he would be back since he texted you that morning along with wishing you luck on the test. Clearly, none of that luck helped you, but you still appreciated his effort. Plus, you just wanted to be held by him.

You walked up the stairs to the third floor where your apartment was before stopping just in front of the door. You took a deep breath as you tried to recenter yourself before walking in. The last thing you wanted was to bring down Kimi’s mood because of your bad grade. You wanted to enjoy this short time with him before he went back on the road for post-season testing.

You finally pulled out your key and opened the door, immediately taking your shoes off and setting your bag on the counter. You turned your attention to where Kimi was moving around the kitchen. You did not really feel like talking, so you just walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning against his back.

“Oh, hi,” He chuckled, placing one of his hands on yours as he briefly looked back at you. “I didn’t even hear you come in, amore (love).”

“I tried,” you sighed, attempting to bury yourself deeper into his back, inhaling his scent as he turned around in your arms. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as he used the other to lift your head to meet his eyes. He tilted his head as if asking what was wrong. It was a face you did not see often, but you knew what he wanted to know, causing you to sigh again. “Don’t look at me like that, please.”

“Do you want to talk about it or forget it while we eat and rewatch your favorite movie?” He offered, running his hand through your hair before resting it against your neck lightly. “I made your favorite.”

“As long as I get to cuddle you, I’m in,” you chuckled quietly as you leaned into him more. He laughed with you as he swayed with you around the kitchen, knowing it was one of the things that made you feel better. He was not in a rush to do anything, and in all honesty, he did not want to let you go just yet.

~~ The next morning, you woke up still on the couch. The television was still on, but it was showing the “Are you still watching?” screen on Netflix. You remembered finishing your favorite movie and starting Sex Education (Oscar recommended it), but you could not remember much after the first episode.

Kimi was still behind you, in the same spot you remembered him being. He still had his arms tightly wound against your waist, and his face was still hidden in your neck. You tried your best to turn in his arms without waking him up, but it’s easier said than done on a small couch. It did not take long for Kimi to get jostled awake, eyes peeling open to meet yours as he let out a yawn.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, amore (love),” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the environment or startle him too much. “Grazie (Thank you) for last night, ti amo mio amato (I love you my beloved).”

“Any time, any where,” he whispered back, leaning forward to place a small kiss on your forehead. Then your cheeks. Followed by your nose. And finally your lips. He pulled back just enough to ghost his lips over your lips as he gazed into your eyes. “I will always be here to make you feel better. No matter where I am, you will always come first. I will spend forever reassuring you of that if I have to.”

~~~~~

#andrea kimi antonelli x reader #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #kimi x reader #prema racing #formula 2 x reader #f2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 2 #f2 imagine #f2 #mercedes amg petronas #mercedes amg f1 #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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604to647 · 6 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You listen to a sign from the universe and it leads you to Din.

Warnings: Some pining and then more fluff 💕 although Reader is a bit of menace as she straight up ogles Din like a piece of meat 😂, brief mention of female masturbation, reader is described as shorter than Din, first use of pet name “Pretty Bird”.

A/N: The series is slow but sometimes falling in love be like that. I pinned a series masterlist, so you can always jump to the smutty one shots that happen later in the timeline when these two are in an established relationship if you need a fix. The fact that Din boxes is 100% attributed to @djarinsbeskar's Boxer!Din AU which was the very first Din fic AU I ever read on Tumblr and remains one of my favourites and one I revisit often; making Din a former boxer/owner of a boxing gym is my small but humble homage to Rachel's genius. Also from that same AU is this piece of art from one of my favourite artists, @kate-komics that I think about often also. Thank you both for the inspiration!

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well, technically, he bought us all books.”

The whole table laughs; your friends were delighted when you handed out the books, but they’re entralled at the background story that comes with.

“And he didn’t leave you his number or anything?”

“No! Told the cashier he didn’t want to want me to feel ‘obligated’.”

“It’s okay, babe. We’ll find him,” nods Katie, whipping out her phone.

Bea starts typing on her phone as well, “Right. He said his name is Din? How do you spell that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it short for something?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know. 40s? He’s greying,” you picture Din’s soft curls and bury your face in your hands, “it looks so fucking good on him.”

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know. Not downtown.”

“Well, what does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. What do you know?”

“I know his coffee order is Ice Quad Expresso in a Venti cup with extra ice and six shots.”

“Ok, so we know he probably has a heart condition.”

Everyone bursts out laughing. Your friends have good reason to be so enthusiastic – it’s been ages since someone has caught your eye. You don’t date a lot, and that’s always been your preference. You have a picky temperament to begin with, but the truth is, you’re happy and at peace with the way your life is now after years of hard work. There simply hasn’t been room or a need for a partner, and your friends don’t push you to date (except Jen who always reminds you that there’s a guy at her firm she wants to set you up with, but even that’s more in good fun than anything). But right now, you look flushed and besotted over this stranger; positively smitten. They love it for you.

After a few minutes, no one has found anything on social media, any dating apps or Google – admittedly, there wasn’t much (anything?) to go on, but you’ve seen these girls work internet detective miracles before.

Oh well.

You sigh, “I need to get drunk and forget him. Or painfully obsess over every detail I can remember.”

And you all cheers to that.

---

Huh.

A week later on the Saturday, you’re out running errands, and you find yourself standing in front of your drycleaner which has unexpectedly closed. A handwritten sign in the window reads: “Emergency Closure. Reopening to be announced.”

The drycleaner’s is supposed to be your first stop of the day and you don’t really feel like carting your dirty clothes with you to run the rest of your errands. Moreover, you’ll need a few of the items in the coming weeks. You take out your phone to look up other drycleaners in the area when something in your mind clicks: Peli’s Drycleaning on 14th. You search it and see it actually exists, and has a pretty good rating to boot. But, it’s sort of out of your way, not really in the same area you’re in at all.

You shouldn’t go.

Should you go?

And what if you do? Do you… ask about Din? That’s weird.

But you’ve been thinking about him non-stop all week: daydreaming about his soft smile during your work commute, remembering the flex of his strong hand covering yours as you answer emails, getting lost in thoughts of his big brown eyes while out walking the dog. You flush at the memory of touching yourself in bed while recalling his deep and rich voice. Every attempt to forget your handsome Quad Ice over the past week has utterly failed.

Eff it. What are the chances that you unexpectedly need a new drycleaner, and it happens to be the only thing tangentially related to Din that you know? Maybe the universe is trying to help you out.

Before you can characteristically overthink it, you flag down a cab and give the driver the address you looked up; your heart pounds the entire ride over.

When you step into drycleaner’s, a little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival, and a short woman with a huge amount of curly dark hair appears from the back. You think she might be Peli, but you can’t be sure; she gives you a huge smile and gestures to take in your clothes. Finding her to be super friendly and chatty, the two of you make easy small talk as she neatly lists out your items by hand on her notepad. When she gets to the coffee stained skirt, she lets out a low whistle, “Oof. Been there, done that!” she quips. You decide this is probably the best opening you’ll get, “Actually, that coffee stain is probably why I’m here. Someone saw it and recommended your place.” Peli raises her eyebrow as you press on, “His name is Din, he said he’s a friend of the owner?”

This gets her attention; the woman stops what she’s doing and studies you with great interest. Her face breaks out into an impossibly wide smile and she exclaims loudly, “Din sent you, eh? And he said we were friends?” she lets out a deep belly laugh, “Babysat him when he was a kid, but yep we’re friends. Ha! Hi, I’m Peli!” She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “He said to mention his name and you would try harder not to lose my clothes,” you joke.

“That scamp!” chortles Peli, “Don’t worry! We’ll take good care of you! You know… because of Din.” She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Of course. Because of Din,” you grin back, “So…does he send a lot of… people who need drycleaning, your way?”

“Nope! You’re the first! And honestly, now that I think about it, why hasn’t he been sending me more business?”

You figure it’s now or never, “Do you know where I could find him?”

If possible, Peli brightens even more at your question, “Oh yeah, for sure! At this time of day, he’ll be at his gym. It’s about 2 blocks that way,” she points in the direction for you, “can’t miss it! Big sign that says ‘Mando’s Gym’.”

Peli finishes taking down your information for the clothes and lets you know when everything can be ready. You give her an enthusiastic thanks; when opening the door to leave, you have a moment of hesitation, but looking back, you find Peli already pointing in the direction of the gym. You give her a smiling nod and head that way.

---

Peli was right. You can’t miss the sign; it sits atop of a standalone three story building that’s set further back on its lot. The front area of the lot looks like it might have once been a driveway of sorts, but is now used as a parking lot; a handful of parked cars lets you know the gym is fairly busy today. The front of the building has giant windows that look like garage doors and makes you think that the building might have once been a mechanic repair shop; from the little of what you can see inside, you think the gym occupies the first floor of the building and possibly the second. The big set of garage door windows are separated in the middle by an entry way that you walk through, slightly nervous. Once inside, you see a reception but currently no one behind the small desk; instead, you peek around the partition wall behind the desk and see that the space opens up to a clean, spacious room that has about 8-10 people working out on various machines and punching bags lining the walls, all leading to a larger group of people clustering near the boxing ring centered at the back of the room.

You’re making your way towards the back, scanning over the group looking for Din when you spot him, right in the middle of the ring. He’s got his gloved hands up, blocking part of his head, but you can still tell it’s him; when you hear him shouting encouraging words to his sparring partner, his familiar voice sends a shiver up your spine. He’s wearing a sweat drenched grey t-shirt and his hair is messy and wet from his work out, but he looks even better than you remember.

Actually, he looks fucking delicious. From this angle you can see the cut of his jawline and how it tightens as his grunts and pants. His arms are flexed from his forearms up to his biceps, and are so muscular they’re straining hard against his shirt sleeves. You must be straight up ogling him because you don’t even realize when Din notices you; you’re too busy looking at his legs and admiring how his thighs fill out his navy blue shorts so snugly. You only look up when those same legs start walking in your direction and come to a stop at the edge of the ring. Din is leaning towards you against the rope with a heart-stopping smile, “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” you grin, repeating back his words to you from the bookstore.

Din thinks he must be dreaming, or maybe he’s been knocked in the head one too many times today. He had just paused the fight to show Jimmy the new combination again, when he looked over to see the prettiest sight. You, standing in his gym, soft and dainty, with a wide eye expression on your face. You’re looking in his direction, but when you don’t make eye contact with him immediately, Din allows himself the smug thought that you might be liking what you see and puffs his chest out a little before making his way over to you.

Now you’re looking at him with that same pretty smile that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, and he can’t wait to talk to you again, “Are you okay to wait for 5 minutes? We’re just finishing up this training session.”

You nod agreeably, “Sure, I can wait.” There’s a bench running along the right side of the ring where you take a seat to better enjoy the show. You’ve never seen boxing up close before, so you don’t know what to expect, but you find yourself mesmerized by everything Din is doing in the ring. All his movements are intentional and graceful; he’s in total control of every motion he makes: ducking, blocking, punching. His muscles are all flexed and his shirt stretches tight, barely containing them as if Din himself is an extension of the explosive power harnessed in his fists. The legs that you were drooling over earlier are quick and agile; it’s true you don’t know his age but his sparring partner looks to be in his mid-20s and Din is having no problem out maneuvering him.

As he circles the other fighter, you think you spy some ink on a flash of some exposed skin and the idea of exploring what’s underneath Din’s shirt has you swallowing hard. In short, you can’t take your eyes off of him.

The 5 minutes is action packed and over before you know it. In one continuous smooth motion, Din ducks under the rope, jumps down and grabs a fresh towel from a stack on the other end of the bench you’re sitting on before sliding over to sit next to you. He looks at you almost bashfully as he towels off his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow and neck. You think you could get used to seeing him like this: cheeks pink from exercise, bright eyes glued to yours and a grin so wide it reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek that you’re discovering for the first time. He’s taking your breath away and you haven’t even been back in his presence for more than 10 minutes.

“What brings you to this part of town today, pretty bird?”

If anyone else had bestowed a pet name on you so soon after having met, you would have immediately gotten the ick, but the endearment rolling off Din’s tongue sounds so natural and sweet, it has you melting, “Some handsome guy bought me a thick stack of books and then made it nearly impossible for me to thank him. Tracked him down to this gym.”

“Handsome guy, eh?”

“Yep. Real handsome. And sweet. You know anyone around here like that?” you tease.

Handsome. You think he’s handsome. Din thinks his heart is in danger of no longer fitting in his chest. He holds his hand up to his brow, as if to shield his eyes from the light, and mines looking around gym in an exaggerated manner, “Nope. Just a bunch of smelly, sweaty ruffians. Owner’s a handsome guy though, maybe you’re looking for him,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“You own this gym?”

“Sure do. Used to be my dad’s.”

“Well, he would be proud of you and what you’ve done here, Din. It looks great.” You mean it, and you look around the gym with a renewed sense of awe now that you know Din is the one responsible for its operations.

Din’s not sure how you knew the exact thing to say to make his heart swell, but he knows without a doubt that you’re being genuine and he is reminded again of your kind nature.

You look back to see Din looking at you with a soft expression and before you let yourself get lost in his eyes, you force yourself to pull it together, “Oh Din! I can’t believe I didn’t say this right away: Thank you!! Thank you for the books. It was so incredibly unexpected and sweet! My friends also say thank you – a few of the books you bought were for them.”

“You’re very welcome. Have you enjoyed the books?”

You’re warmed by how thoughtful Din is, and you let him know the books are turning out to be great and you and your friends can’t believe how long you’ll have to wait for the next instalment to come out.

“Do you have plans to read tonight, or would you happen to be free?”

Even though you had been hoping that Din would ask you out, your heart leaps into your throat now that it’s happening. “I think I should be! If I finish up this list of errands I’m supposed to get to today, that is. Giving Peli my drycleaning was only the first item,” you lament.

“Peli! Is that how you found me? Clever girl.”

You beam at Din’s praise. You realize you haven’t explained how you knew where he was, “As luck would have it, my regular drycleaner was unexpectedly closed. Nearly derailed my whole errand day until I remembered you mentioning you had a friend who ran a drycleaning business. Something else I need to thank you for.”

“I’m glad I could help. Well, if you have a bunch of errands you have to finish before you can go out with me tonight, I’m going to scoot you out of here right now so you don’t cancel. Scoot!” Din adds a silly shooing motion with his hands as he says this, so you know he’s not seriously trying to get rid of you. You giggle, but nod, eager to get on with your tasks so that your date with Din might come sooner.

Din asks you if you need a ride, but you tell him you’ll be fine and jokingly scoff, “Hey! I don’t want you putting off your work and then backing out either, mister.”

“Not a chance,” grins Din.

As you walk together towards the front of the gym, Din lets you know how much he’s been thinking about you, “I’m really glad you came to here today. I was about to camp out everyday at the coffeeshop in the morning and then that bookstore in the afternoon until I found you again.”

“Who would have looked after the gym if you did that?”

Din looks around at the gym; some of the boxers and staff that had been watching the two of you look away quickly and pretend to busy themselves to avoid being caught staring. “Shoot. This place probably would have burned down. Looks like you just saved the gym.”

You can’t help but giggle again and Din feels a growing sense of pride in being able to make you laugh. “How about tonight I take you out to dinner as a thank you?”

Giving him an incredulous look, you answer, “I should be taking you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I don’t think so, pretty bird.”

The pet name shoots straight to your core again.

Din stretches himself up to his full height and looks down at you with mock stern expression, cocking his eyebrow.

You can’t say you’re at all intimidated even though he towers over you; you’ve long since felt that Din’s company spelled safety. But to play along, you counter by looking up at him with your biggest pleading eyes. Din is instantly disarmed and knows in this moment that he will never be able to refuse you anything.

He suggests a compromise, “How about we go for dinner and fight about the check there?”

“Ok. But just so you know, I’m not used to losing,” you challenge playfully.

“Me neither.” Din tilts his head slightly to draw your attention to the wall you’re standing next to. It’s the other side of the divider wall you rounded when you came in, and you see that it’s covered with awards, certificates, and articles lauding Din’s boxing accomplishments.

Amazed, you skim over the honours and achievements, “This is you? Wow – you’re incredible Din! …9 times weight division champion? Oh man, now I don’t know if I can take you.”

“I bet you could,” from the look on Din’s face, you’re sure that the double meaning is meant as a tease, but you can’t help squirming a little.

Blushing, you relent, “Ok, you can pay for dinner. But I still have to thank you for the books.”

Din is finding your persistence on this point to be adorable, “Your ‘thanks’ is enough. No need to feel like you owe me; it was a gift.”

“I know. I just have an outrageous sense of reciprocity. I really do want to find a way to thank you somehow.” You reach up and put your hand on Din’s shoulder to hold yourself steady as you lift up onto your toes and kiss him on the cheek. Despite having just gone who knows how many rounds in the ring, he smells incredible and you can’t help but linger your lips on his cheek. You exhale softly and hold Din’s gaze as you slowly lower down to your normal height.

Din looks as affected as you feel, “Remind me to buy you some more books.”

Both of you laugh, now giddy about the prospect of seeing each other again in a few hours. You exchange numbers and Din promises to text you later with the address of the restaurant he’ll meet you at tonight.

Heading down the street, heart aflutter and fingers trembling with excitement, you take out your phone and text the group chat: I found him.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern au #no y/n

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winniethewife · 8 months

Text

Drunk on Love (Miguel x reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

I've looked for love in all the same old places Found the bottom of a bottle's always dry But when you poured out your heart, I didn't waste it 'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, alcoholism mentioned, google translate Spanish.

A/N: Final part! thanks to everyone who read it!

It would take a long time and a lot of work, But She kept her promise. She was there for every day he stayed sober, for every relapse. She was there for him in a way no one else would be, and every day she wore one of the necklaces he gave her. She would walk into his pent house or he would walk into her apartment, and his eyes would immediately look for the gold or silver chain on her neck. His hand would reach out and hold the interlocking hearts delicately in his palm and a smile would cross his face.

What they didn’t expect was that along the way, they would start to fall in love. It was little things at first. A glance across the table, him giving in to sleeping in her bed after a bender, her agreeing to sleep in the bed with him. Waking up in each other’s arms more often then they wake up alone most days. Its funny that someone else was their first to notice rather than them.

It wasn’t super uncommon to see her at HQ these days, usually to give Miguel lunch or something he “forgot” Somewhere (he needs to see her because he wants to drink), although not being a spider person herself she had a hard time navigating it alone, so more often than not she would be seen standing in the lobby waiting for Miguel to send someone to get her, or for him to come get him herself. At first he would send someone he trusted, Jess, Peter B. sometimes Ben, But eventually he’s just going on his own, he wants to see her the second she’s there. He’ll be in the middle of scolding someone and LYLA will announce her arrival and he’ll just leave to get her without a second thought.

“If you like her so much why haven’t you asked her out?” Peter B. elbowed Miguel in passing one day after she had left.

“I-What?” Miguel had looked at him like he was crazy.

“C’mon Mig. It’s obvious you two are in love. She’s totally your MJ. Don’t deny it.” Peter had given him a goofy smile and swung off before Miguel could react. Miguel thought about it the rest of the day. In love? That was…wasn’t it crazy? His MJ? He had been positive he had ruined his own canon to the point that he would never see that benefit of a spider-person’s life, falling in love. When He got back to his pent house he was anxious to ask her about it, so focused on that when he walked in he hardly noticed that she had made him his favorite dinner and that everything in the dining room was decorated. She stood with a big smile on her face.

“6 months sober Miguel!” She announced with glee “Half a year!” He had actually forgotten. He smiles as well and embraced her.

“Gracias Hermosa. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” That’s when he knew, that look in her eyes as they hugged. They were in love. Neither of them we’re quite sure how the series of events after happened but she ended up on the kitchen counter and they were kissing. She was as sweet strawberry wine, as warm as a glass of brandy, all the things he didn’t need any more he found in her. Her arms around his neck as he kissed her with all the passion and love that he could muster.

“Te Amo Bebeita.”

“Te Amo Miguel.”

It wasn’t the easiest thing to stay sober, but It was a lot easier with her in his bed every night, and it was even easier when she had a ring around her finger, and he was pretty sure Liquor was never going to pass his lips again when he held their daughter in his arms for the first time. This was everything he ever wanted. Everything he needed. He was standing over the crib late one night when his wife joined him.

“She’ll still be here in the morning, you need sleep.”

“I know, Hermosa…I just can’t get enough of her… Mija…” He reaches down and brushes her dark curls from her face. She knows she can’t argue with him as she rests her head on his arm as they both look at the small life they had created together.

Masterlist

#atsv #miguel o'hara #x reader #spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #astv miguel #last part #angst with a happy ending #Spotify

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barkspawn · 1 year

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harvey needs love!!! how abt farmer trying to get him all hot n bothered in public bc he is all shy and awk in public but gets his revenge when he takes hr home. they cn be dating or married idrc

Oh lord this took a few tries. Google scarred me. btw.

Harvey was a very private man. He knew everyone in town as their doctor and he figured that it was best if that's how it stayed.

Well, until Amelia came along and decided to make the effort to learn more. They were fast friends, sharing coffee each morning and the occasional drink at the saloon. It wasn't long before he developed feelings for her. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual.

He talked her into having her annual visit and for the first time in his entire career, he dropped his professionalism thanks to that longing look in her eyes. He had just been standing close and listening to her heart. Their eyes met and, well, the doctor's appointment ended the second their lips touched.

It certainly ran much longer than an annual physical.

Ever since, the occasional drink and morning coffee turned into them being completely inseparable. It had been so long since Harvey had a girlfriend that the word felt odd on his tongue. Still, he always kept an air of professionalism when in town or around others.

Unfortunately for him, Amelia was seeing that as more of a challenge.

The Stardew Valley fair was today and she planned on flustering the man more than she had before in an attempt to ensure a fun evening. He may be shy out in the town, but he was very much outgoing in private. It was a pleasant surprise.

He showed up at her house precisely an hour before they were meant to go to the fair. Judging by the hungry kiss she'd earned just for opening the door in only her pajama bottoms and a thin tank top, her plan today was going to be more fun and a lot easier than she had hoped.

They walked into the fair, Amelia's eyes widening as she saw just how transformed the entire town square was. Hand-in-hand, they explored, stopping every so often to watch people play some games. She forewent the fortune teller, the entire concept scaring her a little bit. Harvey had gone into the tent, leaving her outside to talk to Rasmodius. Before she knew it, she was setting up her grange display, Harvey tending to a child’s scraped knee. She stepped back to admire her setup, smiling in pride as she stood beside Marnie.

“Mar, your display looks amazing. That wheel of cheese is incredible,” she praised, already resolving to not even look at the display of fruits and vegetables that she grew displayed as Pierre’s display.

“Thank you, Amelia. It's always a lot of fun to set up,” she sighed, a small smile playing on her lips, “and given that all of these people from out of town don't know any better, they try to buy the things in the display after the winner is announced.”

Amelia laughed, the older woman shifting a little closer to speak in a lower voice, “so you and Dr. Harvey seem to be getting on well, hmm?”

Amelia couldn't help but smile and look over toward the man, who was praising the child for being so brave.

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied, not worrying about her volume. It wasn't a secret.

“Do you love him?”

Amelia almost convinced herself that she definitely misheard the woman. After a moment, she laughed, a little awkwardly.

“We've only been dating for a season… And besides, I'm not even sure I'd know if it was that instead of… Well, infatuation.”

Marnie touched her arm, smiling at Amelia, “you'll be able to tell.”

Amelia gave her thanks, turning as Harvey made his way back to her side. His smile was a little wider as he returned, bending and pressing a short, sweet kiss to her lips.

She hummed in surprise, not used to experiencing any form of public affection. She smiled brightly as both of his hands held hers, “Doctor Harvey! Kissing your girlfriend in public, what's gotten into you?” she teased, knowing that sometimes she would use the doctor title to tease him with various effects.

Maybe her little mission would be easier than she thought.

“Sorry, dear,” he laughed, brushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear, “just having a good day I guess.”

She shook her head, feigning surprise, teasing like she was reading a headline, “doctor finds his day getting better with every skinned knee.”

His eyebrows shot up, “oh, Yoba, no, that is what it seemed like, isn't it?” he let out an embarrassed laugh, “I just had a good fortune reading,” he slipped his hand into hers before starting to walk again, “I promise I'm not that bad.”

Bingo.

She stood on her toes, her lips right against his ear as she teased, “you certainly could be.” she pressed a kiss where his jaw met his ear before smiling innocently up at him. She was pleased to find his face a lovely crimson. He looked shocked, though she swore there was something behind that expression. Finally, he cleared his throat and laughed, the sound a little shaken as they walked toward the food.

“I have no idea what I'm going to do with you,” he sighed, teasing before squeezing her hand, “and I'm on to you.”

She grinned, almost too excited by her terrible jokes (that hopefully wouldn't be jokes for long).

She rests her head on his shoulder, her voice only low enough for him to hear though her expression stays innocent, “I know exactly what to do with you and it does involve being on one another, I guess. I was mainly thinking of me being on yo–”

“Amelia,” he cut her off, his voice a mix of stern and pleading, a laugh still behind it, “you know that my… resilience is not as strong as yours.”

He was still joking, which was a good sign. And it was very true. When they first kissed, it was almost primal. They were both starved for touch and couldn't get enough. She worried at first that was the only reason they went as far as they did that day in the exam room. She had never felt that way when it came to sex. It turns out the need for touch only partially grazed the surface. They really just needed someone to be there with them and for them. The sex was an added bonus.

He wasn't necessarily super strong, but she was small enough to where, with a wall, he could hold her up, losing himself in her, literally and figuratively. Still, at this point, anywhere in the farmhouse was fair game.

She smirked to herself, shaking her head. It was all like she was back in her early 20s and reliving the puppy love of her previous relationships.

Though this was different. Deeper.

Was Marnie right?

She shook off the thought and looked up at Harvey, who then shifted his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

“Wow, that fortune teller really said something to make you affectionate, huh?” she teased, her arm moving around his waist, her thumb slipping under his shirt subtly, touching the bare skin beneath and hooking into the waistband of his pants. She felt him tense before they approached the grills, pulling apart to get some burgers and exchange pleasantries with Elliott and Gus. Once they had their plates, she walked him to a picnic table that had one of those cheap plastic tablecloths on it. He gave her a curious look, smirking as she smiled innocently across the table at him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she teased, adjusting her sundress before leaning forward on the table, leaving him with a direct view of her cleavage, which he couldn't deny looking.

“Tell me, dear,” he looked back up to meet her eyes, “are you trying to,” he cleared his throat, shifting a little as someone from out of town sat at the other end of the table, “...embarrass me?”

She laughed aloud before pulling out her phone and quickly typing out a text to him, his eyebrow rising curiously:

Amelia 1:34 pm: I'm just trying to give you some hints about what I plan to do to you when we get home.

Amelia 1:34 pm: oh, and one more quick hint, dear

Amelia 1:35 pm: I'm not wearing anything at all under my dress. 😘

She hit send and placed her phone on the table, unable to hide her smile as she watched him pull his phone out. She took a bite of her burger, watching as he took his phone out and froze, reading her texts. After a long moment, he looked back up at her, eyes wide and cheeks burning.

She took advantage of his stunned silence, licking her lower lip and running her thumb over it as if she was wiping away crumbs.

Harvey shifted, leaning forward and leaning on his elbows so he could talk, his voice low, “message received loud and clear,” he watched as she laughed, her smile full of mischief as she leaned in so they were barely a foot apart, his whisper almost pleading, “now please behave. I’d rather the whole town not catch me like this.”

“Why, are you hard?” Her voice was a purr as she refused to take her eyes from his.

Harvey pulled back and looked around, worried someone might have heard. He laughed a breathy laugh, trying to play it off as if he was not flustered at all, “Amelia, what has gotten into you?”

She lifted her burger to take another bite, humming out her answer before doing so, “I was hoping you would.”

Harvey nearly choked on his drink, which he really should have known better than to take a drink right now. She stood and feigned worry, “Harv, are you alright?” he had his hand on his chest, clearing his throat before looking up at her suspiciously as she continued, “do we need to go get your inhaler from the clinic?”

She watched as his expression changed, his eyes narrowing, “I absolutely do,” his voice was laced with the tension she had built. Somehow, his voice seemed to have the effect on her that she had on him.

He leaned forward as if he were picking something up, using her to hide the fact that he even had to adjust himself. He stood, standing close before bending to press a small, firm kiss to her forehead.

“Everything I need is in exam room one,” he commented, back to his nice-town-doctor facade, “or it's about to be.”

#harvey #sdv harvey #harvey sdv #sdv #sdv fanfic #stardew valley harvey #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew #stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew harvey #oh look a one-shot #barkspawn oneshot

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ashes-writing-corner · 6 months

Text

I know, I know, I said I wasn't gonna write fanfiction in the month of November. I kinda lied.

Look season 2 of Moon Knight has been announced and I am a sucker for any and all things Oscar Isaac and the moon boys. That all being said, please enjoy this Jake Lockley and Steven Grant angst fest! If it gets enough likes/reblogs/comments, I'll do a part 2 with Marc. He was supposed to be in it but I ran out if time to write more.

TW: mention of the thought of self harm, somewhat accidental self harm, possible oocness, and probably very badly translated Spanish (yes, I used Google translate sue me....seriously don't I have nothing XD)

Perfect Little Punching Bag

Love.

Hate.

There was always such a fine line between them. Was love always so fickle? Was hate always so non linear? Not helping matters was that all too often, the two emotions blended in a painful mix for him.

It used to hurt. It used to hurt a lot…

At least Steven had been sold some kind of illusion that someone gave a rat's ass about him. Happiness based on a lie was no way to live, sure, but he had it. He believed someone cared about him, the person who was supposed to care for them the most.

The same person he was created to protect their body from: their own mother.

The two had their roles, and while they were close, they never actually met. Steven protected Marc Spector's heart, as in the center of the innermost feeling. Jake was created with no such blissful delusion. No. There was no comfort, no care for Jake Lockley. He was created to protect the physical body from all means of harm.

When Wendy screamed, he would hear without truly listening. When she whipped or beat him, he'd feel it without reacting. No. He could not, and would not, let her win. Although his young throat would burn with the urge to roar and fight back, at the time he knew he stood no chance. He would lay there in the aftermath, wide eyed, his back and everywhere else burning and welted. But she did not win.

She never won when it came to Jake. She did not see his tears. She wouldn't ever see them. And if she didn't, no one else surely would.

Where had he found his first blade again? Oh yes, he had taken it out of one of Marc's old pencil sharpeners. Jake had snagged the smallest screwdriver he could find so he could take it out. After every beating, every screaming session, when Jake felt strong enough again, he'd lift the rug in his alter's bedroom and carve another tally into the floor. Jake didn't know why he had kept track, there wasn't a point, but even now, he kept track of the many times he won, the times he cracked but never shattered. He had thought of using the blade several times on himself, but knew that would go against his purpose. Why cause more damage to a body he was supposed to defend? No, no…the floor was covered under that rug with evidence of his wrath.

Hate was an easy emotion. He was born in and from it, molded by it. If he felt it most of the time could he really call it hate? Hate at his abusive mother and enabling father. Hate at his alters for their closeness from which he was excluded. Hate at the world for molding him into this…this monster. He understood this was his lot in life, to be this hated and hateful monster, and for the longest time Jake never objected. It was his job in life and in the system. He knew his place.

But overtime, it began to slowly take its toll.

Jake was all too aware of the hole in his heart, if he could even call it that anymore. It was more than that now. A gaping, bloody maw that roared to be fed or else it would consume him. It was why he did what he did as brutally as he did it. Feed the maw, kill the pain inside. That was the deal. But no matter how much he did, or what he tried, it would come back with a vengeance eventually, angry at its suppression and hungry all over again. Longing consumed him, and icy loneliness gripped at his heart. It was bearable, but only to a certain extent. Again, it was his lot in life.

But then Marc met Layla, falling in love. Oh Jake hated him for that. Marc had the nerve, the gall, the AUDACITY to attempt to be happy while Jake rotted in the excess of HIS despair?! He could stand it when one of his alters was happy. He was okay with either Steven or Marc being happy but not both of them at the same time! How was that fair?! Even if Steven's happiness was built on illusion, he still HAD it. He felt a semblance of it, a taste of it.

But there was no such thing as that for Jake Lockley. Never. He wasn't created to be loved. He was never meant to BE happy. He was the monster Marc created for his own darker tendencies, a way for him to subdue his conscience to do his mercenary work.

Sometimes, Jake would think about trying to approach one of or maybe both of them. Jake would imagine it, talking himself up a bit, trying to think of what he would tell them, and hope that the two alters would find something in him worth accepting. But oh no Khonshu couldn't let that happen. The moon god poured poison in Jake's ear, which dripped slowly to the maw in his heart…

“Do you really think those two idiots care about you? If they did, wouldn't they have freed you in the Duat? Wouldn't they have added your heart to the scales to be weighed? Wouldn't they have gone back for you? You know exactly how they would react” Khonshu pointed out and would fill Jake's head with horrid illusions of their reactions.

Steven was always afraid of him, no matter what he tried. Marc was disgusted most of the time, and unsympathetic, like a cold and uncaring master kicking his dog. Well, a kicked dog could only take so much before lashing out, seeing enemies everywhere. The moon god had succeeded in turning Jake against the other two…

Or so he thought.

It was in a deep state of meditation that he was found. In the darkest corner of Marc Spector's mind was Jake Lockley's own personal hell, his domain. No longer in that damn sarcophagus, it was replaced with a dark room, a small closet more like, with tally marks all over the walls. Countless numbers of them. Jake couldn't keep track of them anymore.

Some ‘victories’ they were indeed.

Of the alters, it was Steven who found him first. Sweet Steven Grant with his damn heart of gold…why did it have to be him?! Sitting in that corner, wallowing in his despair, with the maw begging to be fed again. It was always so damn hungry now…

Steven looked at the wretched place, concern etched into his features. But he knew they both needed answers. Who the hell was this and what did they want? There was blood all over the floor and tally marks carved in all four walls from floor to ceiling. A shadow sat facing a corner, uncaring about the horror around him. A single light bulb on a string was the only light in that room and it was dull, fading. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Steven trembled as he approached the shadow in the corner.

“Hey…hey there, you okay?” He managed to speak out despite what he was looking at.

Jake let out something that sounded like a growl. “Salir…”. (Go away)

“I'm sorry wha-”.

“Get out…¡ahora!”. (Now!)

“Whoa! Whoa…whoa….okay! Someone is very protective of their space-”.

“Salir! No volveré a preguntar!” Jake found the small pencil sharpeners blade close by. (Get out, I won't ask again!)

Steven squinted trying to figure out what it was he was holding. “Okay first of all, English please, and second, I have no idea what that is but I'd appreciate it if you put it back. I didn't come here looking for a fight” he said, trying to keep his voice stable and somewhat gentle.

“Go away, Steven. This isn't where you belong…”.

“If I dare say it, you don't belong here either”.

Jake scoffed. “I'm a part of this too”.

“What do you-no! I meant you don't belong in here you big doofus!”.

He hardly gave any mind as he walked along the bloody floor to approach Jake, still facing the corner with the small blade in his hand. Steven felt this oddly familiar feeling with this shadow, this thing. He looked at all the tally marks, and gently brushed his hand against them.

“What are these?” Steven asked.

“Victories…” Jake answered, though he didn't dare look at him, not directly.

From his peripheral vision, however, he could see the man with a softer version of his own hardened face frown, his eyes soft with sadness, not fear. Why wasn't he afraid? Khonshu said he'd be afraid!

“Victories over what?” He asked, “cause from where I'm standing this doesn't look like victory”.

“Would you prefer if I said they were kills?” He asked in kind, keeping his tone dark, even if inside he was trembling.

The maw was quiet. Deathly so.

“No…no i think we can stick with victories for now” Steven answered and looked around nervously, unsure of what to say. He decided that skipping the limbo would probably be the best way to go.

“Are you a third one? Are you like me?” He asked.

“Podrías decirlo…” Jake replied bitterly, his hand clenching around the blade, not caring about its sharp sting. (You could say that)

Steven frowned. “I don't like the sound of that but I'm assuming that's a yes…and a very angry one. Hey…you don't have to stay here, you know that right?”.

Jake scoffed, attempting to ignore the pain in his palm. He wanted to turn the blade on Steven, to at least give him a taste of his pain. Maybe it would even piss Marc off enough to get his attention! Oh…wouldn't that be fun? Because as much as he despised and envied Steven, he absolutely hated Marc for his wretched existence. And hurting them both would feel amazing in the moment...

“This is where I belong” he answered simply.

“Who says?” Steven asked, “you don't deserve this. What's your name?”.

“It doesn't matter”.

“It matters to me, and it definitely matters to Marc-”.

Jake scoffed louder at that. “He doesn't care about me. He doesn't give a damn about me. Nadie hace…”. (No one does)

“That's not true! He just doesn't know about you! Look, if I can get us all here at the same time-”.

“Not on our life! It's bad enough you're here!”.

Steven frowned deeply at that, looking quite hurt. “You didn't want us to find you, didn't you? Why?”.

The look on the alter's face was bitter and angry. His eyes, one brown and the other a deep red, were sharp and could cut deeper than any knife. He looked so much like them and yet was so distinctively different. Something in him looked…tired. Tired and sad. Like all he wanted to do was rest.

Despite everything, deep down Jake didn't want to hurt either of them. Looking at Steven now, it made that long suppressed longing come back in small waves at first. Years of telling himself he didn't care about their approval, their “love”, came back to bite Jake in the face in the most vicious way.

He didn't hate his alters.

No, in fact, something in him loved them, which was why he still did what he was meant to do.

So no, hate wasn't what he felt.

To his surprise, Jake realized that he didn't hate them. What he felt was envy, a deep seated, rooted jealousy aimed at them. Sure there was some resentment there as well, but envy was definitely the stronger of the two. Since their excursion to the Duat, this envy had only grown, the roots taking a stronger deeper hold of Jake's heart. He was jealous of the bond they shared, even if it seemed out of whack in the beginning. When they all took down Harrow together, despite having done most of the work, he wasn't included in that victory. Since then, Jake had been a shadow on the outskirts of their peaceful life…

“A stress ball…”.

Steven looked confused. “What?”.

“You asked Marc if you were some kind of stress ball or something not too long ago…”.

Steven looked at him and squinted. “Wait…the Duat? You were there? Hold on a minute! Was that you in the other sarcophagus?! The one trying to get out?!”.

His nod hit Steven like a freight train. They had left him there. They abandoned him.

“I'm so sorry. If I'd known-”.

“Be lucky you were that. An emotional fucking stress ball. At least you were fed an illusion she cared about you”.

Steven's hurt turned right away to offense. “Excuse me?! You think I liked learning about that?! I feel like the truth-”.

“If you knew the truth you would've never survived-”.

“I survived just fine thanks! If there's something you wanna say then say-”.

With the utmost viciousness he could muster, Jake hissed back: “Te odio!”. (I hate you!)

Steven almost flinched back. He barely understood a lick of Spanish, but judging from the harshness of his tone and the anger on his face, it didn't take a genius to know what he meant. Not helping matters was the sadness in Jake's eyes. More than anger, more than bitterness or envy, he was just sad.

“I don't hate you” Steven told him, “even if you hate me” he put a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder.

Jake brushed it off, trying to keep his angry and hateful glare. Steven wasn't falling for it, as he again put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don't hate you” Steven repeated, “a little wigged out but…no, I don't hate you. I want to help you, and I know Marc does too-”.

“He. Doesn't. Care. He used me as his shield! I'm nothing to him! I'm just a…a punching bag. That's all I've ever been!” his voice broke, as his sadness took a hold, “just a perfect little stoic punching bag!”

It wasn't fair. It wasn't! He deserved to be loved, at least just a little. He deserved to have a life outside this hell his alter condemned him to. He'd do anything for it, to be more than just…well…this! He dropped the blade from his hand, hissing in pain as the cut was deeper than he thought it would be. It fell to the bloody floor with a soft clink and Steven was quick to kick it away before Jake could grab for it again. The softer alter hugged him tightly, the same one the moon god told Jake would be afraid of him, catching him entirely off guard.

“No more…none of that. It's gonna be okay. I'm here for you…I'm here” Steven hugged him tightly, a hand going through the others hair.

Jake clung to him like a man drowning, like Steven was his only support. Then it got worse: the tears came. Tears of anger, sadness, envy, and frustration, it was a horrid mess of emotions. Ones he didn't like feeling, ones the maw threatened to swallow him in. His body wracked with sobs as Steven hugged and comforted him.

“I'm so sorry…we never should've left you. We didn't-”.

“You didn't know, I know. I was…I was s-scared”.

Steven looked confused. “Scared? You?”.

“Something-something like that” he managed to say, “I just wanted…something. I-I don't know-”.

“It's alright. You don't need to tell us yet if you don't want to. I'm glad I found you” Steven parted from him briefly, “never did tell me your name”.

“Jake…my name's Jake”.

“Jake” Steven smiled warmly, “well…we gotta see about getting you and Marc in the same close headspace”.

Jake shook his head. “I can't. He won't…he'd never accept-”.

“None of that now. Look at me. I'm not a stress ball. You're not a punching bag. It's gonna be okay. We're a part of each other”.

The softness of his tone and his reassuring words tore down what was left of the wall around Jake Lockley's heart. A wall he'd been building since he formed in Marc Spector's mind, many were the times he wished he could take it down without fear of rejection.

“Don't be afraid. We'll talk to him” Steven assured him, “he's gotten a lot better at listening”.

His nerves were a bit fried but Jake nodded. “Alright…I trust you”.

He could only dare hope his trust wasn't misplaced…

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight fanfic #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort

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duckprintspress · 4 months

Text

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Catherine E. Green

This is it: the final contributor spotlight for our crowdfunding anthology Aether Beyond the Binary, featuring 17 aetherpunk stories starring non-binary characters! Now, by going through the campaign updates, you can read biographies of all seventeen authors featured in this anthology and read excerpts from their works! We hope you’ll do so, and love what you read! We’ll be putting up a single post linking all the spotlights on Tuesday (January 23rd) so be on the lookout!

The crowdfunding campaign for Duck Prints Press’s next anthology Aether Beyond the Binaryends in 4 days and we are still $2,000 from our funding goal. We’d love your helping ensuring this project succeeds: so signal boost our posts or become a backer TODAY!

About Catherine: Catherine E. Green (pronouns: xe/xem/xyr or they/them/their) is an agender person, one who’s had an on-again, off-again love affair with writing. Xe began writing when xe was a wee thing, when xyr other major pastimes were playing xyr mother’s NES and roughhousing with the boys next door. It’s only in the past few years that they have begun writing consistently and publishing their writing, fanfiction and original writing alike, leading to their first published short story titled “Of Loops and Weaves.”

Outside of writing, xe is a collector of books and sleep debt and an avid admirer of the cosmos. Playing video games, reading a variety of fiction genres (primarily fantasy, queer romance, and manga and graphic novels of all kinds), and working on wrangling their own personal data archiving projects occupy most of their free time. Xe is also proud to announce xyr graduation from a crocheting a single scarf to crocheting several scarves and other projects.

Links: Bluesky

This is Catherine’s first time contributing as a writer to a Duck Prints Press anthology, but xe were an editor on our anthology Aim For The Heart: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Alexandre Dumas’s “The Three Musketeers”, and xe are also an editor for Aether Beyond the Binary. Xyr short story Of Loops and Weaves is linked above.

An Interview with Catherine E. Green

How did you pick the name you create under?

Catherine is my meatspace name. The E. Green is an homage to my grandmother, who is herself a writer and poet and someone I look to for writing advice and inspiration. She was my first beta when I was first starting to write, and I cannot thank her enough for her loving support.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I’m somewhere in between a pantser and a planster. I usually go into writing something with some overarching idea (like a theme or a shape of a scene) and begin the actual act of writing with setting the scene. However, if the words aren’t coming, before I resolve to try again another day, I try writing something somewhere in the middle of the narrative – just to try to trick my brain into cooperating with me. This will sometimes lead to some internal consistencies in my writing (which one reason I love editing so much – love, love, love it), but it gets words on the page, which is often my biggest hurdle.

What do the phrases “writer’s block” or “art block” mean to you?

Writer’s block, to me, is when the filters my anxiety has built up in my mind sufficient block my creative output. It’s when I question every word I put on the page to the point where nothing I write feels worth keeping, much less moving on from. I don’t know that it’s ever something I’ll be able to work through, but I’m trying our being kinder with myself and addressing my mental health issues to see if both combined help reduce how long my writer’s block lasts for. Here’s hoping!

What are your favorite resources and tools for your craft?

iPad with a magic keyboard, Google Docs, and either Notepad or some sticky notes for things I want to bear in mind while I’m writing. I’ve tried Scrivener and similar software, but I’ve never vibed with any of them.

What is your “dream project” – the thing you’d see as the culmination of your work as a creator?

I wrote a short story during my undergraduate studies that still have a fondness for to this day. It’s contemporary fantasy-type thing set in a lonely, not-quite-haunted cul-de-sac, where the lights and people seem to fade in and out of existence. It’s about identity, companionship among people who come from very different backgrounds, and the importance of language in how it shapes identity and relationships. I want to expand the work into a novel at some point, if I can, but we’ll see.

Tell us about your pet(s).

I have a 6-year-old tuxedo cat named Yennefer (yes, the reference). My brother and I adopted her a couple years ago from a small rural animal shelter. At the time, the shelter had given her the name Jennifer, so Yennefer was hardy a jump at all. And, goodness, does she have the personality to match. She’s my energetic boo-boo head, who likes to sleep on my bookshelves and knock over my coffee, and I love her to bits.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Try to write a little bit every day, even if it’s only a hundred words. The period of time when I was writing everyday was when I felt the best about my writing and when I felt like I was most capable shutting down the filters in my brain that make it difficult to write.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new creator who came to you for help, what would that advice be?

1) Read, read, read. Read a little bit of everything: fiction, non-fiction, fantasy, mystery, science fiction, history, etc. Read about writing. Read works by people whose style you vibe with and those by people whose style you don’t. Every bit of reading helps build a scaffold onto which you can hang your own ideas and words, and having a more stable scaffolding, and more stable foundation can only help your writing improve.

2) Learn how to talk about your writing, especially once you get to a point where you’re engaging the services of alphas, betas, and editors. The writer and the editor work best together when there can be open dialogue, and open dialogue is only possible when all parties involved can talk about the work in a productive way.

3) Figure out the kind of environment you work best in, whether that includes music or white noise or nothing, what kind of device you prefer typing on or if you prefer hand-writing, whether you work best in long stretches every so often or in short, frequent stretches, and so on. Try to craft your perfect writing space.

4) Writing is a skill one can work on improving over the course of an entire life. There is no end-point at which you are suddenly a good writer. Every word you write is a small step toward better your writing in one way or another, so try not to become too frustrated with yourself if you don’t feel like you’re improving. You are—I promise.

Catherine’s Contribution to Aether Beyond the Binary

Title: To Hold the World Close

Excerpt:

Very much unlike the typical saying “Sending along warm thoughts” and its various approximations, which often convey a rather intangible, often perfunctory, sentiment, Adrienne surrounds the swirling mass of fear, embarrassment, and grief with a warmth of xyr own. It’s the warmth of a community coming together to bring someone up from their knees; it’s the wondrous comfort of a light breeze and a spot of shade on an otherwise murderous hot summer day; it’s the pleasant touch of a loved one. I can’t be with you, my dear, not in person, but please take some measure of comfort from me, if you can, and seek out those who love you.

#aether beyond the binary #aetherpunk #kickstarter #anthology kickstarter #duck prints press #catherine e. green

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didhewinkback · 9 months

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OMFG I just read something old and MANNNN. You got me feeling all types of ways holy shit. The most I’ve ever felt reading a series holy cow. You are so fucking talented. Wowza. Please continue with the blurbs I feel like they are part of my life now.

Also does the fans know about Y/N and Harry’s current relationship? How did they feel when things were first announced after the wedding was called off and their relationship was exposed for the first time?

omg helllloooo you angel on earth !!! this message is soo lovely and kind and idk what i did to deserve it. i am so grateful that you took the time to write me and that you love the story so much!! i appreciate this message more than you knoow.

sorry this took me ages to answer as an apology i essentially wrote you a blurb pls see below

so per harry and erin's teams' agreement, the public never knew a wedding was supposed to take place. anyone who worked it had signed a pretty ironclad nda & all guests in attendance knew to stay silent about it, though some of erin's friends did try to go to deuxmoi at one point months later but that got shut down pretty quick. when the press release about the engagement ending came out, there was obviously endless speculation about it, discourse, tiktoks etc. people had a lot of feelings about harry and erin's relationship, they either absolutely loved the fashion power couple or they absolutely hated it and it was best to avoid any and all discussions on the matter, made easier by the break up being announced when you were on pause and doing your best to ignore any and all celeb news (though you did do some google searches at 3 am when you couldn't sleep but it immediately made you feel terrible so you avoided it like the plague, knowing if you needed to know something, harry would tell you)

as for your relationship, you both kept it realllly low key and private for the first year, wanting the broken off engagement to become old old news before anything got speculated about the two of you, harry was pretty adamant about ensuring no one connected you to the breakup. it was much easier than it sounds, he can really disappear when he needs to and it was important to both of you to protect what you had, shield it from prying eyes. his relationship with erin had been highly publicized and he had no interest in doing that again and you couldn't agree more, you've got no interest in that world or leaning into the public eye, so that first year was quite lovely, going on dates around london, moving in together around his birthday, 8 months into dating officially but conventional timelines never applied to you both. if you ever were spotted out together by fans, any speculation got shut down pretty quickly, people recognized you as his lifelong childhood friend and had no reason to assume otherwise, which worked in your favor when his tour started up again and there was tiktok upon tiktok about how "yes you've been to more shows than usual but jeff's at every show and no one thinks he's dating harry so why would they think it about you??" you avoided it all but roxy loved to take the piss, sending you screenshots every so often when you would show up on her for you page with a text "cannot seem to escape this bitch" to which you would reply "just how many videos of h's concert were you watching to get this on your algorithm?"

its in december 2021, the start of his few months off before the work craziness resumes, a lazy sunday morning. you're lounging on the couch, half heartedly clicking through netflix when you hear him come back into the house from his coffee run, hearing snippets of the phone call he's having getting louder after he kicks his shoes off and makes his way towards you.

"Yeah, I'll talk to her 'nd get back to you." he says, as he turns the corner, still bundled up with his beanie and hoodie pulled over his head, brow furrowed as he listens to the other end while still balancing the coffees and bag of pastries in his hand. "Yeah, for sure. Okay I'll call you back. Love you bro, bye."

He hangs up the phone, placing the treats on the coffee table before taking out his airpods and shuffling over to you. He hovers over where you lay, resting his hands on the back and arm of the couch before leaning in.

"Hi," he murmurs with a soft smile on his face, leaning in to kiss you.

You shudder when you pull away, the frost from outside having seeped into his face. "You're cold," you say with a small frown to which he immediately rolls his eyes and nudges his cold nose down the side of your face, pressing kisses all along your cheeks, forehead, jawline, until you push him away with a giggle. He smacks one final kiss to your head before pulling away, tugging his hoodie off his head and taking his beanie off to shake out his hair.

He leans back to grab the coffee off the table, handing you your cup while throwing the bag of pastries onto your lap before he grabs his own cup, lifting your legs temporarily before settling on the other side of the couch, placing your ankles over his lap. He leans back, resting his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath. You assume you're the "her" he mentioned on the phone earlier but you opt to give him time, peeling open the pastry bag to see what he picked up.

"Got something weird to talk to y' about." he says, making you pause in your rifling efforts as you look over at him, finding him in the same position, his eyes still closed.

"Oookay."

He squeezes your ankle once, opening his eyes and rolling his head along the back of the couch to look at you.

"There was a pap yesterday. Last night. On our walk. Don't know how but - here." He pulls his phone out of his sweatshirt pocket, quickly unlocking it before handing it over to you.

You feel an uneasy pit in your stomach as you swipe through the photos, though there's nothing bad or damning or embarrassing about them. Objectively, they're quite lovely. The two of you bundled up through the blustery London night, his arm wrapped around your shoulders with yours around his waist, him pulling you into his chest as you laugh, his chin resting against your head, then pressing a kiss to your hair. You both look happy, really, really happy, completely unaware of any eyes on you. You keep scrolling through and - ah. There's the most revealing one, the two of you smiling up at each other before he pulls you into a kiss with his hands cradling your face.

You can feel his eyes on you, intently watching every emotion that passes over your face, thumb rubbing circles along your ankle. It's so weird, is the thing. To see this intimate moment between you two captured by a complete stranger who you had no idea was watching you. You've somehow managed to avoid this happening up until this point, the combination of lawsuits he has against paps in London and being able to blend in with the crowd having worked in your favor for the last year. It's a bizarre feeling, to feel like you got too complacent in your own life, should've been more aware of your surroundings. But also? Fuck that. You're not going to live your life differently because of what other people are doing or thinking. They're the ones with the issue, not you.

"'m so sorry," he says, 'Had no idea -"

"No no no," you say quickly cutting him off, as you hand him his phone back, sitting up and taking his hand when he offers it. "No need to apologize."

"Daily Mail and a few others got a hold of 'em, that was Jeff earlier. He and Sadie wanted to see if we wanted them to run any kind of interference." he says, small frown on his face as he plays with your palm, fingers drawing mindless patterns. "The photos are getting published regardless but like they could try to keep you as a mystery woman or summat -"

You snort, shaking your head as you rest your forehead on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. It takes a second of rearranging your legs before you're sat on his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back. You pull back to look at him, hands coming up to cradle his face. He leans into the touch, turning to plant a kiss to your palm.

"You okay?" you ask quietly.

He nods. "Just don't like getting caught off guard like that. Don't like that people who don't know us will get to -"

"Yeah."

"And I don't want to fuck things up for you. Like your job or -"

"Everyone at work already knew. And those who didn't met you last week. Most people are barely on the internet there, I'm not stressed. " you say, sliding your hands to rest on his shoulders as he nods, brow furrowed in thought.

"'s gonna be intense for a bit. Might be good to hop on a call with Jeff and Sadie, see what boundaries we can set, control what we can control."

"Yeah, that'd be good," you say, your mind whirling as the reality of the situation sets in, photos of you kissing your boyfriend splashed all over the internet. Christ.

"Hey," he says gently. "Talk to me?"

"Sorry," you say, shaking your head. "I'm good. Just - it's a lot. It's definitely gonna be weird, nothing I can't adjust to but still just. Bizarre."

"Yeah." he says, his hand coming up rest at the back of your neck. "You look really fit in the photos if that helps."

You laugh, watching as the smile grows across his face, his thumb catching on your jawline.

"It does, thanks." you say, smiling back at him.

"'m really sorry this can't be easier. Being with me -"

"Shut up." you say, surprising a laugh out of him. "Please. This is nothing. Easy to ignore at the end of the day. All that matters to me is you."

"Same here," he says, taking a deep breath, lips twitching up. "All that matters to me is me."

"You're so stupid, I knew you were gonna say that -" you say, laughing as you slap him on the chest, trying to twist out of his hold but he pulls you back in.

"'s you, 's you. You know 's you darling, come here." he murmurs, smiling when you press your lips to his, gripping your neck a bit tighter as he kisses you back. You know you have to call back his team, figure out some logistics but that can wait. All you want is right here.

---

so yes, the photos get published, the fans freak out. lots claiming they always always knew, many spending their time trying to piece together the relationship timeline, no one connecting it back to erin thankfully. it helps that she is busy with her new billionaire boyfriend, (you almost clicked on their architectural digest tour the other day before deciding against it). but you both really ignore it all, keep going about your lives, nothing really changes because you don't let it. you both still want to keep your relationship out of the public eye as much as you can, it doesn't stop fans or paps from taking your picture when you're out together but its easy to ignore it, just focus on each other, ignore the noise and the crazy corners of the internet.

he rarely talks about you in interviews, confirming you're together, maybe a brief mention or two of his girlfriend but refusing to go beyond that. it's only in his zane lowe interview in late 2024 that he goes into a little more detail when describing his inspiration for his new album, but at that point he's calling you something entirely different :) :) :)

---

#didnt edit this one single bit do not judge me #something old #anon pls let me know what you think its allll 4 u baby #writers block been kicking my butt but this helped !#i missed them <3

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safiyahisms · 3 months

Text

( ayo edebiri, cis woman, she/her ) — 🎬 just announced, SAFIYAH ADEYEMI has been cast as PHOEBE BUFFAY in the upcoming FRIENDS reboot. the twenty seven year old is trending as people are debating if the permanent smile on your face, accidentally posting to your public story instead of your close friends, overcompensating to hide any insecurities, mumbling different deliveries before the director yells action that they are known for is enough to make them as good as original. a quick google search shows that their fans call them jovial, but internet trolls think they’re more scatterbrained. i guess their newest interview for variety where they talk about how her high school drama teacher accompanied her to her first audition will let people know them better.

BACKGROUND:

born and raised in portland oregon

smack dab in the middle of seven kids. three older, three younger. there weren't supposed to be seven of them-- in fact, safiyah was supposed to be the final one. the other three... well... oops ?

being in the middle of seven was extremely difficult. all children need attention to thrive, but safiyah needed it desperately.

before her younger brother was born, safiyah would take dance classes. she had lots of fun in them, and always enjoyed the rush of performing in front of an audience.

she was seven when her brother was born, which meant all the time ( and money ) allotted for her extra curricular were no longer available.

although the classes stopped, that didn't mean her performances stopped. she would sign up for the talent show every year, planning her next routine.

safiyah has always been a Media Consumer™️ . as a kid, she was glued to the tv when the proud family and that's so raven were on tv. as she got older, she joined her older siblings as they watched moesha, living single, and girlfriends.

living with such a big family, you had to have a quick wit. you had to be able to take it, but also be able to give it. to this day, she's always credited her family for her sense of humor.

she'd always been an extrovert, and as she grew up and everyone grew into understanding social situations, it was clear safiyah was also very AWKWARD. an extrovert, but sometimes struggles to form a coherent sentence.

while her personality often felt buried at home, it shined bright at school. safiyah wasn't popular, by any means, but she easily picked up the role as the class clown. every report card said ' DECENT STUDENT. TALKS TOO MUCH. NEEDS TO TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY.'

once she entered the after school drama program in middle school, her whole world seemed to open up. being on the stage, reading lines... it all made her feel so alive. the rush being in front of others, acting as if she was somebody else... well, it was nice to have all eyes on her when that wasn't the case at home.

after joining drama, her dreams expanded. every time she watched a movie or a tv show ( hell, even a commercial ), she dreamed of seeing herself on a screen. any screen.

once she learned about casting calls, she'd always kept her eye on ones she might fit. she always tried to convince her family to take her ( ' it's only a fifteen hour drive ! ' ), but they always told her no.

it wasn't until her drama club's class trip to los angeles her junior year that safiyah was able to attend her audition, with her drama teacher posing as her manager. she didn't get the role, or even a callback, but she couldn't believe she had actually pulled it off. a real audition !

it was that day that she decided to look at colleges in southern california area. it seemed to be the only way to get herself there. did the idea of an incredibly high student debt scare her ? absolutely. but, in her eyes, it was the only way to even get close to her dreams.

once she moved to california, she'd slowly started booking commercials and web shows. it wasn't much, but they were jobs. she knew she couldn't complain.

those, along with a couple other jobs were able to keep her afloat for awhile. she always seemed to become runner up in auditions, but never could seem to land a lead role. she was getting guest starring roles here and there, but was really hoping for at least a recurring role. however, once she turned twenty-four(? idk shooting schedules im making an educated guess here 🤓), she'd landed a role in the friends reboot. and as her favorite friend, at that.

so, she's taking things one day at a time ! happy as a clam to have a consistent job.

PERSONALITY:

phd in yapping ! never knows when to stop talking

impostor syndrome to the max. knows she's funny, but doesn't think she's all that funny.

sees herself as the feminine nick miller. insecure, but confident. doesn't know how to process emotions. very awkward.

after shooting every season, she prays and manifests a renewal announcement.

very disorganized . loses things often

can never seem to post things to her close friends on instagram ... luckily its just her being stupid and not anything shady ! one of these days she'll make a finsta

ok uhhhhhhhh def couldve written more but am getting tired and just wanted to post this !!!!!! if u read all of this mwah xoxo ty for reading

#2000s.intro

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist!

October 7th - Michael Makes You a Festive and Spooky Dinner

Michael of your Choosing!

How you hated working a retail job, especially towards the end of the year when most of the festivities and holidays are closer together.

Some days, you got home right on time. And other days, you had to stay over for a half hour to provide coverage on a register while waiting on the next cashier to come in.

Due to this, you were unable to check your phone every time you felt it buzzing.

Whether it being Michael or one of your friends, you just couldn't do it.

When the store was slow, you took the opportunity to check your phone and open the text message Michael had sent you, which wasn't often as he truly hated a phone, but he liked to communicate with you and you figured giving him one of your older phones would help him as it took him forever to come out of his shell and actually speak to you.

He simply asked you when you were coming home and you could only reply with "I'm waiting on the next cashier to get here so I can leave. Probably another hour."

He hated when your job seemed to take advantage of you, but he desperately tried to understand.

Roughly an hour later, you were relieved to see the cashier come in to relieve you from the register. Clocking out in a rush, you were desperate to get home and start on dinner.

Once home, you immediately took note of a warm and nostalgic smell coming from inside as you opened the door. Michael was cooking?

"Michael? I'm home!" You announced, removing your shoes off of your feet at the door and setting down your purse.

He didn't reply to you, but you continued into the kitchen to see him stirring whatever it was he had put into the crock pot.

You smiled, leaning up against the doorframe to watch him. Whatever he was making looked and smelled very good, especially what was in the oven.

"Whatcha making?" You asked, surprised that you startled him.

He set the wooden spoon on the nearby napkin before coming over to greet you, kissing your temple before replying, "I went hunting."

You gasped, praying he was joking, pushing him away from you before he started laughing. "Relax, I'm just kidding. Vegetable soup."

"I don't know if I trust you now." You giggled before watching him go to the trash can to show you that he used cans of vegetables and a can of corned beef.

"I'd never do that," He shook his head. "Who do you think I am? Dahmer?"

"I'd sure hope not."

"I mean, I've done my fair share of bad things, but the things he did...wow. I remember reading about him when I was, you know, locked up."

"Whatcha got in the oven?"

"Cinamon streusel cake."

"Wow, you made that all yourself?" You asked, knowing you didn't have any cake mix of that stature in your pantry.

"Yeah... after I figured out how to use Google." He chuckled.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious."

"You got home just in time. It's almost done. Go get settled in and I'll have a bowl waiting on you. Figured we could watch a movie tonight if you wanted to."

"Of course, Michael."

Seriously, how was this man so perfect for you?

#og michael myers #michael myers #james jude courtney #h40michael #michaelmyers #myersoneshots #peepaw myers #rz michael myers

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nickgerlich · 1 year

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On The Fence

I remember back to the old days when motion sensor lights were all the rage in home security. If anyone walked into the sensor’s “line of sight,” the spotlights would go on. Hopefully, break-ins and theft would go down.

Today, that’s all pretty laughably simple stuff. Home security systems are a dime a dozen now, and anyone can install them, allowing us to monitor things from afar via our phones.  

But imagine a world in which our phones also interact not just with the things we have installed at home, but perhaps technology installed by companies. Imagine a world in which if you cross a virtual barrier, and it triggers marketing offers. And imagine a world in which the marketer recognizes you coming, and starts prepping your order before you actually arrive.  

The latter is what McDonald’s is launching. The tech involved is geo-fencing, which allows a company to establish arbitrary (and sometimes downright aggressive) virtual barriers circumferentially around any location. It could be your own location. Or aggressively, as in the case of Burger King, when they established their Whopper Detour around competing restaurants, and then tried to lure people away.

McDonald’s sees geo-fencing as a way to speed up service. As a marketer, I see geo-fencing as fertile ground for drumming up sales, and if the provider can do it faster, that’s even better. In fact, while a number of QSR (Quick-Service Restaurants) have already launched geo-fencing efforts, I think it is an area that has thus far been under-utilized.

Think about it. Through the use of AI, your Google Maps or Waze figures out that you frequently enter the same query: “Craft breweries near me.” Wouldn’t it be nice if Google Maps simply announced such information whenever you happen to be near one? You know, without my having to enter it one more time? Heck, Google could even sell premier ad space so that individual breweries are announced first and more often.

The same could hold for virtually any type of business you frequent. You wouldn’t even have to enter a query, because, as we all know, Google is tracking our every movement. It knows you frequently go to TJ Maxx , for example. So why not let us know one is nearby?

What I am describing is not so much geo-fencing, but rather location-based marketing, but there is a huge overlap in this Venn Diagram. It can all become rather blurry, but the hoped-for result is still the same: increase sales.

So let’s run with this. Taco Bell should be hitting us up with ads when we’re entering its trade zone. Gas Buddy, the popular crowd-sourced gas price app, should know when we last stopped for fuel, and then starts spouting off prices as we hit the 300-mile mark on a tank. Hotels could do likewise. I am pretty sure that Google knows I prefer Hilton properties, so it may as well hit me with their best shot.

Naturally, some may feel this is an invasion of privacy. I hate to say this one more time, but that veil was pierced long ago. I do agree, though, that screen-based and verbal information such as this should be opt-in. It could be distracting at minimum while driving, and at worst, plain annoying. Somewhere in the middle are “informative” and “attention-worthy.”

As for McDonald’s, good on them for being tech-forward, even if geo-fencing capabilities have actually been around for quite a few years now. For regular customers, this could be a godsend, if only because the company can provide ever better service. It might even do a little more up-selling along the way. And if they’re really smart, they will notice you rolling along nearby even if you hadn’t just placed an order. It’s always time for a snack, right?

Now if I could just get WT to deploy something like this so that the staff would know when I am about to arrive. I like my coffee with a tablespoon of almond milk, please. And make sure that coffee is hot. Turn on my computer so I can login as soon as I step in the office. A couple of new dry erase markers would be nice as well so I am ready to go to my class.  

Oh well. It’s one thing to dream. And it is quite another when you could just call me an April Fool a day late. At least they’ll know I am there. They can sense that motion.

Dr “Coming In For A Landing“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #geo-fencing #fast food #QSR #mobile

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radixxsort · 1 year

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My intention in posting this is not to announce a return to tumblr, but rather, to provide a “where is she now”-esque update and most likely disappear back into the void.

Don’t worry – in the time since I last posted, I have been completely fine, and in all honesty, probably better after doing some of the work to unplug more compared to before. I am posting this to share my own experiences in detoxing from social media, in the hopes that someone finds even just one of these ideas useful. You don’t have to quit tumblr in order to benefit from this advice – I just personally don’t have much of a reason myself to try making tumblr work for me.

The main reason I joined tumblr in the first place was to try and find a sense of community, especially considering that I felt a void in terms of connecting with other feminists after quitting Discord due to privacy concerns with it as a platform. However, I haven’t been able to actually connect with people here on tumblr, and I think this is just a matter of the fact that I find it much harder to start and participate in conversations here. Additionally, I found that I was quickly falling back into old habits of obsessively scrolling through recent posts without really getting much from what I saw, just on my dashboard instead of channels in a Discord server. If there is enough demand for it, I might consider starting similar communities using Matrix or XMPP-based messaging services to allow for the sense of connection I had without the same privacy concerns as Discord – I would want to see if it’s possible to strike the right balance of allowing for a sense of community without falling back into the pit of eternal scrolling. On the one hand, I crave this sense of connection that I had on Discord, but on the other, I desparately want to make some sort of real difference that feels much harder to achieve over the internet. (If you’re interested in reading more about organizing over the internet and reclaiming our control, I recommend checking out this post of mine).

That being said, tumblr still has its things that kept me around for some time. I enjoyed having an outlet to write longer posts. In school, I was one of those students who always did well with essays, but didn’t actually enjoy writing them – having a tumblr blog, and even some other experiences since I left, have slowly shown me that I can enjoy writing argumentative and informative works when I actually get to choose the topic and I’m not stressed out from dealing with my poor time management skills.

The real thing that kept me around, though, was seeing well-crafted arguments from other users. Every so often within my dashboard, I would come across a post that articulated a specific issue very clearly or shed light on a novel perspective. On the one hand, it felt like these posts were Expanding my Intellectual Horizons and allowing me to Witness the Forefront of a Force of Change, but on the other hand, these hits of satisfaction would fuel my addiction and motivate me to slog through countless other posts that would be forgotten within a few minutes.

A short side note – if you’re like me and want to have access to YouTube for video tutorials that are genuinely useful, but you’re concerned about Google’s privacy practices and the addictive UI patterns, I’ll talk about my solution. I use Invidious (usually the yewtu.be instance, but there are many URLs that run Invidious) to watch YouTube videos without having as much of my information being set to Google, and a few browser extensions to cut back on distractions. I use Invidioucious to custom-tailor the UI and have these changes actually be consistently applied between browser sessions (specifically, I set the “other arguments” field to “&related_videos=false&comments=[]” to turn off related videos and comments), I use Redirector to automatically change any Invidious “popular” or “trending” feed page to redirect to a blank search page with no videos shown (I redirect both “*/feed/popular*” and “*/feed/trending*” to “$1/search$2” – note that in all of these, the quotation marks are not included in what you actually enter), and I use LeechBlock to automatically give me a 30-second delay in accessing the pages for YouTube channels on Invidious (blocking “*/channel/*”), since browsing through all of a channel’s videos is a way that I personally tend to fall down binge spirals. If you still want to use official YouTube instead of Invidious, then DF YouTube is a browser extension worth checking out for changing the UI.

During this stretch of time when I wasn’t on tumblr, I got back into reading. In the case of political theory, this allowed me to find a concentrated stream of the High Quality Takes that I only found in fragments here, often by going to the source in finding books that I saw frequently quoted. I was an avid reader as a child, but stopped reading as much in 2018 or so. I’ve read 41 books to completion in 2022 (with a few more I’ll probably finish by the end of the year). Most of that reading took place in May or later, and the majority was non-fiction – this was by far the most non-fiction reading I’ve done overall. I feel like this shift has had a distinctly positive impact on my mental well-being, by allowing me to become more informed without external distractions and by training myself to rebuild my attention span and think. I mention this so I can provide some advice for others looking to pursue this as well – the rest of this post is reading-related advice.

Firstly, I recommend knowing where you can get free books. You can definitely get far with resources like your local library or Project Gutenberg, which provides free e-book versions of books that are old enough that their copyright has lapsed. Also, as devastated as I was when Z-Library was shut down, I am not going to publicly endorse downloading books that were not properly authorized with regards to copyright, even though I personally think that copyright law is, to put it politely, a load of bullshit. (Whatever you do, though, don’t go to Library Genesis, unless you want to get eaten by the copyright monster or whatever…)

I’ve been developing a to-be-read list for a long time, probably a few years now. However, I found that even after I acquired a large hoard of free e-books through completely legitimate means and definitely not piracy, actually convincing myself to read them was a different issue. This brings me to my next piece of advice – know what format works for you and use that to your advantage. For a while, I tried getting back into reading just using my computer, only to find that it was an absolute slog. Reading dense text on a bright computer screen and hunched over my desk in an uncomfortable position doesn’t really work for me. I ended up purchasing a used Nook Simple Touch from eBay that cost me less than $20 USD, including tax and shipping, and its e-ink display and portability ended up being a fantastic match for my physical comfort.

However, I have explored other options for reading e-books without needing to purchase a new device, and I still had some good findings, even with the e-reader being my favorite. I tried using speed-reading software, which displays one word at a time at the same position, allowing you to read very quickly without moving your eyes. The fact that it is much faster, and in my case, a dark background with light text as opposed to the other way around, mitigated some of the discomfort in my eyes. However, I was unable to find software that actually saved my place in the book, and skipping to the place I wanted to read was a major pain because there was no function to skip a chapter at a time, so I had to hold down the arrow key to get to the specific place I left off at. There is probably software that does have this function, I just didn’t find it – even if there isn’t, this is still a good option for something you know you can read through in one sitting, such as shorter books and articles.

I have also tried reading in conjunction with text-to-speech software, and the combination of audio and visual input turned out to work well for me. This actually also allowed me to read at a much faster pace than one might expect – I usually gradually ramp up the speed in the text-to-speech software to 5 or 6 times the default speed, and I know that it’s working best when I feel myself fall into a rhythm with the way my eyes move through the text. Not only does this allow me to read faster while using text-to-speech, but I’ve found that it actually serves as “training wheels” to help me read faster without the text-to-speech. On a similar note, I recommend doing research on speed-reading techniques. There are many techniques that can be used together to do this, but the one that I think has helped me the most is learning to read with my peripheral vision and keeping my eyes towards the center of the page, mainly moving my eyes vertically and much less horizontally. To help with this, I recommend making sure that the overall column width of your e-book isn’t too wide, if you’re using a digital format.

#me

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poisontop6 · 2 years

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The 5-Second Trick For Top headlines tech

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#slashbeats

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silverlineswap · 2 years

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The Solana Saga is One Story that Will Drag on for Different Reasons

Is it a smart idea for Solana Labs to introduce a new blockchain mobile phone for the web3 generation?

Let’s investigate this issue further. I just want to be clear up front that the true potential victory for Solana is in its Solana Mobile Stack (SMS), which has a lot more success potential than a pure hardware approach. Mobile Device Management (MDM) platforms have proliferated since iOS first debuted years ago in order to support enterprise use cases. The Solana Mobile Stack from Solana Labs has the potential to both hasten the development of mobile platforms for blockchain technology and to lure enterprise case studies for blockchain-based mobility via a blockchain MDM solution. The attempt to introduce a blockchain phone is not Solana’s first.

A collaboration between giants like Samsung and Klayton debuted in 2019 exclusively in South Korean markets with five dApps already installed. Although it is unknown how successful that was three years later, you can infer from the lack of fanfare that this was not well received. After Clayton’s dismal sales, LG immediately went on the defense and was rumored to release its own competing phone, but that entirely fizzled.

I would imagine that this was primarily because of its own Crypto market research. The other most well-known attempts came from Sirin Labs in 2018 and HTC with their Exodus phones. Pundi X attempted to introduce their own blockchain mobile even in India. Since their launches, nothing more has been said about any of them because they were unable to garner any significant traction at all.

Because software-based businesses see user adoption as a natural market fit, mobile phones are a wonderful hardware flex for them. However, they’ve consistently been shown to be inaccurate. It’s important to remember that Solana is working with the Asom team, which has never released a hardware device. In fact, the phone that Saga is now using was meant to be unveiled back in September of last year. The mobile industry, where businesses have attempted to expand their brands into new markets, is like an elephant’s graveyard of poor choices and significant balance sheet imbalances. This is before they understand that shipping issues and testing are more common when delivering hardware than when releasing software. The fact that Solana has around 2 million monthly active users (MAU) does not imply that there are 2 million eager customers and developers who want a new mobile device, nor does it imply the appeal of a hardware solution for the software industry would attract additional people.

“Solana can revolutionize so much of what we do every day, but we need to open the possibilities for decentralized apps on our mobile devices in order for this potential to be realized.” Sam Bankman-Fried, CEO of FTX said of the announcement.

He is correct, but it also highlights the fact that, despite the availability of dApps, only a small percentage of individuals are actually interested in Web3. Additionally, there are software updates.

Due to the Saga’s Android foundation, Google often provides security patches to Pixel owners before requiring other OEMs to incorporate them into their own phones. For each dApp developer to ensure that their own software is compatible with the phone, this entails setting up a dedicated staff to continuously upgrade the custom OS and security. A tiny OEM startup will find it extremely challenging to keep up with the annual release of new phones from companies like Apple, Samsung, Google, LG, and others with better and more advanced specifications. This is one “saga” that might continue despite not being successful

#Solana saga #samsung #silverlineswap silverline trading cryptotrading #silverline crypto token #google #apple #OEM start up #smart phone

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