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#this isn't specific to olives by the way
slytherinsnekxvii · 2 years
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is there a name for that feeling where you want to eat an olive but you know you don't like olives but you still want to eat one anyway
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I don't think I can say this too often, so I'm saying it again.
Treat. Actors. As. Fucking. People.
Are you mad at something the character did? Cool. Be mad at that character. Be mad at the writers. But do not. DO NOT. Come after that actor in their real life.
(Or the writers, really, but that's a whole other thing).
It is their JOB. They are NOT THEIR CHARACTERS. Could they share traits? Sure. But it is THEIR JOB, it is not WHO THEY ARE.
I say this as someone who has lived through many a brutal fandom rager, and I am begging y'all to be better.
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Look, I don't want to be mean and message the person directly, but someone commented on the Bruce-Oliver twitter post that it was OOC for Oliver because 'Oliver Queen would be happy to be a billionaire because he's everything Bruce haters think Bruce is' and, like, tell me you've never read a Green Arrow comic without telling me you've never read a Green Arrow comic.
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surprisearson · 3 months
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The main critique I've seen leveraged at Saltburn is that is falls short of its message of "eat the rich". But like...I never saw it as as that. Saltburn (to me) is steeped in a specifically English class context of nobility. There is this gap that cannot be bridged. Oliver throughout the movie has this deep frustration that he does not permanently belong in the sphere of Saltburn. Multiple people specifically goad him with this fact. Oliver is privileged by most people's standards, but it isn't enough. It's not eat the rich as they're all terrible its eat the rich as consuming them, absorbing them, licking the plate clean. The film came across as less a class critique and a hornier knives out but rather a psychological horror story about desire and not being able to have what you want the most. Oliver will never belong truly at Saltburn. Oliver despite worming his way into the family never has physical intimacy with Felix. It's not skewering the rich, it's commenting on the deep desire to inhabit their skin.
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wonryllis · 1 month
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AGENT HEESEUNG ★ LITTLE BIT DANGEROUS BABY, THAT'S HOW I WANT IT.
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惹き付ける 𓈃 ﹙where,﹚ agent red gets distracted on a mission.
001 ꗃ. agent heeseung headcanons 640 words! warning MDNI NSFW; mentions of fingering crdt! of edit @hypenwons on tiktok LIB?
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"stop staring at her," jay's voice rings in heeseung's earpiece.
"what?" he's too lost in thoughts like? dude you got a national level mission to do where's your mind at?
less than two hours ago he was in prehaps THE MOST secret facility in the country going over plans of an undercover search that he was SPECIFICALLY CHOSEN for
and here he is now leaning against the countertop of the bar with a fancy drink in hand
surely it wasn't alcoholic, he can't afford to be intoxicated in the slightest bit, right?
"olive green knit crop and black pants, you're staring," the venom and warning in jay's voice bites back from the control room
heeseung takes a sip of his mocktail and sighs there's no way literally no way, jay's gotta be kidding
"i'm not staring," this has to be a joke because why is jay not kidding, it's been fifteen minutes and his eyes just keep following you and your every move
from the way your mouth shapes as you laugh amidst the crowd of your friends(he assumes) to the way your lips touch the glass of vodka to the way your hips sway as you scurry to the dance floor
"you are, agent red," how your body moves to the music and the little peaks of skin that show and how it just seems to glisten under the disco lights.
"shut it, you have a mission to focus on," with the high tech glasses on, he can see the remnants of the liquid shining on your lips each time you drink a glass.
he can not help but be drawn to those beautiful colored lips
in fact your whole existence is quite literally making him go crazy, his thoughts running to such places that he absolutely should not be thinking about on a mission for fucks sake
if he were to just walk over and kiss you right now he wonders what you'd taste like, vodka? tequila? flavored cocktails? sweet and addicting? BINGO!
"yeah whatever," heeseung chugs in his drink and puts the glass back on the counter, zeroing in on you one last time.
"what? what did you just say heeseung-" rip jay. we'll miss you dearly
BEFORE HE TAKES OUT HIS EARPIECE AND GLASSES TURNING THEM OFF AND SHOVING INTO HIS SUIT POCKETS KSJHKKS
in the blink of an eye he's right behind you, slyly putting his hands on your waist as he joins you on the crowded dance floor standing impossibly close kshjsjd
and like an incubus bends to whisper in your ear, voice husky and tempting. he knows how to charm his way * - *
"you wanna dance together, pretty?" (died.)
the entire time his hands roam everywhere and anywhere caressing your curves shamelessly (if that's not heeseung)
it doesn't take long though for him to initiate a kiss, isn't that what he dropped his mission for?
but god forbid how wrecked he was about to be,, for the moment his lips touched yours, lee heeseung knew
HE WAS DAMN SURE INTOXICATED (can you hear me screaming?)
sucking and biting on your lips wasn't enough for him he just wanted more, so much more 👀
"does it feel good baby?" he can not stop staring at your face as his hand moves between your legs. fingers inside you with the thumb circling against your clit and the other hand around your neck holding you in a light choke
the way you suck in a breath, bite on your lips whinning to hold in a loud moan, the sounds going straight down against his tight pants and how your hooded eyes keep looking at him in a sultry daze.
WAY TOO INTOXICATED to realize you're the one he was supposed to find info on, and you have him exactly how you planned to, wrapped around your finger.
so, enemies to ?
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TAGLIST. ( open ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue
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darling--core · 1 year
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Nsfw HC’s for a darling who feels so good that they squirm uncontrollably and ask the Yans to hold them down to keep them from running bc “It just feels so good~”
nsfw under the cut.
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THE TEAMMATES are luckily quite used to working as a team, so they will have no problems making sure you can't get away from them. plus? these sports boys are strong. you'll have hands all over you, someone gripping your waist, your legs, your arms, anywhere they have to in order to keep you right where they want you. oliver loves how sensitive you are, how sweet you are to request something like this; skylar will tease you about it for sure; and declan just loves using his strength to hold you down, so its really a win all around for him.
THE CRIMINAL is another strong boy, and he loves hearing about the effect he has on you. don't worry, he will absolutely oblige in holding you down to make sure you can't run away from the pleasure he's giving you, but hearing you ask that question gets him so riled up that you might wish you hadn't asked at all. now he's not letting you go until he's completely satisfied. he'll twist you into all kinds of positions that you won't be able to get out of, and if it comes down to it? you know he's got handcuffs.
THE SUPERHERO probably already has that covered, honestly. he's ridiculously strong, sometimes without realizing it, so he's probably already got an iron grip on you during sex. but if you ask for it? ask him to hold you tighter, that it feels too good but you want more, you need him to make sure you take it all? not only are you getting held down, but you're getting railed within an inch of your life for sure.
THE CEO is more than willing to get creative with your request. he is very much a fan of tying you up already; he'll go out of his way to suggest doing much more than simply holding you down. if you want, if you let him, he'll have you completely immobile while he practically smothers you with pleasure. don't get him wrong, he loves how sensitive and squirmy you are, but he doesn't want you to get away from him until he's done with you– and knowing him, that can take awhile~
THE BULLY would literally and actually die, but he would definitely do it. the image of you squirming and crying under him and begging him not to let you get away, to make you take more.... it's gonna be the thing that flashes before him when he dies, thats for sure. heaven is nothing compared to that. he'll hold you down with just his hands, wanting to feel you writhe and struggle under him.
THE ROCK BAND, like the teammates, will have no issue holding you down like you ask. they can work as a team to hold you down, but levi especially is totally willing to hold you against him while the other two play with you, telling you how good you look, how well you're taking them, how hot it is to watch you get fucked. finn is more interested in restraining you in other ways– rope, specifically. and shane is all hands, baby.
THE RICH GIRL will also tease you mercilessly about it. not only is it a big ego boost, but she loves that she can make you feel so good you have to ask her to restrain you in some way. ava isn't the strongest, so she would have to rely on other means to keep you restrained. her personal favorites are silk ties and leather handcuffs; she owns multiple sets in pink.
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My dear lgbt+ kids,
I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.
Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.
Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).
What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?
Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.
I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?
We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!
I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.
You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.
With all my love,
Your Tumblr Dad
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azulock · 1 month
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NSFW headcannos of kaiser, aiku and shidou with a shy reader!fem with sensitive body?👀 - I requested this while almost dying of sleep, so I apologize if you didn't understand (English isn't my first language and I'm not fluent either, sorry about that ( ̄▽ ̄))
It's cool nonnie, and your English is pretty fine so it's all good. Was I supposed to be on a holiday? Yes, but I'm taking a break from my holiday, mostly cause I'm way too tired to even go out. Anyway, hope this is good nonnie
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Ryusei Shidou
- A major tease, will openly tease you in public even, he doest care about PDA so he just will, cause it's fun for him, your shyness only make sit more interesting
- Tho, in private it only gets worse, Shidou waits specifically for the moments you are engrossed in something to let his hands find your body
- Will come up from behind you while you are doing chores and straight up pinch your nipples through your shirt, he's kind of mean
- Doesn't have the patience to overstimulate you for long periods of time in bed, but that doesn't mean he won't do it, just means he's gonna be hitting all of your sweet spots fast and intense
- Likes to do that before burying his cock I to you, cause when he gets to that point he already wants you dumb and completely mindless on him
Michael Kaiser
- Teases you but only in private, your reactions are something for his eyes only, he really isn't willing to share, which in a way is good since you are timid
- He can be really mean in private tho, gonna sit you down on his lap naked in front of a mirror, and he's gonna proceed to touch the most sensitive parts of your body while he makes you watch
- He's gonna overstimulate and edge you for a while as he makes you watch, you gonna need to pull out the safe word cause he won't stop even if you cry
- Once he gets tired of toying with you he's gonna fuck your pussy while still making you watch yourself getting fucked in the mirror
Oliver Aiku
- Teases you in private but also in public, tho he is very good at making it inconspicuous, he doesn't want things to be obvious cause of how you are shy but he finds the game fun
- Will tease you a lot at home, and not just in sexual ways, he really does like your reactions and finds a lot of amusement in how sensitive your body is, thinks it's cute if you get flustered from that
- Likes sliding his fingers over any exposed skin when you aren't looking just to watch you squirm, will tease you relentlessly about just how sensitive you are, you'll never hear the end of it
- Will promise that if you cuddle up to watch a movie or something he'll keep his hands to himself, or at least his touches will just be soft and won't grow sexual, but he just can't keep that promise if his life depended on it
- when you two fuck he loves overstimulating you and he has the patience to drag that for a loooong time, will have you babbling and drooling before you even get to touch his cock
- If you let him, he'd really love to film you while he overstimulates your body, he wanna have your reactions recorded so he can watch it whenever he has to be away for a match
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highball66 · 5 months
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"I never make plans that far ahead"
I've talked before about how this scene is usually misunderstood and misinterpreted by fans--usually because they don't understand the context of the quote--but this scene is more than "Chris isn't being a dick to Leon." By this point, he's recognized that Leon was in a bad place, and this is Chris' way of extending the olive branch. In the novel, it's unclear if Chris gets Leon's "joke" or not (he's quoting this scene from Casablanca), but we're told that Rebecca understands.
On the surface, the quote can seem depressing if you don't understand the context behind it (mainly the fact that it's a movie quote), but it's less the content of the line and more about how Chris is using it. Leon's a movie buff, and it seems like Casablanca is is one he's particularly passionate about. He quotes almost Rick's full scene from memory, word for word in the novel-- that's not something you can do after just watching a movie once. So he's probably seen Casablanca multiple times and it's something relevant enough to him that he's going to quote that specific scene to Chris, which is interesting for a lot of reasons.
But when Leon asks how much longer they can keep going on like this, Chris is showing his support by engaging with something he knows interests Leon. He's supporting him, and Leon knows this because he smiles at the end. He'd been so gloomy throughout the majority of the movie because he was upset and hurting, but Chris brings up something he likes and makes a joke with it, and Leon genuinely smiles.
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What I find interesting is that out of all the quotes to pull from Casablanca, the writer went with the bar scene. One of these days I'm gonna have to write a shitpost/cracktheory about who's who from Casablanca in the RE universe, but in this scene particular, Leon sees himself as Rick and Chris as Yvonne. It's both funny and intriguing because in the movie, Yvonne is the drunk one. Regardless, Yvonne and Rick are ex-lovers-- Rick has a hard time opening up to people (which includes Yvonne) because he's been burned in the past (his relationship with Ilsa) so it was definitely an interesting choice for Vendetta with some interesting implications.
Also fun fact: the actor who plays Sascha (the bar tender) in Casablanca is Leonid Kinskey, which is kinda close to Leon Kennedy.
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leiflitter · 3 months
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Hello from Blighty thoughts about Saltburn
As a continuation from my reply to @armands-eyefuckery because BRAIN
Aight gang let's have a lil sit down because there is a big ol angle to the film that I think is getting missed by a lot of folks who aren't from the UK because it's a very uh...
British Thing.
IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT OLIVER IS FROM THE NORTH.
Cut because Length.
Now look. I am not going to go into Thatcher and Her Crimes, but it's worth a google. I do bring it up in You're Almost Home because...
Lots of people are saying Oliver is upper middle class, and honestly? That doesn't track for me. At all. Yes, his parents have a detached house in a nice suburb and they went on holidays, but there's a lot of Very British Context to them that I really want to point out. Also remember, it's 2006/2007. That is also important.
First of all- Oliver's parents probably never went to University.
Really listen to them. How gullible they are- they believe that Oliver can study at Oxford, and be on the rowing team, and be in plays, and be top scholar. He's always been so clever. If Oliver was anything near upper middle class, his parents would be educated professionals. Oliver probably has dockworkers not even three generations back- his dad has management vibes, but he probably worked his way up in the 70s when all you needed was a good attitude and not to be an obvious murderer.
Secondly- let's talk about the house.
As someone from Down South who has also lived Up North, Oliver's Parent's house would not have been as expensive as people think. Let's assume they bought it in the 1980s- we ALL know that house prices are through the roof NOW, but even today there is a huge gap between house prices in the south and the north. 200k down South might get you a one bedroom flat, if you're lucky. 200k in Prescot can get you a 4-bed, semi-detached HOUSE. Check rightmove.
It is also important that the house is relatively new-looking, because over here Upper Middle Class people aren't really into new build houses- if Oliver was upper middle class, he'd be living in something Victorian or Edwardian. Probably somewhere with a good link to London, especially in 2007. It also means that Oliver's parents may not have even bought it outright- my parents got on the housing ladder via a shared ownership scheme. Oliver's parents aren't rich.
Now, the holidays. Mykonos. Another fun Brit thing is the package holiday. Here's a pretty interesting article about them;
Two adults and three kids could absolutely have gone to Mykonos every year in the late 80s/90s for far less than you'd expect, especially if they paid in installments each month.
I also mentioned about Ollie being from Merseyside specifically, but again. CONTEXT. Although Oliver isn't Liverpudlian (it's important, he's from NEAR Liverpool but not Liverpool itself) the North of England as a whole has routinely been fucked over by those in power. The government AND the royals and the very wealthy. It's still ongoing today- again, another fun source.
Remember when Mr Eats-Crunchies-Sideways called him a Bootlicker? That's fucking IMPORTANT. To many folks he IS a bootlicker. He is highly unlikely to have been raised to grovel at the feet of those with hereditary titles and wealth, and honestly he doesn't. I've written before about how Oliver Denies Felix Things and how that dynamic is important. Oliver likely hasn't been raised with any real deference to The Rich (except Princess Diana).
It also effects Oliver's response to Felix, because goddamn it THATCHER again- it is HIGHLY likely that Oliver has lived through a lot of homophobia. Internalised a lot of it. Felix's parents do not give a shit, but that was not the norm. Again, tried to hit on it in YAH, because times have changed since the 90s/2000s and people change with them, but no fuckin wonder Oliver never responded to Felix chirpsing him like a maniac. He's fucking REPRESSED when he's in Oxford, pals. It also makes sense with that weird Tumblr Dom shit he pulls; he's still fuckin weird about it, he's just being In Charge so he doesn't need to be vulnerable in any way. He is only vulnerable for Felix, and even then he can't SHOW felix that, that would be gay.
Leiflitter over'n'out
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ollieapologist · 3 months
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Okay so I want to talk about performance and specifically the contrast between Oliver's actions while "performing" (ie - having an audience) vs. Oliver when he is alone. There are several instances of Oliver explicitly performing - when he embarrasses himself during karaoke, when he fails to perform with Felix's sloppy seconds, and when he fails to pay the tab at the restaurant; in fact, I'd argue that the entire film centers around Oliver's ability to "perform" and all the ways that these performances are consumed and then interpreted by the ultra-rich. We all know that the Oliver who Felix presents to his parents when he arrives at Saltburn is very far from the Oliver we watch unravel throughout the course of the film. His entire life's story is nothing more than a fabrication meant to be consumed and palatably digested by the Cattons and their cohorts. And it *works* VERY well for him....until it doesn't.
I've seen a lot of takes suggesting that Oliver wants to consume Felix, to absorb his entire essence and to hold Felix inside of himself. And while I wholeheartedly agree with that interpretation, I haven't seen as many people focusing on the fact that Oliver has a very deep and complex understanding of the reality that in order to consume the Cattons, he must first become palatable enough for them to believe they are actually the ones consuming *him*. Wealth is measured oftentimes by the accessibility and ease of consumption, both materially (freedom to eat any food, drink any wine, do whatever drugs, purchase any designer goods), as well as in ways that are less tangible (freedom to consume only narratives that are palatable to them, freedom to shy away from the consumption of things such as ugliness (hence Elsbeth being utterly afraid of ugliness bc she doesn't ever have to consume it!!!), war, poverty, etc). In the Cattons' world, the less than savory elements of existence have always been bundled up in a pretty package and served to them in a way that they are comfortable consuming - which is precisely what Oliver does. He picks up right away on the fact that Felix is kind of eating up his sob story about the drug addicted parents, impoverished home life, living in a world in which so many things are simply not accessible to him and Oliver revels in his ability to perform the *exact* role that Felix wants to consume - a beautiful, intelligent, humble, painfully polite vision of a man who just so happens to come from a heartbreaking background. Queue Felix and his family's desire to mend this version of Ollie. He is broken enough to need fixing and for the Catton's to *feel* as if they are doing something Real and Charitable by helping him, but he is still able to maintain their ultimately comfortable status quo of politeness, beauty, education etc.
There is also a massive amount of performance in Oliver's sexuality with others. Not his private sexuality, which I will discuss later here, but his performative sexuality. We see this in his vampire scene with Venetia and his sex scene with Farleigh. It's interesting because we don't see any evidence of his own enjoyment in either of these scenes, we as the audience, have no idea if he was really into it (put bluntly, we don't see his erection or any evidence of him getting off at all). These encounters serve purely to access power and manipulate the situation to his advantage and are therefore again, purely performative.
With all of that being said, it's also very interesting to see how Oliver behaves when he *isn't* performing his role for consumption in their narrative. When he isn't performing and being perceived/consumed by the Cattons, Oliver watches Felix fuck, drinks Felix's cum/bathwater, sobs and fucks Felix's grave, dances naked through Saltburn. It's interesting because almost every instance of Oliver in solitude, Oliver *not* performing, revolves around his consumption of Felix, his ultimately catastrophic desire to devour Felix and essentially own his essence, and his pleasure. Even in the dance sequence he blows that cunty little kiss at Felix's picture, almost as a thank you, "thank you for setting me free, thank you for the freedom to perform ONLY for myself here, thank you for letting me in enough that I never had to fully leave."
Idk this is a ramble!!! Just know I have thoughts!!! This isn't fleshed out enough!! Anyway, I just think it's interesting
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cowgurrrl · 1 month
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Dear Arkansas Daughter
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: A truce [2.8k]
Warnings: guilt, Andie being a menace, so much yearning, Ellie has an anxiety attack, comfort, June pushing her Mary Oliver agenda once again
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You don't speak to Joel all throughout the winter break. You get so busy with family events, work, and painting that you don't even notice it until a song he recommended comes on while you're working, and you reach for your phone to tell him about it. You stared at his contact for a little too long, debating your options, before you finally sighed and threw your phone on your bed. 
Sarah's home for the break. He's probably busy with the girls. The last thing he needs is to hear from you after you got out of his truck without even saying a proper goodbye. The silence feels like a staring contest or a challenge of wills to see who will break no contact first. It sucks, but thankfully, Ellie is none the wiser and even texts you Merry Christmas with a picture of her and Sarah with reindeer ears on the abnormally cold December morning. You reason this is the best-case scenario for a really shitty situation. No reason for anyone to get more involved than they absolutely have to, right?
Andie's reappearance on Texas soil is a welcome reprieve from the guilt. You pick her up from the airport once she gets back from visiting her parents in Dallas and run into her arms like she's a long-lost lover. "You're here!" You yell as you squeeze her tight.
"You're here!" She mimics. Her dark curls tickle your face, and she laughs loudly in your ear, but you don't care. Just having her within the same zip code again makes you feel like a kid. On the drive to your apartment, you sing along to a playlist she curated specifically for your time together— a perfect mix of Beyonce, ABBA, and Joni Mitchell— and talk about everything from her parents to work to Vienna weather. She takes all of five steps into your apartment before she guns for your newest canvases drying against the wall. 
"Those aren't done!" You scold but you couldn't stop her from fawning over them if you tried.
"Are you kidding? These are amazing." She says, gasping when she sees the corner of another one peeking out behind the stack. "Babe!" 
"Alright, alright, calm down. They're still in the early stages. They probably won't look anything like this when they're done." 
"You're right. I'm sure they'll be even better when they're done," she calls as you walk into your bedroom and drop her suitcase at the foot of the bed. You don't have a guest room, and there's no way you're gonna make her sleep on the couch, so you get to have a good old-fashioned sleepover again. You’re secretly really excited just to sit in bed and do nothing with her. When you walk back into the living room, she's holding an old, reworked painting with a fond smile. "Are you going to submit these for exhibition?" She asks, and you shrug as you lean against the back of the couch.
"I don't know. Maybe? They just don't feel done." 
"That's because the longer you stare at something, the more things you want to change about it." 
"It's not a bad thing to want to make sure something's perfect." 
"If you wait for perfection, you'll never make anything, and you know that." She says, cocking an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes at how well she knows you. "Isn't that what you tell your students?"
"Oh, God, please don't pull the teacher card on me right now. I'm supposed to be on vacation." You groan, and she laughs.
"Does it count as vacation if we have to go to the student showcase tonight?" She asks.
"Yes, it does because you're here, and I don't have to lecture a group of thirty teenagers about pointillism," you say. "And you really don't have to come. All I have to do is show up to support the kids for a couple of hours and leave. I'll be home before nine, and then we can go out and actually do something fun." 
"Is Hot Single Dad gonna be there?" She asks, waggling her eyebrows at you, and you give her a look.
"You said you'd stop calling him Hot Single Dad."
"Hot Single Dad is so fun, though," she whines. "Also, you're avoiding the question. Is he gonna be there?"
"Ellie's work is being shown, so yeah, most likely, but there will be lots of people there. I doubt we'll even see him." 
"Oh, I'll see him."
"Andrea Lynn," you scold, and she throws her hands up. "We're gonna go and be professional and not cross any lines that could get us in trouble, right?" You think you're saying it more for your own benefit than hers, but she still puts up three fingers and nods.
"Scouts honor." 
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The gallery's atrium is buzzing with conversation and excited kids from all across the district. The winter sun set long ago, but the warm lighting of the space makes it feel a little less oppressive. Small trays of refreshments make their rounds as you talk with other teachers and some parents you know. You introduce Andie to each of them, mostly to sing her praises about being a professional musician in Vienna, and she chatters away with anyone about anything. You easily kill half an hour just mingling with people before the exhibition officially starts.
At the hour, someone on the school board (you don't know their name or position, and honestly, you think it's too late to pretend like you care enough to find out) stands on a makeshift stage and says something about the importance of art in academia. You doubt it's a sentiment he actually shares, considering you've never seen him at any other art-related events, but you clap politely anyway. Halfway through his spiel, you just barely catch the sound of squeaky boots coming through the door and turn to see the source without fully thinking it through. 
There, through the crowd of heads, you lock eyes with Joel. Tommy and Ellie are at his side and wave politely. Sarah must've gone home before the New Year. You think you remember him saying something about her working at a clinic in Boston? You're a little disappointed you won't get to meet her, especially after hearing such amazing things, but you can't focus on that. Joel's eyes don't move from yours, even when Ellie and Tommy turn their attention to the speaker at the front. 
His hair has gotten long since the last time you saw him, the curls defiantly sweeping around his ears after an obvious attempt to tame it, and he looks well-rested. Despite the extra length of his hair, his beard has been recently trimmed and the salt-and-pepper stubble well maintained. He's wearing a nice dark green shirt (a Christmas gift?) and a well-broken-in denim jacket. He looks good. Of course, he does. Andie notices you're not paying attention and bumps your shoulder. 
"'S that Hot Single Dad?" She whispers, and you shake your head. 
"Not here." You beg. She seems to want to question you further about it, but she doesn't. You're sure she'll buy you a drink or two to loosen up after this and spill your guts. You sit through the rest of the speech without any more hiccups before you're finally allowed to view the gallery. 
Everyone is all smiles and excited chatter when you enter the colorful room. Thrilled parents take pictures of their kids next to their work, and proud art teachers point out their student's talents to others. There's a wide array of art. Anything from photography, drawings, paintings, sculptures, and even a video of a performance projected onto the wall. You catch bits of people’s conversations and hear a lot of chatter about the artist from your school. You don’t need any more context to know who they’re talking about. You and Andie walk side-by-side in silence as you look at the different works, only talking when you come across one of your kids' works. She makes you take a picture in front of each one, and you feel a little silly, but you can't fight the pride in your chest. 
Andie has always had the unique ability to celebrate you for things you wouldn't celebrate yourself for. In reality, all you did was push them to make the art and consult them through the process, but she reminds you that they might not even have made anything if it weren't for you. It makes you feel special and seen. It makes you wish she lived closer so you could do the same for her by showing up to performances and taking pictures of her in her element so she can cherish them. It makes you forget about Hot Single Dad until Tommy rushes up to you, calling your name. 
"Mr. Miller, it's good to see you." You greet politely, but he's out of breath and looks stressed as he looks at both of you. He softens when he sees Andie and takes a deep breath to pull himself together.
"I don't believe we've met," he charms and offers his hand to Andie. "I'm Tommy, Ellie's uncle." 
"I'm Andie, the forever teacher's pet," she shakes his hand and gives you a look over her shoulder. "Honey, you didn't tell me how handsome Ellie's uncle is." She says. Tommy smirks and looks flattered, but mentioning Ellie brings him back to the moment. 
"Ellie's askin' for you." He says, and you furrow your brows and look behind him.
"Where is she? Is she okay?" 
"She got real upset bout somethin' but wouldn't say. She just said she wanted to talk to you." Fuck, you think. Did she find out? If so, how? There's no way Joel would've told her, especially tonight of all nights. Is she upset about how her art is being shown? Is she mad at you? Possibilities run through your head and twist your stomach into knots, but you don't hesitate to follow Tommy. If she says she needs you, then you need to be there. 
Andie follows closely behind as you and Tommy weave through the crowd until you come to a stairwell off the side of the gallery, away from overlapping voices and bright colors. When the door creaks open and echoes through the empty space, you see Joel and Ellie sitting on a step, tears staining her face. Andie says something about hanging back, and Tommy agrees to wait with her, but all your focus is on the crying kid in front of you. You wait until the door shuts behind you to settle onto the step under theirs and pull Ellie's hand out of her balled-up fist. Joel watches you carefully but doesn't try to stop you. 
"Hey," you say gently, like she's a scared animal. "What's goin' on? I heard you wanted to talk to me." 
"I," she tries, but her voice catches in her throat, and more tears well in her eyes. You rub your thumb across her knuckles and shush her gently. 
"You're alright. Take a breath, okay?" She does, and Joel reaches out to rub her back soothingly. A few more tears fall down Ellie's face as you wait her out. You catch Joel's eyes over her shoulder, and he gives you a grateful look. All you do is nod. 
"I'm not good enough to be here," she finally gets out. "Everyone's work is so much better than mine, and I... I think they made a mistake. I can't compete." 
"That's not true. That's what your anxiety is telling you. That's not even close to the truth." You say firmly. She shakes her head as she looks at her dad.
"We shouldn't have even come." She says, and he pulls her under his arm, kissing her temple.
"Honey, they took your art for a reason. We're not here by accident. We're here because you worked hard and made somethin' so beautiful that they had to show it." 
"He's right," you say. "Hundreds of students apply for this exhibition every year, and every year, hundreds of students get rejected. But not you. You worked and earned your spot here. How many days did you show up early to my classroom to work on it, huh?" You ask, and she wipes her eyes. She seems to calm down a little at your words but still shrugs like she’s unsure of herself. 
"I don't know."
"Ellie, you were in my room for at least a month straight working on this. Somedays, you were painting before I even had a chance to turn on the lights. You got up early and stayed late, and it shows. You made something so wonderful the district couldn't keep it a secret. Do you know how many people are talking about your yellow painting?" 
"People were talking about it?" She asks, and you nod, squeezing her hand.
"They kept saying they'd be surprised if you didn't win, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your art teacher. I'm saying that because it's true." You say. She chews at her bottom lip and stares at her shoes as she thinks. 
You knew about Ellie's anxiety long before this moment. She's spent many planning periods in your classroom venting or crying about it, and you pointed her to the correct resources. She's in therapy and on medication to help her control it, but it still rears its ugly head every once in a while. With all the teenage emotions and daily battles, you're not surprised that it does. But it does surprise you that she can't see how special she is. She works so fucking hard— sometimes too much— and she gives her all in everything she does. Of course, people are going to recognize that greatness. Of course, she deserves to be here. Of course, she's going to be amazing.
"Every time I look at it, I just see all the bad things about it." She admits, and you sigh. Of course, she treats her work the exact same way you do.
"I do the same thing," you say, and she looks at you with wide eyes like she wasn't expecting you to actually cop to it. "It doesn't matter how much time I spend on it or if I like the concept; I will find a million things wrong with a piece before I can admit that it's a semi-okay piece of work. I have a canvas sitting in my apartment right now that makes me want to throw up every time I look at it." 
"How do you get over it?" 
"I'll let you know the second I figure it out," you say, and she smiles a little now that she knows she's not alone in her internal fight. "You deserve to be here, kid. You are hard-working, creative, and smart. You are going to make so much beautiful art in your life, you won't believe it. And it's true that it won't always be the best, and you won't always love it, but the thing all great artists have, regardless of medium, isn't talent. It's resilience. If you wait for perfection, you'll never make anything, so you have to keep going and making things even when you feel like it's bad because the world needs your art. The world needs you, Ellie." You say, echoing Andie's words from earlier. She takes a deep breath, and the weight on her shoulders seems lighter. Her anxiety rolls away like a wave from the shore. It will be back again and again, but she knows people are going to grab her before she can drown. She knows she's got lighthouses. She knows she's okay. 
"Thank you," she mumbles, and you nod as you squeeze her hand. She relaxes into Joel and looks up at him. "'M sorry."
"You've got nothin' to be sorry for, baby girl. I'm on your team," he says. He looks at you and chews the inside of his cheek. "We're both on your team." It's a peace offering. An end to the challenge. An acknowledgment that you can't ignore each other forever. You take a deep breath and let your free hand squeeze his calf where Ellie can't see, letting him know you know. 
You read a poem once in college about not being afraid of joy and taking advantage of the happiness while it's there. You remember reading the words "Joy is not made to be a crumb" and feeling your chest crack open in that funny way that only art can cause. It couldn't have been longer than two hundred words, and you read it so long ago you're surprised you even remember it, but you're glad you do. You're glad Joel and Ellie came into your life. You're glad you made so many memories with him, and you hope he'll let you in enough to make more as friends. You're glad you called the parent-teacher meeting when you did. 
You decide joy is not made to be a crumb, but neither is affection. In that cold, dingy stairwell in downtown Austin, you think you could paint something about this feeling. You think you could be okay with its imperfections. You think you could even submit it. You think you could win the bet.
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iamfitzwilliamdarcy · 11 days
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As a coda to my post from last night, this goes both ways for Zuko and Katara. We see Katara tell different boys about what happened to her mom - Haru is sympathetic and he gets it, but his dad is alive and he is, frankly, a pretty undeveloped background character, Jet is sympathetic too-- "Katara I'm so sorry"-- but then uses that to manipulate her into hurting innocent people, Aang is very dismissive (I'm sorry! he is! it's not his fault he had bad writers) and Zuko-- is the one to say exactly what she needed to hear.
In the Southern Air Temple:
Katara [Close-up of Katara.] Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. [Sadly.] They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people. Aang [Ponders over her words for a bit. Hopefully.] Just because no one has seen an airbender, doesn't mean the Fire Nation killed them all. They probably escaped!
This is the first time Katara has mentioned her mother to Aang, and he just completely skips over that comment. Obviously Katara's intent is to try to warn him, and Aang is optimistic because that is a pretty big horror, to think of your entire nation wiped out -- but he doesn't even offer a word of acknowledgment to her before skipping to his optimism.
The other time this is brought up with Aang specifically is the Southern Raiders. I'm linking to @catie-does-things 's excellent analysis here of how Aang's moralizing is both dismissive and immature.
Meanwhile, the first time Katara tells Zuko about her mother, they are still enemies, and he offers an olive branch -- "I'm sorry, that's something we have in common" -- and they're able to tentatively build up a trust around each other. That's of course betrayed, and leads to him trying to make amends in the Southern Raiders episode. This is when she tells him about how her mother dies (something, notably, she never tells anyone else in detail in the series), and he, very intuitively, says the exact thing she needs to hear:
Katara: But we were too late. When we got there, the man was gone. [Voice begins breaking.] And so was she. Zuko Your mother was a brave woman. Katara [Clutches her necklace.] I know.
Katara doesn't get this level of consolation from literally anyone else in the entire series. Her grief and anger isn't taken seriously by anyone else, not in this way.
So it's not only Katara doing the work in her relationship with Zuko-- Zuko is also very supportive of her, in a way that she needs and her canonical love interests are not
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bijoumikhawal · 7 months
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I've gotten tired of making a post like this every few months so let's just fire a few of these off, and feel free to add on! Tropes you should at minimum reconsider using when you write or talk about Julian Bashir:
Mentions of "harem" pants, "Arabian nights" aesthetics, etc. These are improper terminology (that feeds into racist ideas) for real things, and when using that terminology those things are often being misrepresented. For my part, if you would actually like to know about the material culture of the Middle East and North Africa, I'm a "hobby" researcher of that very topic and will readily answer asks about it- with the caveat that I mostly know about Egypt, and I'm not the best person to ask about Sudanese specific culture even though I know a little, and I don't know much about Indian or Pakistani fashion (mentioning because these seem to be the most common cultures brought up around Julian).
comparisons to monkeys, apes, the word "simian". This should be obvious but it happens a fair amount, and it's almost comedic given a common trope is to comment on how much Garak hates being compared to a lizard.
This is separate but the way some people use mammalian tips from writing xenofic and trying to understand how an alien would think and categorize things into something that feels very exoticifying. It's not a "full stop, do not do this" but it is something I've noticed
Jokes about how undesirable Julian is. He's the exception that proves the rule about fandom's obsession with white twinks and a rare example of a brown nerd who isn't pinned into the "Couldn't sleep with a woman if they were the last two people on earth" box. I'm not saying we can't make fun of how he flirts just- Stay clear of Raj BBT territory
Conversely: my most hated garashir trope is when the author makes Julian's libido a problem by making him inconsiderate, cruel, and outright manipulative in service of his dick, and the writing often makes it clear they're connecting this to his masculinity. Julian does do some really stupid shit when it comes to his relationships, but this particular way of trying to incorporate this into writing him is just OOC, and you need to not confuse writing Julian's canonical robust and healthy sex life with negative stereotypes about lecherous Black and brown men. There's fics that pull off Julian being a bit of a dick or manipulative well- such as Salt the Earth or the ageswap series (at least where I last left off on it).
making his eyes green or blue. I have the same eye color as Siddig, more or less, and while it's technically hazel (or olive, as some people call it) most people think it's brown and most lighting makes it look brown. If you look at screencaps of Julian, you'll notice it also most of the time, looks brown. This sounds minor if you haven't experienced it, but it has a real and very negative impact on people's self image.
Older one but to be clear: if you're writing Julian as explicitly Muslim, find and replacing "god" with "allah" in English text is not how Muslims (or Arabic speakers in general) use the word? It is really funny to read, but please...
Over focusing on Julian as British. There's a long, LONG conversation that could be had about the dynamics of assimilation and how European racism (ime) very specifically views it as progressive to strip people of their culture and thinks they're causing the problem if they don't go along with it that would need its own post and which I've had with white fans before and feel exhausted thinking about- but to put it simply, there is no such thing as "just British", even for white Englishmen.
Yes the inverse is also wrong but I really haven't read a fic newer than 2014 guilty of that lmao and I think some of the more recent complaints about it are overblown, given I've read only a few fics recently published that delve into Julian as a Brown/African Person and I enjoyed them
I would personally appreciate it if fic writers were a little more balanced about cultural discussions honestly. If you write a lot about Cardassian culture, it'd be nice if Julian’s background was discussed. I won't say that kind of research is easy (again, I do this as a "hobby" that's very important to me, it's actually really annoying and difficult sometimes), but it is possible. I recently talked about how not doing this kind of mentally slots Julian into a "white guy" role.
This is not a matter of me policing your "artistic expression". I have no control over what you do. I would just like for fandom, a hobby I do for fun, to be a place where people stop being racist in a way that directly impacts me.
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shyrose57 · 7 months
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Hey, uh, where's my Pirates SMP Fic where Scott's crew gets a quest to transport the Runeblade somewhere?
Where's my story where they're all out at sea for an unforeseeable time, sailing to distant lands, trapped on the ship with a sword they don't realize is more than it seems until it's far too late to turn back. Trapped with memories they don't know what to do with, and ghosts they never meant to invite onboard.
Scott sets the sword beside his bed, wrapped in it's careful cloth per the specific instructions from the harried collector. It's tucked away carefully, more carefully than even he is prone to, for reasons he can't explain.
Is that care why he wakes choking in the night, spitting up blood, and reaching out hands to yank the blade from his chest only to realize nothing is there, and the thick crimson spilling from his mouth has left no stain?
Is that why the pale dried petals in one of the many books on board slip into red and reform into a flower being tucked behind his ear, by a man in blue, a man in green, a man wearing a wedding ring. He thinks my husband before he thinks stranger, except when he goes to stand nobody is there, and the petals are still tucked between the pages.
Cleo eyes it warily, when it's brought aboard, but thinks nothing more of it, and maybe her carelessness is why she doesn't pay attention when the first flashes begin, just the barest hint of color shifting in the corner of her eye that she passes off as a trick of the light.
Then she turns her head and finds Scott's sprouted fins at his head, red streaked in his hair. A faceless figure behind him raises their sword, and she shrieks and slams into them, only to fall through and tackle her captain instead.
She leans back against the mast, and green flashes beside her, a toothy grin she smiles back at, a name on the tip of her tongue dying as Olive's face comes into focus, smile much softer, and the moss she swore made up their coat vanishes. She can't remember who else she thought it was going to be. She thinks it was someone she would've died for.
Owen has other priorities, and unless he's asked, he doesn't see the need to worry about it. And then, she spills some expensive wine he'd sweet-talked from a Kestrel's hands on the ground, and the exasperation is, for a moment, overwritten by terror. The liquid darkens and the scent of iron makes him reel back for a single moment, before she blinks and it's just....wine again.
He stumbles his way to the ship's side, not nearly drunk enough to wash away the unease in his heart, and double takes at her reflection, now blond and boyish, a warm brown jacket tucked around them tight in the chilly air. Someone calls her name behind him, except it's not his name, it can't be, so fundamentally wrong when the boy staring back at her would never know it was supposed to be his. It takes Water's hand at his shoulder before she responds.
Olive thinks the sword is curious, but that's the extent. Until, at least, the world wobbles under their feet, and the door to the captain's cabin suddenly seems impossibly tall, how are they possibly meant to get in there, they can't reach-
It's utterly nonsensical. It keeps happening. The ship lurches, their heart flutters in terror, for surely they'll be tossed into the walls, and they shake to realize they somehow stayed on their feet. Cruppy prods at their hands, concerned at their behavior, but it's not Cruppy, it's something else that's edges fade too fast for them to grasp. A shadow looks wrong along the ground, and it lunges for them, and they almost goes overboard trying to get away from some phantom that isn't there.
Eloise blinks back sleep from her eyes, not even thinking of the sword in the midst of her crew's strangeness, up until an absolutely beautiful shark swims beneath their boat, and the whole crew watches in quiet appreciation. She spins on her heel, goes to spill forth something that she knows in her heart will be just as pretty but the words don't come out how she wants them to, falling like flat notes in an off-tune song, and she's not even sure what she was trying to do when it's done.
She splits her hand cleaning a sword, and opens her mouth to call for Cleo, even though Owen is mere feet from her and already going for the bandages. The words catch in her throat anyway, when she sees her there with Scott, and the sunlight spins across orange locks turned greenish-ebony, and a tattered overcoat becomes a gorgeous, elegant dress that has no place on a pirate ship, and-and she averts her eyes trying to make sense of the sudden wish to be half as strong as the strangers that had stood where her friends were as Owen helps wrap her hand.
Water dreams. Oh, how she dreams. She dreams of a world where a single red heart hums on her wrist, and knows with a terrible sureness that she won't come back should she misstep here. But that means little, not when the warm earth beneath her fingers settles there so beautifully. Not when the food she pulls from the earth is so ripe, waiting to be torn into and devoured.
She wakes up, and steps from her bed, half-expecting the world to fall out from under her where it flashes gold for a moment, and stumbling for it. A phantom weight twitches at her back, and she greens at the smell of the sea for one, strange second, wondering where the flowers are. She comes back to herself, and tries to shake it off.
They all try to shake it off.
Scott's eyes are not green, or yellow, or red. He makes no noise when Cleo slams him to the floor with a protective snarl, aiming for some opponent no longer there to strike him. He waits for Owen to blink back to herself, and realize Scott cannot do whatever it is he thinks he can, does not know magic the way she sometimes is assured he does. And they quietly disperse the phantoms they catch him begging to in the night without a word, correct him when he inquires after a different brother than the one he has, half-asleep.
Olive is not small. But they are not shoved off when they desperately grasp at Eloise's arms, or tries to steady themselves against Water, when the world seems too big. And they take Water's hands when she scrabbles for the deck, digging at wood until it bloodies her hands, holding them until the other remembers they are at sea. When Eloise grabs for something that isn't there, and goes to jump ship at a flash of pink in the water, Olive pulls her back, and calls her name until she knows herself again.
They try to shake it off, and they utterly fail.
The Runeblade leaves it's mark. Even once it's tossed to it's next owner at their destination by Scott's too cold hands. The dreams fade, but still sit, waiting for them to doze and come awake crying out. The ghosts fall back to the corner of their vision, stepping forward when they make the mistake of wavering, with names they shouldn't know on their lips, and promises none of them ever managed to keep spilling forth.
Give the story, where a wretched quest changes them at their cores in a way they never anticipated.
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nippleplayer0 · 8 months
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🎧 :: Best friends brother ?!?!
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AKITO x READER
How do you sneak around Ena, your best friend, just to see her hot brother ?
The Shinonomes. Renowned Artists as their father, Sweet caring mother, and two, surface level, polite young kids.
Keywords : Surface Level.
Being best friends with Ena Shinonome since middle school, you know her the best as a moody, typical, teen girl. And you wouldn't change that for the world !! She is your best friend for a reason.
Now, Akito Shinonome; He was an interesting one. You could tell as soon as you met him during your first hang out with Ena in middle school that his Polite Boy persona was definitely not the true personality of a Shinonome.
You also knew immediately that you had it bad for him.
It was wrong, yes ! Your best friend's brother but.. what she doesn't know can't kill her, riiiiight ..?
He had a taller and more muscular build despite being the younger of the two. Wonderful hair like the color of the sunset, and olive eyes that if you had the chance to talk about and never shut up about them, you could easily go on for eternity.
Despite how cool and polite he seems, you didn't fail to notice how every time his older sister's best friend came over, a slight pink dusted his cheeks. You noticed how he was nicer to you than her other friends, you noticed how he was more jokey with you, giving up on his persona more. You noticed how his sparkling eyes lingered on you more, you noticed how he'd fight Ena to hang out with you two, even though he'd usually rather do anything but hang out with Ena.
You noticed it all, and he knew you noticed.
But hey, it's not like he didn't notice how you acted either !! How you were just as eager to hang out with him as you were with Ena. How you also greeted him with a hug that was just a little too long. And god, did he notice how you looked at him as if he was something just out of reach-- Something you wanted, but weren't sure if you could have.
Now, in highschool, you've grown only more fond of the Shinonome son.
Everyone but Ena noticed. And you and Akito were determined to keep it that way.
Meeting up in the bathroom at 1:am at sleepovers to sneak some kisses, meeting up at lunch during school and talking. Using alt accounts to message each other so Ena wouldn't notice you as shared mutuals.
Sending risky, romantic texts in the same room as Ena. Her questioning why you were smiling at your phone so much, just for you to quickly switch your tab and show her something else.
While greeting him with a hug, placing the quickest, faintest kiss on his cheek or shoulder.
When Ena looks away, quickly squeezing each other's hand, and interlocking them for just a second.
When she's at her night classes, going on small dates and walks, pretending for a moment that you don't have to be so secretive about how you feel about each other.
Ena noticing small gifts or flowers in his room, and asking where he got it; She never gets a response.
She notices a specific keychain on your backpack, it doesn't seem like your style.. almost more like something akito would have ? Hold on.. isn't that his ?
"What ? No, my friend gave it to me."
"Ah.. for a second I thought it was Akito's."
"Don't be silly, a lot of guys our age like that kinda stuff, a guy friend of mine gifted it to me."
"Ah, I see."
You two noticed each other, but that doesn't mean Ena needs too ~ ♡
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