#(probably? ill put it in the tag so ill be able to find it)

[russellius]

Quiz Time with George

[its-no-biggie]

yeah thats what im saying though! saiki cant be SURE that his friends will react well to his real self, but hes ready to TRY. hes ready to show them that hes NOT normal and trust that theyll still love him anyway. yes, textually this is only about him revealing his powers to them, but you said yourself that hes only comfortable showing his real personality around people who know about his powers. surely it follows that he would similarly open up with his other friends once they know.

and yeah, they only know/like saikis normalsona, but i always interpreted it as they like saiki IN SPITE of his normalsona. like teruhashi at the mixer- her line goes "i wish saiki were here..... though, i guess he would just sit in the corner with a blank expression on his face." like she wants to see saiki, first and foremost, and then remembers that he doesnt really talk and might bring the mood down. but thats okay, she still just wants to spend time with him. and like, one thing you mentioned in the tags is that neurotypical people can tell somethings off when talking to a masking autistic person. so wouldnt it follow that saikis friends can tell something is off with saikis mask? there are a few lines that even allude to this- hairo constantly saying he thinks saiki has a great power that hes holding back (true), or that time someone (kaidou?) goes "i always got the sense that saiki was protecting us" (also true). sure, they dont believe hes a psychic, but thats because they dont even believe psychic powers are REAL. theyre probably all aware, on some level, that saiki isnt being completely honest with them. why else would they so readily agree with nendou when he said it was fine to hide things and keep secrets? theyre fine with him being quiet and closed off. theyre willing to wait until hes ready to open up.

and like. its explicitly shown that his friends do want to see his real self. at the wrong-birthday, when they were concerned that he wasnt acting like himself, it wasnt actually about how he was acting- they were worried that he was forcing himself to act in a way they would like better. they want him to feel comfortable enough around them to act authentic, without being worried how they would feel about it. and yes, im well aware that people say this in real life and then still react poorly to your authentic self. but a) this is fiction and its allowed to be a little idealized. b) saikis friends are all also weird misfits. he will fit right in with them no matter how strange his true personality is. and c) they do really and truly mean it. theyre not just saying it for woke points or because they feel entitled to see his authentic self. they really want him to be comfortable being himself around them, because they love him. and it pays off because he DOES eventually open up!

and yeah, we dont get to see it. yeah, it took a long time. yeah, it may be short lived since theyre going off to college soon. but i think its beautiful anyway! i think its a really good and happy conclusion to a long, slow, realistic journey of self acceptance. thats just my opinion, of course, and im sure a lot of this is also me projecting. youre absolutely entitled to your interpretation and i do see where youre coming from! it just doesnt come across like a tragedy to me personally

How Saiki wants to be perceived:

Not at all. He's just generic mob character #7536, thanks.

How Saiki's friends perceive him at first:

Projection Central... Depending on the person, he's a scaredy-cat, romance novel protagonist, former punk, flustered fanboy, a slacker who just needs some inspiration to become a sports star, etc...

How Saiki's friends perceive him at the end of the series:

Quiet, a little glum, kinda boring, but a good guy. Says "good grief" a lot.

How the Psychickers perceive him:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

How Saiki ACTUALLY IS:

Sarcastic, stubborn, tsundere, a little childish, back-talker supreme, confident, a bit arrogant even, incredibly intelligent, lonely, silly, uptight, a soft touch, kind.

-> Only the Psychickers (and to some extent, his family) know and appreciate Saiki for who he actually is by the end of the series.

That's because Saiki is only ever comfortable revealing his true personality once the other person knows about his powers.

Until then, he will always try pretending to be a passive nobody, unless he thinks it can get a girl off his back (ex. against Teruhashi at the arcade, against Imu in the locker room).

Saiki remains nervous about telling his friends about his powers despite seeing it go off without a hitch in the alternate universe, and despite losing his powers first, because his friends might not like his "new"/actual personality.

We see early on in Kuboyasu's introduction that Saiki fears his relationships with his friends are fake because they're based on a huge lie and an even bigger pretense. We see that anxiety about his personality/persona not being palatable enough at the wrong-day birthday party. We see him mourn the fact that he can't be his real self at the mixer.

THAT is the great tragedy of Saiki K, that almost none of the people he loves actually know him in any meaningful way, not even by the end of the series!

[hazbinhappy]

Hello, could you write for Husk with a wife reader who comes to visit him at the hotel since she misses him? She’s also a cat demon with a very similar personality to him, and when she visits the hotel, it’s the main casts first time they’ve ever heard of her, except Alastor. Also, the reader hates Alastor because he owns her husband’s soul.

A/N: I love these requests when I see them in his tag :) i think she'd have an opposing/inverse look to him

I have a feeling when alive his wife was a sweetheart, but a touch one while he was prideful gambler

She’s the one who handled the finances once it hit bad she wanted them and their kids to still be able to live so he had an allowance

Anyways, she died probably from terminal illness later in life post-Husk’s death, I don’t think she’d have gone down without a fight

For the why she's in Hell? Idk them having their first kid outta wedlock? Something stupid I assure her because Husk complained a lot in his earlier days about not having you and how you’re probably in heaven

Now when she did arrive in Hell only a decade or so after Husk, he was her first find

Life was fine with an overlord husband, but she definitely chastised him for when he lost all of the souls he had and his own

He still was able to do what he wanted so they stuck together, but when he disappeared and she couldn’t find him she got worried

She’d never think to check that shitty broken down hotel….but the lights are on? What- is that Husk in a commercial for this hotel?!

She immediately stomped her way there and knocked harshly at the door

She didn’t smile, even when met with the face of the sweet princess of Hell

She pushed her way in immediately scanning the lobby, looking for Husk

Alastor scares the shit out of her when he comes out of the shadows

She starts to go off on him about taking her husband and hiding him from her for the last week

Alastor rolls his eyes and simply pointed towards the bar

As much as she didn’t like him, he didn’t like her and tried to keep their conversations short (he wasn’t able to break her down like he did with Husk, but he owns Husk)

When they reunited it was…. Well she was happy and hugged him, but immediately got angry at how he didn’t put his phone to use at all (I headcanon that he’s shit with technology and if he uses his phone it’s for calls, texts, and playing like solitaire or gambling games)

But after all the anger passed people had questions! Except Alastor, she was there when he took Husk’s soul (embarassinggggg)

Husk doesn’t reveal much about himself EVER to people (only Angel knows he used to be an Overlord)

She’s the more open one out of them

Think of Rosie, but just more… idk tough? Mix Rosie and Husk and that is what I think his wife would be like

So she doesn’t reveal too much, but she definitely is more open, but just as vague

Vaggie doesn’t have too many questions, but everyone else does (Mainly Charlie, but Angel isn’t too far behind with the questions)

So far, everyone just knows they’re married and that Husk is definitely a sweetie behind doors

I think Angel and Nifty are really the only too who knows a bit more about them and that’s because they remind her of their kids (in a world where I don’t ship HuskerDust)

[dearunreliablenarrator]

I'm here, queer, and highly likely to disappear*; but here's a very unreliable introduction to this narrator.

Hi, I'm Saturn (for now at least, i think.)

I'm a black 20-something year old writer with a imagination that happens to be active at the wrong times. When I'm not writing, you'll find me struggling through classes and holding my cats in air jail for chewing on my clothes. and you probably thought a college dorm dryer was bad...

I often use music as a progression for my writing, using it to build the personality and lifes of my characters, cause I think you can tell a lot about a person with the type of music they listen to. This goes the same for food, whether they're cooking (or lack thereof), eating (which there'll a lot of and not just food), just for the sake of storytelling. Cause food can tell a story too!

You'll also see the use of Sims4 in these posts, there's nothing better to me than to be able to build my world from the ground up even if it is tedious. I often burnout myself out between both writing and building so its nice to be able to switch between the two! here's a small character visual as a start!

it's also nice to watch my characters evolve real time, they tend to outgrow some things faster than i can keep up.

As a current researching and scrappy practitioner, you will see hints of practical magic(k)/workings/information in my works. Influences from traditionally african american practices will be underlying themes in this world of mine; within my scope of course. How my characters navigate through a world that is both mundane and spiritual is something they'll have to overcome in all aspects; and how they affect future lives and timelines is all hanging on the fading tradition of storytelling.

follow, share, and embrace their stories; because there's only one way to keep them alive.

as for what i write or rather my niche: the unreliable multiverse

genres: (comp) (hist) (queer) romance, urban/southern horror, urban fantasy, and apocalyptic sci-fic.

topics/tropes: religious deconstruction, religious trauma, witchcraft (mundane, practical, scrappy, cultural, A(A)TRs.) anti-racism/racism,politics, social structure,found family, star-crossed lovers, childhood friends to lovers, ancestral/familial secrets, morally-grey protagonists,coming of age, the anti-christ, HEA, small town horror, mental illness/disorders, philosophy.

for some these topics may be a lot, and while i want my writing to be a source of escapism...fiction will always be influenced by reality, and that is something that will be in my writing (just not to the extremes), expect CW and TWs but they will not always be there.

CURRENT WIPs: the big three

Where The River Bends:

Bored of modern romance and her own life, Elaine Brown suffers from being a daydreaming, skeptical, hopeless romantic. In a plead to the Universe to grace her with a new addition to her routine, she finds herself stumbling into spell unlike her very own. Warren Soo has be dreaming of a life where days can feel like a breath of fresh air. When a random chance driven by his choices puts him in the space of unsuspecting Elaine, he can't help but be bewitched by the ease in which her days go by. Together, they navigate the modern world of romance with just the sprinkle of magic.

theme song

tag: #goddamnitsamson

Aletheia:

Sanctum, place of human design created to preserve those who survived the last of nature's destruction. When humanity was suddenly reckoned with the damage of over creation they are forced to pick between two things.

Stay or leave.

For those that had the ability to leave, Sanctum embraced them with open arms; promising a generational haven within their walls. Here, the people are communities; removed from the worries of past plagues and mortal insecurities. But all peace must follow order.

Questioning the world she's grown in , Emilia Porter has wanted to escape the stone boundary of Sanctum. Taking a chance to explore the land beyond, she registers for the Vanguard; the exploration and task forces that protect and serve the lasting stand of humanity.

Now away from the containing hands of those who seek perfection, she must weigh the truths; both tailored and unwritten.

theme song

tag: #findthetruthyouseek

Cherries Under The Sun:

A southern gothic horror that follows Grace Davis even in her dreams. Stuck in a constant cycle of despair, Grace often finds herself living in a loop of a forgotton past, wondering about the should've, would've, and could haves of her life. When her small college town of Marietta is shaken by a rise in missing cases, her hollow world soon becomes a flash of white papers and bloody lines. Now that her daily life of being ignored comes to halt and the lives of those around her are blurring together, they must now find a way to get their world back to normal. Before it is erased altogether.

theme song; intro; taglist

tag: #howsweettheesound

I don't know what else to put here, but that my characters are much like myself. Weird, witchy, creepy, romantic, sensitive,sarcastic, inquisitive (that's a big word for elmo), and a range of clumsy that only a handful of people can enjoy sooo...

IF you've found me or my wips to be interesting, please feel free to follow, ask a question or comment. Thanks for reading all this and from reader to another, create the book you've always wanted to see. Edison out!

i also don't really know how taglist work but if you wanna here's where to keep up! #theunreliableverse

1.* psst...you can find me and (to be)published works here!

[silly-little-soul]

Shane accepting himself as a dad

A/N – “Little” thought dump I wrote at the hairdresser today, I'll probably continue it when I find the time

I haven't played sdv in forever cause I can't find the charger of my switch I miss it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fandom: Stardew Valley (Shane x gn!Reader/Farmer)

Summary: Thoughts on the lead-up to Shane and Jas moving in with you

Tags: established relationship, tbh reader appears like thrice maybe, some fluff, some angst, some reverse comfort, no beta we die like my activity

Warnings: Some talks about alcoholism and mental illness cause it's Shane, a shit lot of miscommunication, brief talk of Shane and Farmer having own kids, death mention

Note: It got too long so I didn't get to the part where reader/farmer would've been more prominent so this is very focused on the dynamic between Shane, Jas and Marnie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thinking about how in the game when you marry Shane he doesn't take Jas with him

I wish she could live on the farm with you, but let’s actually look at that scenario and Marnie's place in it

Shane is Jas’ official caretaker, but with how his mental health and alcohol consume used to be he definitely wasn’t able to fully take care of her, I’m guessing Marnie did most of that. Like Shane DOES really care for her and did what he could, it just wasn’t enough when he got worse. Simultaneously he saw Marnie care for her the way he wished he could've and it just seemed so effortless (it wasn’t, she was just grieving differently). It made him feel like he could retreat from his parental role, have Marnie take it and stop himself from pulling Jas down with him, he didn’t want to be selfish and put her well-being at risk just to be the one playing parent.

Honestly, he was probably right in that decision, he couldn’t have fully cared for a child.

But it’s different now, he’s better now, he’s ready.

He starts spending more time with her again, no longer feeling like he’s a risk to her, no longer being so ashamed. He takes on tasks like making lunch and bringing her to bed more often.

He doesn’t even notice it until Jas, Marnie or you point it out, might write a scenario for that at some point but let’s move on for now

Anyway, he realizes he’s taken the role of a parent for her. And then you give him the mermaid pendant, and he’s so happy that everything is slowly working out.

When he comes home and tells Marnie she is quick to pull him into a tight hug, she’s so happy he’s managing to really turn his life around.

Jas is so so excited, asking when they'll move to the farm

Shane wants to have her come right with him, he's talked to you about it and you were quick to tell him you'd be happy to have her, but he realizes he should really talk to Marnie about that first.

So they kinda just redirect her question.

Later though they sit together and talk about the upcoming change of Shane's living situation.

At Shane’s declaration of wanting to take Jas right with him, Marnie is hesitant and gently suggests that might not be the best idea.

Shane believes it’s because Jas has become a daughter to her, something he actively pushed to happen by making her take all responsibility for the little girl (and for him too, actually), and he figures he doesn’t really have the right to take Jas from her after she has been the one taking care of her for so long.

Except that isn’t the reason at all. Marnie has never seen herself as Jas’ mom. She loves Jas a lot of course and she’ll surely miss her a lot once she moves, but she has never not seen Shane as the one to be Jas’ new parent.

She wants this for both Shane and Jas, but she’s just so worried. She’s seen Shane at his worst and all that has lead up to it, seen him almost get better but then fail again more often than she’d like to have.

She’s honestly more worried about Shane than Jas. What if Shane takes on too much responsibility at once? His new role as a husband, the changes that come with living on the farm, and then he'll also be fully responsible for Jas? She's worried he'll end up feeling overwhelmed and get worse again. And then if Jas sees it this time, oh gosh... (Okay, maybe it is about Jas)

Now bear with me it's about to get a little confusing

Shane doesn't know that's the reason, Marnie doesn't tell him outright to not upset him.

So when she brings up the hint of “are you sure? She can stay here some longer too” he thinks it's because of her relationship with Jas and he's just like “yeah y'know maybe that works” because he doesn't want to take Jas from her after making Marnie take care of her so long, however she thinks it's because he really does think it'd be too much at once.

So they're like “okay good talk” and go their ways and while Marnie is like “okay cool I'll help some more till he feels able to care for her fully” Shane is knocking on your door having half a breakdown like “I fucked up I'll never get to take on the role of her father”

On a side note, he went to the farm and not the saloon, and both of you have a brief moment of gratitude for the fact so let's take a second to appreciate him for that too

Alright, he has been appreciated

But yeah, I kinda hc their communication isn't great in general. It's not for lack of trying (not anymore, it used to be a factor when Shane wasn't doing well) or something causing arguments, it's more so a thing where the two talk and then think everything is fine when they in reality have talked past each other so hard.

It's usually silly, small stuff like chores or something and resolved with a quick clarification and doesn't cause issues – except this time it did.

Anyway, he's at your doorstep, kinda having a breakdown.

You let him in of course, get him some water, gently tell him to calm down and tell you what happened.

His explanation is not very coherent, consisting mainly of him repeating how he fucked up, it might very well spiral into a full on panic attack.

Shane's not usually someone to panic but this is about Jas, who is the most important thing in the world to him, not to forget the only way he knew how to cope is kind of gone.

After a while he manages to explain what's going on more clearly, how he so badly wants to care for Jas the way he should have from the start, but he can't because he made mistakes he can't fix, how Marnie has taken that role and is entirely reasonable in wanting to keep it.

Then he breaks down again.

You don't really know what to do, he's in a terrible state, and what can you say? If the situation was truly how Shane presented it (which you assumed of course) there wouldn't really be much you could do to help.

You end up calling his therapist, he's against the idea at first but caves at your pleading look.

He's put you in situations in which you had to try help him with no idea how to before, hell he's made you fear for his life with this kind of bullshit before! He doesn't want you to go through that again.

In the beginning you sit with him, help explain to his therapist what happened, let Shane lay his head on your chest while talking to her.

When after a while he is much calmer you go make his favorite dinner, waiting for him to finish the phone call.

They make an appointment for Saturday and Shane hangs up, wordlessly coming over to you and letting himself fall into your arms. You have dinner and go to bed, deciding it's better for him to stay with you tonight, and maybe also the next few day. You'll figure out how to go on about this on Saturday.

Meanwhile Marnie has no idea about all of this and tells Jas about the decision (she thinks) they made, how Shane will move to the farm but needs some time to “settle in” as she calls it, and then Jas can move there too later on.

She's bummed about not getting to come along right away but is generally okay with the idea, not much bothered.

This whole misunderstanding is only really revealed when Jas and Shane cross parts the next time. This could be several days later, or the next one which I'm gonna go with.

Unfortunately for Shane, Jas was already planned to come to the farm that day to “help” (aka pet your animals) so she shows up there in the morning and it's. A bit awkward. Not that she'd notice, though.

Inevitably the topic of Shane moving to the farm comes up. It's in bypassing, it doesn't really matter how, but it causes even more chaos.

She says something about how she'll miss him when he moves to the farm, which feels like a punch in the gut to him, cause he doesn't even know she just means in the short while till he gets her over there too.

He tries not to let it show in front of her, it's not her fault, so he tries to play over his reaction by saying something along the lines of “I'll miss you too, but you and Marnie can come visit. If the farmer and me start a family you can come over and-”

And like damn. Not the best thing he could've said in that situation.

Cause up until just know she thought she was coming after him like a month or something later!

Jas' eyes fill with tears and she has such a look of betrayal on her face Shane doesn't even finish his sentence.

“You don't want me here?”

And he's just like fuck lol

In retrospect he doesn't actually know what Marnie told Jas and how she explained the decision to her. Thinking about it she probably didn't exactly go “Hey actually Shane used to be a good for nothing alcoholic so I decided I'm your mom”

But wait, does Jas want to stay with him on the farm?

Because yeah wait!! He did not consider that and how she feels about this.

Meanwhile Jas is now also a victim of the miscommunication between Marnie and Shane (aren't we all?)

Before Shane can think of something to say she's bolting, running back home.

You - who watched the interaction happen - and Shane go after her, coming to the ranch to find Jas crying in her bed with Marnie sitting next to her and trying to coax her into explaining what happened. When she sees you she moves away from her, figuring you two must have a better idea of what's going on.

Shane takes Marnie's place and asks Jas why she's crying.

She looks up at him with a heartbreaking expression and says “You said you'll start a family, but what about me?” (not rlly like that but I suck at dialogue)

And Shane is like “Marnie is your family”

I love him but.... shut up, Shane!!

That blow was so hard both you and Marnie could feel it!

In his defense, he realizes that was dumb as fuck like immediately after.

“I mean... fuck, she's been a mom for you so long, way more than I ever was, I can't just take you away now”

And Marnie stiffens cause like that's the moment it starts dawning on her something didn't go quite right in their earlier communication. And then you notice her reaction and it starts dawning on you as well and you kinda just look at each other like “oh shit”.

Which Shane and Jas are completely unaware of.

“She's not my mom! I don't want her to by my mom”

And Jas is honestly really irritated by Shane's interpretation of their family dynamic because yeah Marnie has taken care of her a long time and she's really close to her of course but she still never saw her as something other than her aunt, just like Marnie always considered Jas her niece.

“Why don't you want to be my dad?”

It's sort of a breaking point for all four of you.

For Shane it feels like in a matter of seconds he's reliving every moment since the day Jas' parents died. They chose him as the one who'd take in Jas if something happened to them. They could've decided on Marnie, but they didn't. In that moment he realizes that maybe his fear of this parental role he really did want to take not being rightfully his was never about Marnie to begin with.

At the same time, Marnie and you decide to finally intervene. She gently pulls him towards the door, telling him they have to talk, meanwhile you sit with Jas to comfort her.

You let her climb into your lap and hug her, just holding her and waiting for Marnie and Shane to finish talking, until she speaks up again quietly

“Do you not want me on the farm?”

And you're of course immediately telling her you do!! You want her there, you consider her family and she goes “I think Shane doesn't” and like no he does!! He's just stupid!

Except you don't say that to her of course cause don't say that to her.

Meanwhile Marnie is torn between hugging Shane because man he's apparently spent years thinking he has no place as her parent and scolding him cause how the fuck did he spend years thinking he has no place as her parent.

It ends up being the scolding (gently though, she does get where he was coming from).

She explains everything to him, from exactly how she feels about Jas to what she meant when she suggested to have Jas stay with her.

“You're her father now. Her parents chose for you to be and she did too. You're her dad, and nothing you or I do can change that”

And it's wild because he realizes he has always refused those titles. He always talked about his parental role or his role as a father, yeah, but he's never dared call himself her dad. But he is, isn't he?

They have a long talk and Shane learns his place in the family was never a question, while Marnie has her anxiety over Shane taking on too much at once calmed.

They settle on Jas staying at the ranch on weekdays and the farm on weekends for the first month, so he can settle and you can get used to having a child around all the time. After that she'll move to the farm entirely, with the promise to have her stay at Marnie's a bit if Shane ever feels like it's too much for him.

He goes back to Jas' room to explain everything to her and tell her she'll of course come along to his new life.

And when he opens then door he sees you sit with Jas – with his daughter - in your arms, petting her hair comfortingly and he's like yeah.

That's his family.

[r1poutmygvtz]

longgg ramble/vent/whatever's on my mind, idk man i'm tired and should probably schedule another therapy appointment soon

also this is kinda just all over the place, idk my thoughts are kinda scattered rn for some reason

(tws: mental health talk, sh, suicide attempts, od mention, ed, body issues, weed + alcohol talk, medicine misuse, childhood abuse, pet + family death mentions, possibly more idk if i missed one lmk and i'll tag it and put it up here)

my mental health right now is so fragile i don't understand, like obviously i know i'm depressed, i've been diagnosed for nearly two years now but i should've been much earlier, maybe that's why it got so bad, i don't even remember why i was diagnosed tbh, i think it was my first time back after like a year and a half maybe two years of not being in therapy and obviously a lot of shit happened, in that time that i went without therapy i tried to kms three times, had an alcoholic phase, and got addicted to weed

it was also sometime around my birthday i believe, which would make sense on why i got diagnosed, im always super depressed around my birthday, i mean i was expelled on my 13th, my great grandma died the day after my 14th and the day after that i tried to kms and that was the most traumatizing one and it took me over 2 years to be able to take the meds that i od'd on again without freaking out, i was literally so high i can't even remember my 15th, 4 days before my 16th i graduated (horrible for me, i had a panic attack everyday leading up to it for like 2 weeks straight) and 2 days after that my cat that i had since my 12th birthday died, so there's literally nothing enjoyable about my birthday and it feels more like a curse than anything

anyways, i've been the same since i was like 8 or 9, i was depressed and dreamt/wished i would die or get seriously hurt, maybe i just wanted my dad to care about me for once or maybe i did really just want to die, im not sure, i can't really remember my childhood, my therapist says i most likely have ptsd from the abuse which would explain the memory gaps and dpdr (depersonalization & derealization for those that don't know, the derealization is confirmed by my therapist btw just not the depersonalization but that's probably only because i didn't bring that up)

i think the most fucked up part is the fact it took me 16 years to find out the abuse was also physical, i spent the entire time before that thinking it was only verbal towards me and my siblings but i guess not, also apparently all the times me and my sister went to my neighbors/aunts house was because we were hiding from my dad, i thought we just went over to watch cartoons because we didn't have them at home, idk it was just weird for me to find out 7 years after it stopped, it doesn't really bother me all that much tbh my dad was already dead to me and i've been mostly no contact with him for almost 3 years now

also speaking of me as a kid, that's when a lot of my problems started, i was 9 almost 10 for the dpdr and 8 or 9 when i started hating my body, sh came in later tho i was like 10 or 11 when that started, i actually remember being like 9 and writing down everything i ate on a piece of paper, and when i was 10 i kept a notebook full of what i weighed in the morning and night and would see the difference in it, i also vividly remember asking my mom how many calories were in something from mcdonald's and she told me i was too young to be asking that so i just kinda stopped after that which obviously ended up coming back, i mean just look at my account

anyways yea i just hate how back and forth my mental health is, one day i could be doing great and think i'm amazing and unbelievably pretty and smart and ill try to better myself by getting sober and staying clean, then the next day i'll hate myself and consider going back to taking my meds throughout the day just so i was loopy and hardly able to process anything

tbh i do miss it a lot, i started back when i was heavily addicted to weed and would take my meds when i couldn't smoke, actually i used to take melatonin a bunch throughout the day so i could just pass out if anything happened that i didn't want to deal with (literally anything at all tbf) but that started to not work as well as i wanted so i turned to my meds, i'd take my nightly dose (50mg instead of the 20mg i was supposed to take) at like noon and would be loopy until it was time to actually take it, i didn't do it much tbh, my sisters bf caught on after the third or fourth time because i had just met his family for the first time that day and their dog tried to bite my face apparently and i didn't even react (didn't even realize it happened tbh) and he asked what was up with me and i told him bc i've known him forever, anyways yea he yelled at me to knock it off and went on about how it's gonna kill me if i kept doing it, so i did it like once after that and it's been months since i've done it again

it's kinda funny tho, those meds actually could've killed me regardless, i was supposed to take them three times a day but only really did once at school and i still got a bunch of the more serious side effects because i wasn't supposed to smoke while taking them but obv i did bc i was addicted, like breathing was hard, i nearly fainted all the time, my appetite was nonexistent, my heart was starting to mess up, like i literally thought i had a heart attack one day because the side effects were that bad and my mom and sister started looking up symptoms of POTS because that's what the side effects looked like, anyways i got taken off those months ago but i still have them somewhere and i'm fighting the urge to find and take them just so i have no appetite and so i'll sleep through the day

i think that's really all idk, there's more i was gonna say but i can't really remember plus this is already super long jfc, i don't expect anyone to actually read this, i just wanted it off my chest and i don't really trust talking to many people about this kinda stuff

[scottxlogan]

Helllloooozzz I got really into scogan recently and because people never tag it it’s been hard to find domestic family fics for them and family fics are my favourite thing like, ever, and there’s only so many times a kitty like me can attempt to sift thru the mpreg tag to find something readable before it’s noggin goes a bit loose, so have ya got any recs ?? ^w^ I’ve looked up so many rec lists but no one lists family fics specifically :’3

Welcome to the fandom! You'll find a lot of really nice people here who will be able to point you in the direction of what you're looking for as there are some who probably know better than I do. If you're looking to chat with other fans there's a Scogan Events discord at https://discord.gg/FmJ24gFJ6X that takes part in a Scogan related bingo for writing, art, etc and other small events all year long. Plus, there's some great people to chat about Scogan with too if you're looking to interact with others who love the ship.

As for recs, I'm going to throw this out here for some of my followers to see if they have some favorites that might help you find what you're looking for. Off hand I know that Tweedle has written a few family fics with Scogan. They're up at her AO3 page at https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiAnLake/. In terms of my own stories, I know I've done a few and I'll list them below. I'm sure I'm missing some, but if anyone else has some recs/suggestions, please help me out here and add them for @beepmeowz if you can.

My fics (off hand that I can think of them. Not all are domestic fluff, but I'm sure some of my followers here can help out with the list of family stories)

Working It Out (One Shot/Rated T) Logan's stressed after finding Laura with a new companion who wants to be more than friends. Scott does his best to calm his husband down after Logan tries to follow Scott's approach to parenting.

Gone Forever (Multi-Chapter/Rated E) After the events of The Wolverine, Logan goes on a journey of his own to discover truths about the life he put behind him. An accident, a run in from a face from his past and a misunderstanding lead him closer to the truth he'd been seeking out, but will it be the key to his ending or his happily ever after? (This story features Scott as a single parent to a young Nathan as Logan finds himself finding love and embracing the family that was always just out of his reach)

Saturday Morning (One Shot/Rated G) Logan takes a moment to reflect on the blessings he's been given in his life.

We're All Different Now (One Shot/Rated M) When a mysterious woman from the future enlists Logan's help to change the past by saving Charles Xavier's life, Logan finds himself back in time at a pivotal place in time. With his mission to save Charles in mind Logan finds himself distracted by his feelings for Scott Summers, a man he loved and lost years before Logan was given a second chance to make things right. Armed with the mission to change only the fate of Charles and nothing else, Logan is torn between doing what was asked of him and following his heart to find a way to make things right with the one man he'd been forced to face a lifetime without the first time around. Will the second time around prove to be a means of repairing the damage that was done or will Scott and Logan's ill-fated romance repeat the same pattern with disastrous consequences?

And finally this one is a WIP series with a one shot and a multichapter, but it doesn't have a lot of family stuff yet as I have it still working out but it is a series that takes place after the movie Logan where Logan is still alive and finds his way back to Scott and Laura if you will.

It's up at

Scott makes a bold decision to resurrect his fallen lover, but in bringing Logan back to life, will it prove to be the key to saving the future or the key to destruction for humanity and mutants alike? How will Logan adjust to his return to a world that moved on in his absence?:

[tenko-thinks]

Can I request the same prompt you did of pregnant reader with Douma, but with Gyutaro and/or the Hantengu clones please? 👀

grasps you firmly yes absolutely you can. But bc these can get pretty long feel free to send in the clones in another rq ! Separately or together ill figure it out ♡ also the og rq specified twins but I'll keep it to one unless specified otherwise hehe

Gyutaro with a pregnant s/o + fathering headcanons

Tags : pregnancy, labor and childbirth ( nondescript ), referenced abortion, insecurities, referenced s/h , Gyutaro needs a hug and I'm gonna deliver

To say Gyutaro had never expected to be a father is an understatement.

He had never expected to find someone that would tolerate looking at him. Let alone willingly father his child.

When you told him you were expecting? His first thought was that he had truly ruined you. Tainted you and not quite in the way that made him giddy.

He had anticipated you to tell him you already took the concoction to get rid of it. Or eaten wisteria to induce it. But when you had smiled at him so fondly. He didn't know what to do.

Often asks what you're going to do with a demon child. To which your answer is always the same. Raise it with him and Ume. Or on your own if he refuses to raise it.

The insinuation that he wouldn't want to care for the kid makes him irritated but he hears Ume in his head. Telling him about how mean he's been to you. Of course you'd think he doesn't want the thing.

Which couldn't be further from the truth. Sort of.

He's petrified for the outcome. What if you die? Of course he raised a kid before but could he even bond with it if you weren't there? The selfish side of him wants the kid gone so he can make sure you don't die on him. But he knows you'd probably hate him if you found out.

He knows how pregnancy works in theory. Watching courtesans deal with it in yoshiwara. But he's a bit clumsy when it comes to helping in any way that doesn't involve him helping you move around. It stresses him out to no end. His habit of self mutilation is at its worst when he can't help you when you start crying over seeing a cute design.

Cravings? He doesn't know what to do. He has to rely on Ume because like hell he's going to go out and purchase a can of sardines or several kinds of weird mochi he's never heard of.

Ume is elated the entire time however, more than happy to demand another room beside her own in the kyogoku house. While in the night Gyutaro pilfers baby items he's able to find in nearby towns that become dormant at night. The room quickly becomes a nursery, suited not only to your own but Ume's tastes.

Ume is more knowledgeable than her brother on the complicated parts of pregnancy such as hormones and sensitivity. When you begin crying over one of Gyutaro's usually lighthearted remarks he panics. But ume is there to placate you. And give her brother a very, very dirty look.

As your stomach grows Gyutaro finds an odd fascination with it. Since his own body refuses to change in a similar way. His hands always rest on your bump when able. Absolutely refusing to leave until he has to.

When the baby begins to kick? Local Man in shambles. He mutters to your stomach a lot. Things you can't quite make out. But don't press, he'll probably get too embarrassed to do it. Gyutaro quietly mumbles all of his worries to the baby. And hopes that they'll be okay with him as their good for nothing father.

He loves to help you when it comes to carrying you around. Or assisting you with putting on shoes because you can no longer bend over in the same way. It makes him feel as though he's actually capable of this whole thing.

But when you go into labor? He is in shambles. It's only you, ume and himself. Since a midwife would have to see him otherwise. The entire time he's sweating buckets while you scream.

The sound of that very first cry ? Breaks him out of that fear induced state and he's fighting the urge to hound ume to see the child. She needs to wash the newborn first, after all. And he needs to be there for you as you struggle to regain your breath and composure.

When the newborn is placed on your chest and you can finally hold the little loaf you created Gyutaro is in shock. He can't cry. Can't even smile he's just. Frozen. Until you take his hand and lead it over, placing it on the peach fuzz of your- his child's head. Barely grazing it. Smiling at him.

It takes a few days for it to finally sink in for Gyu. While you and ume have almost immediately adjusted , he's stuck. Only able to just stare at the thing in the cradle he had built for it.

A little boy. One that took after you, only marred by beauty spots littering his face. Completely unlike his own. Small and daintily painted on by the gods while his were clumsy and unattractive. If he didn't know any better he'd be jealous of his own infant son's luck.

As a father, Gyutaro is actually quite skilled. He did raise his sister after all. However when it comes to teaching morals and rules, it falls to you. After all, he never wanted to repeat what happened in the past just because he taught wrong.

Gyutaro takes to his son very well, and knows that as a human. You rely on him when you're asleep. Keeping your shared bundle content is easy work when he doesn't have the need to sleep.

It makes him swell with pride , how much you and the child rely on him. Such small and fragile little things.

He has to get stronger to properly protect the both of you. As well as teaching your son how to fight when he comes of age.

Still doesn't leave often, but he allows you to be accompanied by his sister to enjoy nights with the baby as he grows. Deserving to see the world and enjoy being a child.

So long as you always come home before sunrise.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 4

MASTERLIST

word count: 2200+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; mentions of drinking/alcoholism; arguing/one-sided arguments; depression; anxiety; unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; tiny little spoiler for Better in the Morning, but nothing that will be a shock to readers that are caught up on it

The trouble with things going smoothly is that one tends to get complacent. They get comfortable and let their guard down. They make mistakes and people suffer for it, mostly the ones they never wanted to hurt in the first place.

Josh and I have been going strong for the last six months. We’ve not so much as bickered since the first argument. He’s somehow convinced me, on some uncertain level, that maybe I do deserve this happiness. The fear is still there, of course, but Josh has found a way to quell it, and suddenly I don’t feel like I’m drowning. He’s my spark, my ever-burning flame, and I think maybe I might be able to keep it from going out.

I never wanted kids, and that hasn’t changed, but watching Josh light up around them only increases my love for him. It’s no different with his new niece. He’s been fawning over Kya and Jake’s baby nonstop since she was born and has made it his life’s mission to ensure he’s the ‘favorite uncle.’ He talks about her constantly, and I’m surprisingly not put off by his incessant chattering these days. But I suppose all good things must come to an end.

We’re in his kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Although I still have my own place, I find myself spending most of my time at his house. He’s talking a million miles a minute about his day, and his most recent visit to Kya’s. He tells me practically everything the baby did, which isn’t much considering she’s, well, a baby, but Josh is excited, so I let him have his moment. Then he says something that makes my heart stop.

“Jake said they’re probably gonna go to West Virginia soon to visit… uh, whoever you guys know up there. I thought maybe we could tag along, make it a whole family trip.”

“No. I’m not going to West Virginia.” Bile is rising in my throat at the thought, and I’m infuriated he would even suggest it.

He reaches out to touch my arm. “I mean, I’d be there with you the whole time. I think it’d be-“

“I said no.”

“I want to see where you grew up, and whatever happened out there, we can-“

The last remaining calm in me dissipates, and I snatch my arm from him, slamming my fist on the marble countertop so hard it shoots pain up to my elbow. “Drop it!”

He blinks at me in shock, and I pretend I don’t notice the way he flinches. I’ve never raised my voice like this toward him, but now the dam has broken, and I can’t stop. “Why can’t you ever just fucking leave shit alone?”

“Finn…” His voice is so small and soft that I almost feel bad. Almost.

“Stop. Fucking. Talking. For once in your life shut the fuck up. I don’t understand why you always have to keep pushing and pushing for shit you know nothing about! Maybe no one’s ever told you no, you’re so used to getting everything you want, but it doesn’t fucking work like that. And you don’t even understand one piece of what you’re prying for. So, stop acting like a spoiled fucking brat, and quit digging!”

I know he doesn’t deserve any of what I said, but the damage is already done. His eyes are filling with tears, and he takes a step away from me. His jaw tenses and he nods, refusing to look me in the eyes. “Fine. Okay.” He doesn’t argue, the first indication that I’ve truly hurt him, only turns away and disappears down the hallway.

My heart’s racing, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and I’m squeezing my fist so tightly my nails are digging into my palm. The house is too small; the walls might be closing in on me. I don’t hear anything, and Josh doesn’t come back out. I should go apologize, but it seems like such a daunting task that will only result in more confrontation, and will inevitably lead me to hurt him more. That’s the last thing I want to do, so I grab my keys, slam the door on the way out, get in my car, and drive.

I don’t have a destination, I just need to get away. It’s already dark; the bright oncoming headlights in the opposite lane make my eyes water. Or is it the guilt and anxiety? I very much wish I could go back and do things differently. Maybe it’s not too late to salvage my relationship with him, but I can’t return to him like this, when my mind is still mottled with rage. I don’t trust what I might do. Instead, I’ll do what I do best – run.

~

JOSHUA

When Josh told his twin he was coming over, Jake wasn’t expecting to find him with bloodshot eyes and splotchy, tear-stained cheeks. “Shit, what’s wrong?” Jake ushered him inside and directed his attention to Josh, concern painting his features.

“Finn and I got into a fight. And he didn’t come home. It’s been 24 hours. His phone’s going straight to voicemail. I checked his place, and I don’t think he’s been there either. What if something happened to him? What if-“

“Josh, calm down. I’m sure he’s fine.” Jake coaxed his brother to sit down on the couch. He gently reminded Josh to keep his voice down, so he doesn’t wake the baby. “Did he say anything before he left?”

“No. No, we argued… he was so pissed off so I tried to give him some space and he just left.” Josh didn’t want to elaborate on the details; he knew how Jake would react to Finn being the primary aggressor, and he didn’t want to make his boyfriend out to be the bad guy. He blamed himself for it anyways. “I don’t know what to do. I’m worried about him. And I checked the weather, there’s another storm coming through. What if he gets stuck out in it somewhere?”

Jake shook his head. “What are you talking about? He’s not a fucking dog, Josh. It’s just rain. He’ll figure it out.”

“No, he’s right to be worried.” Kya’s voice came from behind them; they didn’t hear her come around the corner until she spoke. “He’s always been terrified of storms. I don’t know why. He used to hide in the closet when we were kids, until it passed. But that also means he watches the weather like a hawk. I’m sure he’s found somewhere safe to hunker down until it passes.”

“Is this normal for him, to just disappear?” Josh’s eyes pleaded with her for some kind of reassurance.

Kya shrugged sadly. “He’s always been a little ghost-y, I guess. But I didn’t think he would just drop off without telling you. What… was it that bad of a fight?”

Josh swallowed as he fought back tears. “It… no, it was stupid. And I’m the one that upset him. I started it.”

Kya watched him carefully; there was something he wasn’t telling them. But she didn’t call him out on it. She figured if it was something serious, he would have said something. “He’ll come around,” she said. “He doesn’t handle confrontation well. I’m sure he just needs some time to cool off and clear his head. He’ll come back.” She didn’t let on that she was suddenly doubting her own words.

When Josh eventually returned home, dejected and depressed, he curled up on the couch under a soft throw blanket. He held his phone close and made sure the volume was turned up in case Finn did call him back. He wanted to stay up, wanted to wait just a little longer, but exhaustion won out and he soon drifted to sleep.

~

It’s barely dawn by the time I make it back to Josh’s house. His car is here. He’s probably asleep, which makes me falter. I don’t want to wake him up, but I know the longer I stay away, the harder it will be. I’ve rehearsed a hundred different conversations in my head, like memorizing a script that will change based on how Josh responds to each line. I’m honestly quite terrified. I considered just staying gone, but I know Josh well enough to know that kind of uncertainty would only hurt him more. If I’ve lost him, at least we’ll both know it.

I ring the doorbell. I know where he keeps the spare key, but I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to use it. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath as I wait for a response. I’m surprised at how quickly he comes to the door, and I’m even more shocked when he throws his arms around me so hard I almost stumble backwards.

“Where the hell have you been? I was so worried about you. I thought… I thought something happened to you.”

He was worried? About me? I coax him inside so I can shut the door. I’m not keen on providing intel on our private lives to the neighbors. He sniffs and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. When I finally get a good look at his face, my chest aches. He hasn’t slept; he looks exhausted. I know he’s been crying, and I hate that it’s my fault.

He allows me to lead him to the couch, but instead of sitting with him, I kneel on the floor in front of him. “I’m so sorry.” It seems like a good place to start. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve that, Josh. I lost my cool, that’s all on me. And… I understand if you want me to leave, if you don’t want this anymore.”

“Where did you go?” he asks quietly.

“Uh, Wichita.”

“Kansas? What the hell is in Kansas? Or… who?”

I’m mildly taken aback at the implication, but if the roles were reversed, I’d be thinking the same thing. “I promise you, it’s nothing like that. I didn’t plan to go to Wichita, I just ended up there. I…” I hesitate to tell him the whole truth. Hiding it is easier, and he may not ever forgive me. But maybe he’ll pity me instead, and that’s almost worse. “I messed up, though.” I pull my AA chip from my pocket and place it in his hand, careful to avoid his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably disappointed in me. I found a meeting before I came back, but if you don’t want-“

“I don’t want you to leave.” He looks at the chip in his palm before holding it back out to me. “This doesn’t define you, Finn. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

Mistakes get people killed. “You deserve better,” I admit. I’m giving him an out, an escape route, and the small piece of me that is still decent wants him to take it. I slip the chip back into my pocket, although it feels dirty now, contaminated somehow.

He’s staring down at the carpet, and I can see the wheels turning. “You weren’t drunk, though.”

“I got drunk. I went to a bar, and-“

“No, I mean before you left. You weren’t drunk when you screamed at me.”

“No,” I whisper. “I… I can’t go back there, Josh. You trying to convince me to, it… it triggered something in me, I guess. I can’t stand feeling like I don’t have a choice.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m working on it, though. And I know it’s a lot to ask, but I promise if you give me another chance, I’ll do better. It won’t happen again.”

He stays quiet for a moment, sniffling as he considers my words. I’m still not confident that he’ll forgive me, and I brace myself for the worst. But instead, he leans forward, resting his arms on my shoulders and pulling me to him. “I’m sorry. Just please don’t leave. Let me help you,” he practically begs.

I give into his pleas, and we stay like this until he asks me to come to bed with him. “Will you just lay with me?” I hold him then, neither of us saying a word. His fingers absentmindedly trace my skin, just under the hem of my shirt. They trail along the small scar just above my right hip and I tense up involuntarily. The little patch of marred flesh is just a reminder, another in a long line of stories I will never tell him. He’s learned to quit asking about it, now.

I don’t think I really sleep. Josh eventually drifts off and I’m left alone. I don’t want to admit it, but my gut is telling me this is wrong. Something in me is screaming to get away from here, from him. Except it’s not because I’m in any kind of danger. It’s because I know he is. No matter how many promises I make, how many times he forgives me for the things I’ve done, or how much he pleads for me to stay with him, I will inevitably hurt him over and over again. There is no doubt in my mind that everything he’s tried to build in himself, I will bring it all crashing to the ground. I do love him, more than I’ve loved anyone this way. Some say if you love something, you need to let it go. But my love for him, and my own selfishness, is why I know I never will. I’ll hold onto him for as long as I can, even if all I do is drag him down with me to the pits of wherever the hell I end up.

///

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka

TAGLIST

Let me know if you want to be added!

[agentplutonium]

All I Want (Is You)

It was Christmas morning. Milo knew that, realistically, he probably wouldn’t win this year. However, in one more throw-away shot, Milo tried one more time. By some miracle, he was up before Sweetheart was and he was able to sneak out to the kitchen to set his trap. The mistletoe went up in the doorway. He grabbed a book and his glasses, getting into position just as he heard Sweetheart shuffling down the hall.

Milo tries to charm Sweetheart into giving him a kiss in 1275 words.

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Christmas, Mistletoe, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, I think we get the picture already /lh, it really is nothing other than a prompt fill that I found cute, it is just the two of them being dorks in love, Milo is trying to win a 'competition' that he set up six years ago, and he only won cause sweetheart took pity on him

Based on this post. On AO3, if you prefer that format as well!

("oh pluto you didn't have to write such a long fic from that-" I know I didn't. I did anyway, because I am gay and in a holly jolly mood okay. moving on. (/lh))

Milo has gotten many past partners to kiss him under the mistletoe.

It was a tradition with him. He would usually put it somewhere obvious, so that it was visible to guests, and wait. There was always at least once where his partner at the time would stand under it, knowingly or not, and Milo got to pull his favourite move. It never failed him in the holiday season.

Except for with one person. Which was Sweetheart. In six years he hasn’t been able to kiss them under that mistletoe, but this year was different. This year, he was going to kiss them by Christmas. 

And he tried. He tried so damn hard. But somehow, some way, Sweetheart saw through his bluffs or saw where the mistletoe was. They would avoid him like the plague if he was acting “suspicious” in any way. They would be lured under it by his charm just to look up at the wrong second and worm themselves away. It was a continuous game of cat and mouse, and Milo wanted to win.

It was Christmas morning. Milo knew that, realistically, he probably wouldn’t win this year. However, in one more throw-away shot, Milo tried one more time. By some miracle, he was up before Sweetheart was and he was able to sneak out to the kitchen to set his trap. The mistletoe went up in the doorway. He grabbed a book and his glasses, getting into position just as he heard Sweetheart shuffling down the hall.

Milo tried to act nonchalant, staring at the words in front of him but not taking them in. He wasn’t even sure what book he picked up, or what part of the story he randomly flipped to. It didn’t matter. It was just a prop.

Sweetheart shuffled past him, rubbing at their eyes. “You’re books upside down,” They commented, not looking at him.

Milo realized that, yes, the book was upside down. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Trying to see if there was a different meaning this way. These authors can be tricky, ya know?”

Sweetheart chuckled. “Yeah. Sure. Do you want coffee?”

Milo sighed, “Yes, please, that sounds great Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart put on the coffee pot before shuffling back over to him. They gently took the book from his hands, flipping it over. “I didn’t know you were into horror,” they commented with a wry smile, handing the book back to him.

“I find it interesting,” Milo said slowly, working the lie together as he went.

“Really? When did you get that book?”

“You know, I can’t remember exactly when. One of those things, you know? Buy it and let it sit somewhere.”

“Is that so?” Sweetheart said, trying to hide their amusement.

“Because I could have sworn that I bought that book last month.”

Milo was really fucked now, but he continued with the white lie. “Was it that? I must have forgotten. I’m reading it now, though.”

Sweetheart stifled a chuckle. “Milo, Love… when I described what was happening in that book you had a very negative reaction. Almost got physically ill. Gagged a little, even.”

Milo looked at the book in his hand, reading the title for the first time. Sweetheart was right, as usual. He particularly hated the description they gave during that one scene. He shuddered at the image it brought back—one that he suppressed after conjuring it—and sighed. “What if I wanted to give it a second chance?”

“I wouldn’t stop you, then,” Sweetheart said sincerely, “but, there’s a few things you’re failing to see here.”

They stepped closer to him, causing his heart to speed up. They always had that effect on him. Anytime they were close to him he found it hard to breathe, heart pounding in his chest. The effect they had on Milo was unmatched, and, frankly, very unfair. If he didn’t know that he had the same effect on them he’d go as far as to say it was cruel.

“First thing, you’re standing in a random doorway. You don’t like standing while reading,” Sweetheart started, tone matter of fact. Milo had to applaud the attention to detail they had, that was a small grievance he had that rarely got aired. 

“Second thing is, along with the book,” they took the book out of his hand, sliding it onto the counter, “your glasses are all kinds of messed up.” They reached up, tugging the glasses off of his face, folding the arms neatly, and placing them beside the book.

“Third thing, and I promise this is the last,” Sweetheart said, taking another step forward and splaying their hands against Milo’s sides, hands warm against his skin, pressing close. Milo had his hands on their hip without a second thought, holding them there. “I know what you’re doing,” they murmured, looking up at him, “you’re not slick, Milo Greer.”

“Who said I was trying to be?” Milo asked.

“Is this your last shot before you give up for the season?” Sweetheart teased.

“Maybe,” Milo hedged, pouting a bit.

Sweetheart laughed, hands unconsciously squeezing his side, the combination sending butterflies through his stomach. “You sure are persistent, huh?” They giggled.

“I prefer ambitious,” Milo said, “has a better ring to it.”

Sweetheart was smiling ear to ear, love written all over their face as they looked at him. Milo believed that this was the first time that he’d truly seen them stress-free in weeks. Milo felt something akin to pride swell in his chest at the thought that he was the one who got them to this point. So long as his Sweetheart was with him, he was going to do everything in his power to bring them back to a state like this every time they needed it.

“You’re cute,” Sweetheart said.

“I’m adorable,” Milo agreed. “I’m also the guy who pulled a deity like you, so that might warrant me a title a bit higher than that.”

Sweetheart looked at him for a second, head tilted a bit to the side as if contemplating something. They got a look in their eye that Milo didn’t get a proper read on before they reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. Milo let out a noise of surprise, not believing what was happening at the moment. 

He had won, then? Or had he, where Sweetheart initiated? 

He didn’t care, he decided quickly, pulling his Sweetheart closer. He couldn’t give a damn when they were pressed against them like that.

When Sweetheart pulled away they had a mischievous grin on their face. “Does winner, work?”

“So I do win?” Milo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sweetheart shrugged, smirking. “I suppose, since, by the rules you laid out, I did fall for your evil charming ways and succumbed to my baser human instincts.”

The more that Sweetheart talked, the more Milo had to suppress his chuckles. “Your baser instincts,” Milo asked, barely keeping himself from choking on the words.

“Yes,” Sweetheart said matter of factly, “the baser instincts that hard wires people to fall for one Milo Greer at one point or another, obviously.”

“You fucking goof,” Milo said, unable to keep the laughter back. He leaned toward them again, kissing them to try and stifle it. It wasn’t wholly successful, but Milo didn’t care. “God, do I ever love you,” he whispered against their lips, earning him another smile. 

“I love you too,” Sweetheart whispered back, pushing their foreheads together. They savoured that moment with him for a moment before sighing. “Go sit down, Love. I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

Milo kissed their forehead, letting go of them finally. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

[bisexual-kelsier]

Love Is Stored in the Oatmeal Raisin Cookie

On Lizzie & Ripred

The newest take I’m seeing right now, both in the TUC tags and on my “controversial TUC takes” post, is that Lizzie’s relationship with Ripred is unfounded and that the inclusion of it “robbed” us of a softer moment between Gregor and Ripred. I disagree with this take so much that I decided to write an entire essay about my thoughts on the subject. The most common argument I see against Lizzie is that she received Ripred’s affection, as well as his tragic backstory, after being present for a very short period of time, while Gregor has known Ripred for months. At a surface level, this may seem counterintuitive, but when we dig deeper into the characters and their behaviors, motivations, and allegiances, the thematic significance of Lizzie’s role in the story becomes apparent.

First and foremost, let’s take a look at Gregor. I love this kid so much, but I do believe that the core of this argument hinges on his more subtle flaws as a character. Consider this: the entirety of The Underland Chronicles is narrated from Gregor’s point-of-view. What does this mean for our perception of the story? We receive only the context that Gregor has, and we only receive the details that Gregor notices and finds important. Across the series, his understanding of the Underland and its denizens expands, grows, and solidifies. He is twelve by Code of Claw and very much still learning and growing, but some of beliefs have settled by this point.

This is where Ripred comes in. Gregor has more or less made up his mind about Ripred by the end of Curse of the Warmbloods. He wants to lead the Gnawers and will achieve that goal by any means necessary. He’s an ally, but probably not a friend, grumpy and abrasive and untouchable. Definitely not worthy of sympathy, because he can take care of himself. In short, Gregor doesn’t see Ripred as a multidimensional person, as someone with emotions outside of anger and self-importance.

In direct opposition, we have Lizzie. Upon first glance, she might seem inconsequential until Code of Claw, because her character arc is quiet and mostly happens off-screen. She’s anxious about almost everything, and the Underland puts her through a lot of trauma in the earlier books without having ever set foot down there. It took her dad from her when she was only four years old, and when he returned years later, he was ill and severely traumatized. His absence and then his inability to work meant that she grew up in poverty, spending a large portion of her childhood food insecure and without a stable home life. Similarly, the Underland suddenly took Gregor, who by that point had undertaken a parental role in the household, and Boots away on more than one occasion. These traumas were then compounded on in Curse of the Warmbloods, first when her family’s apartment was swarmed by rats and then when Grace, the stable parent and breadwinner, contracted the plague and was unable to return home.

Lizzie’s role in both Marks of Secret and Code of Claw directly opposes the effect that Gregor—and by direct extension, we as readers—expects this trauma to have on her. Lizzie is afraid of almost everything, and the Underland has harmed her directly in the past. She should approach it with fear, maybe even hostility, like Gregor does in portions of the book. Lizzie is not Gregor, though, and her key trait as a character is that she is able to see the world as a whole through different eyes. So she chooses kindness, instead.

This is where the excerpt above comes in. Lizzie has never met Ripred personally at this point, and she really only knows anything about him from Gregor’s stories—which almost certainly don’t paint Ripred in the kindest light. Lizzie sees beyond the surface of these stories, though, and considers Ripred as an entire person, with depth and emotions. What she sees between the lines is up for individual interpretation. Maybe she latches onto Ripred’s insistence that Gregor learn echolocation, a skill that might save her brother’s life. She does pester Gregor about practicing. Maybe she sees pieces of Gregor reflected in those stories about Ripred. A rager who doesn’t quite fit in where he’s from or where he’s fighting for, who can be stubborn and short-tempered and quick to hide his vulnerabilities from the people he considers himself responsible for. Maybe she sees pieces of herself reflected in those stories. Maybe, as someone who has lost pieces of her family, who has only one friend, who has likely eaten less than her share so that others could be full, she finds it easy to spot the humanity, for lack of a better word, in Ripred, like light through the crack under a locked door.

Whatever her reasons—and maybe there are no reasons beyond “he’s a person, too”—Lizzie goes out of her way to treat Ripred with kindness before she ever meets him. She sends some of her own food with Gregor so that Ripred doesn’t have to go completely hungry. She makes sure Gregor knows to share that plate of oatmeal raisin cookies with Ripred. Where Gregor rarely shows any gratefulness for his help and, in fact, rarely views him through a lens unclouded by a deeply ingrained bias against Gnawers, Lizzie is kind. Ripred notices.

This is not a matter of Ripred suddenly opening up to Lizzie for little reason after bonding with Gregor across the entire series. Ripred treats Lizzie differently because she acted differently. Their relationship is not built only on Lizzie’s similarities to Silksharp, but on a history of compassion and respect. It isn’t shoehorned in, it’s a necessary relationship that supports the central themes of The Underland Chronicles—violence, war, and colonialism are cyclical, but the refusal to continue living life based on the biases of the past can break that cycle and bring about a brighter future for everyone.

[sfb123]

Hands Down - Prologue

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Summary: Can Liam and Riley still find their way to each other despite Riley turning down Maxwell's invitation to Cordonia?

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,945

Song Inspiration: Hands Down - Dashboard Confessional

A/N: I am participating in @kingliamappreciationweek Day 5 (Friendships/Relationships/AU, all of which apply to this prologue), as well as @choicesflashfics Week 29, "That's all we/they are now. A memory. A faded picture. A failed potential." It will appear in bold below.

A/N 2: It's been a minute since I've posted anything, let alone started a new series. I've had bits and pieces of this story forever, but could never figure out how to put it all together. Then my aunt died (IYKYK), and I've been working on this ever since.

A/N 3: Thank you to those of you that I have been bombarding with ideas, snippets, and complaints. They're still going to be coming, probably now more than ever. But I appreciate you listening and humoring me. Especially @txemrn for looking over this prologue and making sure it was okay.

Tagging my usuals, if you'd like to be added or removed just let me know!

Liam was in a daze as he returned to his hotel suite, still thinking about her. They had only spent a couple of hours together, but it was all Liam needed to know that he was destined for so much more with Riley Brooks. 

He fell back onto the couch and pulled out his phone, texting Maxwell to see if he was still up, and if he would join Liam in his room. He was, and he would. 

While he had his phone in his hand, he opened his camera roll and looked fondly at the picture that they had taken together. Liam told her that it was because he wanted to remember his trip to the Statue of Liberty, but more than that, it was because he wanted to remember her. Not that she wasn’t permanently imprinted on his mind the second they locked eyes, but he wanted to have a photo of her, to have tangible proof that she wasn’t a dream. 

A knock at the door pulled Liam’s attention away from his screen. He stood, returning his phone to his pocket as he answered to find Maxwell grinning on the other side. 

“Well well well. Have fun, your highness?” His friends crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

Liam chuckled, he couldn’t help it. “More than you know. Please, come in.” He moved aside and motioned toward the sitting area. 

“Soooooo… tell me everything. You seemed pretty smitten, I’ve never seen you like that before!” 

“Maxwell, I’ve never felt like that before. She’s incredible. I’ve never felt more carefree, more happy.” Liam sighed at the memories of his evening. “That’s why I need your help.” 

Maxwell’s head tilted in confusion. “Me? What can I do?”

“Ramsford doesn’t have a sponsor for the social season, correct?” Maxwell nodded slowly, still not sure where this was going. “I want you to sponsor Riley, to bring her to Cordonia.”

“Liam… are you sure? I mean we’re not prepared for that. We weren’t expecting to sponsor anyone.” Maxwell hesitated. He wanted his friend to be happy, but he also knew his family’s financial state, and he wasn’t sure they would be able to support a sponsee. 

“Maxwell, I know your house has been having some… difficulties financially since your father took ill. I would be more than happy to pay for anything she needs. Discreetly, of course.” 

Maxwell studied Liam’s expression, he had never seen his friend like this before. The textbook definition of stoicism, the young prince was never one to show his emotions so openly. But now? He could see the desperation, the need clear as day on his friends face. 

“You really have it bad for her, don’t you?” 

“More than I ever thought possible.” Liam answered. 

“I’ll find her tomorrow morning before I head back.” He patted his friend on the shoulder. 

***

Liam stood in the receiving line greeting the suitors one by one. It was the first night of his social season, but all he could think about was her. She was all he had been able to think about since the night before. 

I hope she had a safe trip. 

She’s going to look so beautiful. 

I wonder if she’s been thinking of me the way I’ve been thinking of her. 

I need to move through this line faster. She’s in it somewhere, I need to see her again. 

Before long, the final suitor dipped into a courtesy and made her way back to the party. Liam looked around the room. Perhaps she had just gotten caught up in something and didn’t make it to the receiving line in time. 

“Liam? Is everything alright?” 

He turned around, to respond. “Yes father, I was just taking everything in.”

Constantine chuckled. “Well, enjoy it son. This is all for you. It’s the beginning of a whole new chapter.” 

Liam nodded, looking past his father to the bar where Maxwell was ordering a drink. “Father, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He didn’t wait for a response before stepping away. 

“Maxwell.” Liam greeted his friend as he stood next to him at the bar. 

“Oh, Liam. Hey!” Maxwell shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Happy social season!” He held up his drink, smiling awkwardly. 

“Where is she?” Liam asked, anxious to see her again.

“Riley?” Maxwell asked, trying to buy as much time as he could. Dreading having to deliver the news. “She… well, she’s not here.” 

“Why not? It’s the first event of the season, is she running late?” Liam began rambling, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. “Was there an issue getting her a gown? I could…” 

“Liam,” Maxwell interrupted. “She’s not here as in, she’s not in Cordonia. She didn’t come.” 

“What… why?”

That Morning

“Riley!” Maxwell jogged up to the familiar figure as she unlocked the door of the bar. 

She turned to face him as the door opened. “Oh hey, Maxwell, right? Did you forget something last night?” 

“No, I actually had a proposition for you.” Riley furrowed her brows. “Do you have a minute to talk?” 

“Sure, come in. We don’t open for another hour, so I can spare a few.” She walked into the building, and he followed behind. 

As she approached the bar, she pulled down one of the stools and signaled for him to sit. He took a seat and she stepped behind the bar, grabbing an apron and tying it around her waist. 

“So, you and Liam seemed to hit it off last night.” Maxwell said, wanting to gauge Riley’s take on the evening. He wanted to make sure Liam didn’t misinterpret, or misunderstand her side of the outing. 

A slow smile spread across Riley’s face, the same one Liam had on his the night before. That’s when he knew the feeling was very mutual. 

“We did. I’ve never met anyone like him before. Hell, I didn’t think guys like him existed in real life. I hope whoever wins that social season realizes how lucky they are.” She said wistfully.

Maxwell grinned, this was going better than he had hoped. “What if you were the one to win it?” 

“Ha-ha, yeah right.” She replied, shaking her head and turning to empty the dishwasher. 

“No, I’m serious.” He assured her. “Each noble house sponsors a suitor. Since we don’t have any sisters we can pick whoever we want. And I pick you!” 

Riley froze and turned back around looking at Maxwell with a shocked expression. “You,” she pointed at him. “Want me,” she turned her finger to point at herself. “To come with you to a county I only just found out about like twelve hours ago, to join some fancy royal version of The Bachelor to try to marry a prince?” 

“I wasn’t going to word it quite like that, but more or less.” He shrugged. 

“But… why me?” 

“Riley, Liam couldn’t stop talking about you. He was so happy last night. Happier than I’ve ever seen him, and we’ve known each other forever. His life is full of meetings, and stuffy dinners, and boring things he does because it’s his duty. He gets to break away and have fun sometimes, but those times are getting less and less now that he’s ramping up to become King. He’s such a good person, he puts everyone else ahead of himself. He deserves to be the kind of happy you make him all the time.” 

Riley was silent, examining Maxwell’s expression. He seemed to be sincere. “Maxwell, that’s really sweet of you. Liam’s lucky to have a friend like you looking out for him.” She started. “But be realistic, even if I came with you, I’d have to quit both of my jobs and put school on hold. Basically quit my life to travel halfway across the world for the chance to be with Liam. It wouldn’t even be a guarantee.” 

“He asked me to sponsor you!” Maxwell blurted out. 

Riley’s breath caught in her throat, she hadn’t been expecting that. “But why? He doesn’t even know me.” 

“He knows enough to believe that there could be something between you two.” 

She blinked back the tears that had started to rise. She felt it too, but it was a major risk. Riley Brooks didn’t take risks. “Yeah, but even if I did come with you, that doesn’t mean anything. He told me about the social season, it’s not like he’s going to be able to just send the other girls home the second he sees me. Everyone gets a say, and I'm a nobody from America. I know nothing about your country. I don’t know about your customs. Hell, I don’t even like fancy foods, I’d probably make a fool of myself and be laughed out of the country at the first dinner.” 

“But Riley…”

“Maxwell,” She reached across the bar, placing her hand over his. “You’re such a good friend to come here for him. But my answer is no. Maybe if we were in a different time, or a different place, but we’re here. These are the cards we were dealt, our lives are just too different for it to work.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I need to get things set up to open. Have a safe trip back.” She turned and walked to the back, leaving Maxwell alone. 

“I’m so sorry Liam. I tried, I really did.” Maxwell said sympathetically. He could see the pain in his friend’s eyes, despite his attempts to remain composed. “I don’t know if it helps or hurts, but she had the same dreamy look on her face when she talked about you that you had when you talked about her. Everything you felt last night, she felt it too.” 

Liam cleared his throat, “Thank you Maxwell. It was a longshot, but I’m very grateful to you for trying. If you’ll excuse me.” He nodded solemnly to his friend before walking away, moving to the double doors that lead to the balcony. 

He stepped outside and breathed a sigh of relief that he was alone. He approached the balustrade, leaning his forearms against it as he gazed out to the garden maze. He thought about Riley, what she was doing right now, if she missed him as much as he missed her. 

Perhaps he had just gotten caught up in the magic of the evening, he had overromanticized their connection. He took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up their picture. He examined their faces, they both looked so happy. He placed his thumb and index finger on the screen, dragging them apart to zoom in on her face. He was trained to read people, and everything about her, both in that moment, and in the photo, told him that she had been feeling exactly what he had been. Even Maxwell had noticed it the next day when he went to talk to her. 

It just hadn’t been enough. 

“That's all we are now. A memory. A faded picture. A failed potential.” He lamented as he continued to stare down at the picture, remembering their night together. 

“Liam.” His father’s short tone startled him so much that he nearly dropped his phone off of the balcony. 

“Father,” he turned, discreetly returning his device to his pocket. 

“What are you doing out here by yourself? You should be in there spending time with your suitors. The season is going to go by quickly, you need to take every opportunity to get to know your potential brides.” 

“Yes father.” Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get Riley out of his mind. 

**********

Permatag:

@3pawandme @alj4890 @busywoman @charlotteg234 @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @differenttyphoonwerewolf @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @imashybish @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha777 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan @xpandass420x

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @kingliamappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

[mimisplayground]

Sergeant Gaz, The calm, quiet, and cruel <3

Tags: Sensory Deprivation (he puts noise canceling headphones on you during da deed), light bondage, Slight violence at the beginning, Reader gets slapped at the beginning (but it was consented to!!), Also you get called out by ghost for the whole price thing, Orgasm control, he calls u dear :3

I HOPE U ALL LOVE IT!! (also sorry for the misleading beginning, it was gonna be a ghost and soap chapter but i changed my mind… ILL DO THAT NEXT I PROMISE!!)

—————

Ghost putting you in that headlock left you grumpy for the rest of the day, mumbling when you were around him.

And as he pinches that sensitive raw flesh, you hold back a squeal and quickly turn around, glaring at him, ready to fly off the handle and cuss him out.

But you find yourself at a full loss for words when you see his eyes squint from under his mask and he drawls out his words. “Careful sweetheart, down want me covering Captain's marks with my own do you?”

You pause, flustered, and want to die on the spot when you hear Soap laugh like it was an inside joke. You huff and turn around, stomping away in anger. And you make it all the way to the front of Prices office before thinking about the fact that he would probably use the words you had in your head as an excuse to leave you unable to sit for awhile again.

With that in mind, you turn around, walking to your own room and sitting on your bed with a huff.

The next month you were careful as could be. A record for you honestly, and you could feel it itching beneath your skin to voice some loud criticisms.

So you were practically boiling at the lid when you get stuck on Gaz’s lap during a vehicle mission. You’ve managed to hold yourself back thus far, so it should have come as no surprise to anyone that your breaking point was watching Gaz step on your shoelace to untie your boot.

Now granted, turning and full-blown knocking him in the head with your fist while yelling out a quick “watch what the fuck you’re doing” MIGHT have been overkill, it wasn't really on your top list of thoughts for that moment. And really, was it even your fault that you turned around too quickly to see the rage on Gaz’s face?

The mission went smoothly, an easy one that honestly didn’t even need as much manpower as they sent. But you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in your gut from forming at the sly comments the rest of 141 was making at your expense.

Comments about your attitude getting you in trouble, and a pat on the back from Price as he says -way too happily- that he couldn’t save you from this one.

The ride back was silent between you and Gaz, even as you found yourself sitting in his lap again. And if only you had clairvoyance, then you would’ve been able to see just how awful that silence would be later.

You didn’t expect a hand to close around the back of your neck tightly the second you got out of the vehicle, jumping in surprise when you looked back to see the hand belonging to Gaz. He smiles at you sweetly, and you think nothing of following him to his room when he guides you there, letting him help you out of the uncomfortable clothing and push you into the bathroom to shower.

And the shower was honestly amazing. You would’ve barricaded yourself in there if you knew what was waiting for you. You walked out, Gaz looking over looking fresh like he had just washed as well. He walks to you, leading you to his bed silently. Now that you thought about it, the talkative man hadn’t spoken a peep to you since you had punched him.

He wasn’t still mad about that, was he?

He hugs you from behind, and he whispers in your ear softly. “I’m gonna be rough, alright dear? Tell me if you’re ok with me roughing you up bad,” he rasps out, and you nod lightly.

He’s a gentle man you figure, he wouldn’t really get THAT rough, would he?

You were an idiot.

He had you on the bed, staring down at you lightly before making quick work of tying your hands together.

And you almost want to speak, open your mouth too, when a harsh smack flies across your face. In oddly the same spot you had punching him in the face.

It didn’t hurt much, not at all really, more of a sting with a noise loud enough to leave you dazed. Your head stays to the side in a daze as he pulls out a pair of range ear protectors. The bulky headphone-looking ones that you always got made fun of for (you liked to decorate the ones that you were just wearing in the practice range.)

Popping them onto your ears and watching your confusion rise as he smiles and waves at you. And you’re left with the only noise you can hear is your own panting. It was humiliating in a way, but nowhere near how humiliating it was when you heard yourself let out a strangled moan when you felt Gaz start prodding at your entrance with slicked-up fingers. You stare up at him and you have no clue how to react when he leans down to kiss you. Leaving sweet kisses all over your face while playing with your sex nonchalantly.

Always a bit too much, always a bit too little. You jolt when he kisses you on the mouth, biting your lip and letting his tongue invade your mouth. You’re left almost wincing at the sounds of your tongues dancing around with each other, and when you pull away you suddenly remember how deafeningly silent it was with the ear protectors on.

Gaz works you like a fine instrument, bringing you so close to the edge before backing away. Rubbing your stomach you watch him laugh and all too sweet laugh at the look of fat tears rolling down your cheeks. His skin glistened with sweat like he was the one having his body played with.

You knew that however fucked out that Brit looked, you were 10x worse. And when he felt he had stretched you enough you felt him get to work pushing the blunt tip of his cock into you.

And god, Gaz wasn’t quite as long as Price was, but dammit was he thick. It left you gasping for air and clawing at the ties around your wrist in an attempt to reach up and get your hands in Garrick’s tight curls and claw your nails down his back. He hit all the right spots and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you mewled and moaned.

His thrusts were quick and rough, bullying your insides with each thrust in and leaving you sobbing at each pull-out. You’re gripping the pillow under you, your legs wrapped tight around Garrick's waist. You see him groaning and mumbling, but all that you can hear is your own panting and downright porno moans.

And you just know the others can hear you. If not your awful moans then the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall. And when you reach your peak you feel like it's heaven on earth. But heaven on earth quickly became too much as Gaz kept fucking you through it.

You try to tug yourself away, and you gasp in bliss when Gaz roughly grabs your hips with his calloused hands and slams you right back down.

He kept at it for a few more minutes, quickly catapulting you into another orgasm before he slams in harshly and you feel a sticky warmth fill your insides. Gaz rubs at you a bit longer, making sure you reach that mind-shattering sensation one more time.

He lets you both sit there panting and swearing together for a moment, before reaching up and yanking off the headphones. You feel a few tears leave your eyes at being able to hear his post-orgasm groans and panting finally.

“Apologize, dear.” He commands airily, and you’re quickly muttering out apology after apology, tugging your wrists until he unties them. He brings your wrists close and kisses both of them lovingly. You take advantage of the situation to lean forward and leave a kiss on his lips.

“Good little love, knowing how to apologize so sweetly.” He says softly as you both kiss into a calm state of mind, with him laying on top of you at this point as you soothe your hands from his neck down, petting him softly.

At this point, you might start misbehaving more often if this is what it’ll get you.

————-

KYLE GARRICK 😋😋 I LUV HIM SM

i hope u guys like this i saw someone ask me to make this a series so thats wut im going to do :3 leave comments and suggestions!! requests and asks still open!!

[beelmons]

Escapade 5

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader Rating: Explicit, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex, reader drinks a bit of alcohol. Summary: The case gets stuck, but Spencer is by your side to keep you going. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: this one doesn't have as much action ifykwim, mostly plot building, but bear with me, lots of action coming. Tag list: @punkndisorderrly @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @amywright

Ever heard the expression ‘do not speak ill of the dead’? One of the most misunderstood sayings in the english language, if you were to say so yourself. Through the many years of working in law enforcement, you had come to realize that all it took for the most heinous, horrendous, and evil crimes to go away in the minds of the people was no other than dying.

The interviews didn’t take you anywhere. Every agent was a god-sent angel in the eyes of their loved ones. No criminal record, no wrong-doings, model citizens if someone were to ask you. No additional disappearances or deaths, either, the UnSub had gone dormant, which meant two things: first, the good news, it indicated the possibility that your friend and the HR clerk were probably still alive. Second, for the bad part, without any more victims, getting new leads would be difficult, and the risk of the case going cold was greater.

—We need to go back to victimology. —Emily pointed out.

—If we go over victimology one more time, I will hand in my resignation. —Morgan answered— we have two bodies, no forensic evidence, no clear M.O. other than the deaths being sloppily staged as a suicide, and the only thing linking these people so far, it’s that they were all part of the same FBI academy class. 

—Okay, what about the profile? —JJ asked.

—We can only have a draft for now, the information we’ve got is not enough. —Rossi responded— We know it’s gotta be someone who is reckless or imbalanced, hence why he got kicked out of the academy, but smart enough to be admitted as a trainee in the first place. He has criminology knowledge, yet that can be easily explained by his time as a trainee. 25 to 35 years old. Underachiever. Narcissistic. Mission oriented…

—So, our average weirdo. —Penelope interrupted him, and Rossi nodded in disappointment.

Everyone’s spirit seemed to be down. Empty containers of chinese food laid on top of the round table mixed with files and gruesome crime scenes pictures. No one was paying attention anymore. Hotch decided to look at the time, it was close to midnight. It had been the third night in a row the team had put in the extra hours, not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but the burn out was evident.

—Alright, everyone, let’s go home. —the boss commanded.

—Hotch, we’re not any closer to finding these men. —the muscular man mentioned.

—We’re not doing ourselves any favors by exhausting our energy. Unfortunately, we won’t have much to go on until…

—Until another victim turns up? —you asked, your tone slightly accusatory.

—I understand it’s hard, but that’s usually how profiling works. —everyone shot you a look at his words, mostly trying to make sure you still felt okay. You simply sighed and shrugged the question off. Aaron kept staring to figure out your emotions, but given the time, and the fact that you were also exhausted, he decided it was better to not profile you— We’ll come in at 10, make sure to rest well, we’ll start fresh tomorrow and, hopefully, we’ll be able to see something new.

The team began to gather their belongings, and one by one gave you a reassuring pat on the back before they exited the building. Hotch and Reid were the only ones left while you were still on your desk, reluctantly putting your stuff in your bag to go home.

—Are you going down? —your boss asked, his briefcase already dangling from his hand, your best friend standing next to him.

—Uh, you can go ahead —you replied— I have to do something, but I’ll be right down. —with that said, you stood up and directed yourself to the bathroom. The two men exchanged puzzled glances and sighed in defeat.

You took your time staring at your own reflection. You looked like hell, gently put. You hadn’t slept much. Mixed feelings and thoughts haunting the possibility of unconsciousness every night since his disappearance. You knew it was their job, but the truth was that your team was working extra-hard to help you through it, and you hadn’t been exactly the most pleasant companion during the investigation. Your hostility towards Hotch was unfunded, his patience with you even more so, and you knew you would have to apologize later.

There was no use beating yourself over it now, but you just couldn’t go and rest while your friend’s body could turn up at any minute. You threw some cold water over your face to scare off the drowsiness and decided to head back to the round table. To your surprise, a familiar shape was already sitting on his usual spot during morning meetings.

—What are you still doing here, Reid? —you asked. His head immediately raised to meet your eyes with a faint smile.

—I knew you would stay behind. Figured you could use some company.

—Well, you could use some sleep.

—I had a very heavy dinner, the kitchen’s coffee pot is filled to the brim with espresso, and if I need a nap, I’ll just take Morgan’s couch. —his talking was fast, not allowing for you to interrupt him at any second, and once he was done, he signaled to the chair next to him which already had an open file before it.

You rolled your eyes at his persistence. However, you knew that deep down you were just trying to deflect the warmth that it spread to your chest, but at last you decided to obey his command. Within seconds, both of your heads were buried in FBI files. You decided to go back to victimology, and after an hour of rolling over it, you had come to the same conclusions as earlier that week. Frustrated, you threw the folder on the table, letting it shut close, and you leaned back on your chair, a loud huff leaving your lips as you stared at the ceiling.

—This was dumb, we’re not getting anywhere. Let’s just call it a night. —you spurted out in disappointment.

—Come on, we can still crack something new. —Spencer said without looking up from the paper he was reading.

—Perhaps these were just victims of opportunity. Nothing about this makes sense. The only person who sticks out is Conrad, and even so, he was just a DC police desk clerk, who would have a problem with him? —you continued to complain, part of it was directed to yourself, still angered that you hadn’t been able to figure it out. After seconds of silence, you realized Spencer hadn’t added anything to the conversation, and so you turned to look at him. To your surprise, he was already intently looking at your expression with pity written on his face, which took you aback— What?

—Nothing. It’s just… —he made a quick pause— I know you’re fond of him, but during the entire investigation you haven’t really mentioned him much.

He was right. You had refrained yourself from saying his name. You figured, maybe, if you held to the same hope the families did, if you kept him frozen in your memories, if you remembered him as your old friend, and not as a victim, he would remain as such, and the next day he would be safe and sound, like he had been years ago. Your brows furrowed and your hands went back to the table.

—You don’t expect doctors to get sick, right? What kind of agent am I if I can’t keep safe the very people I wanted to protect in the first place? —you said, pain vibrating in your voice. 

—Only that doctors do get sick.

—Yeah, I guess you are right. —your tone dropped at his observation, sadness taking over you instead.

—Can I ask you something rather personal? —Reid inquired once he realized the emotions he had stirred. You raised your eyebrows curiously, but nodded in agreement anyways— How come you hadn’t contacted him in so long? I mean, I know this job can get in the way of many things, but not even a phone call?

Yes, Spencer was bad at fixing unfortunate comments. Yet, he wasn’t wrong. There were many reasons to not look back at your old pal, to not seek him after, but just as one shall not speak ill of the dead, you had refused to go over the bad memories that would taint the image you had of him. Nonetheless, there was no fooling Spencer, not only because he was a human lie detector, but because he knew you better than anyone else.

—Have you ever looked back and realized you didn’t really like the person you were? —your elbow propped on the table and your cheek rested on your palm to be looking at Spencer. You watched as he took a quick glance at his forearm, and he cleared his throat before he nodded; reality hit you that he was probably remembering the time he struggled with addiction, and you felt a wave of guilt in you, paired with intense pride. He had overcome it almost by himself, but before you allowed your mind to sink deep into the marvelous being Spencer Reid was, you continued your story. —He guided me through my first days of the academy, I was new to Virginia, everything was scary. He became my best friend, I trusted him, during tactical missions, during exams, he had my back, I had his.

—Then what happened? —he asked once you stopped to gather your breath.

—He was holding me back. —you admitted out loud for the first time in your life, him being the first person you have ever told this to— Gideon was teaching a mental disorders assessment class back then, and I got really into it, and so did Conrad, but I was the one who formed rapport with Jason, a friendship really, and so he would help me outside of class, show me additional techniques and cases, he introduced me to Hotch, all while Conrad was struggling to pass his S.W.A.T certifications.

—We met around that time. —he pointed out, smiling a bit to himself. 

—Right, I was doing research for a class and Gideon showed me around the office, and he ended up introducing us. I met Morgan as well, and Elle was still here. —you smiled as you recalled your first time within these walls— See? I was going places, I was trying to start my career, I really wanted to be hired as a Special Agent, and so did Conrad, no matter what it took. Before the final tactical exam, we had to take the mental disorders assessment test. He was already engaged back then, you know? And I knew he was having problems with his fiancé, he came to me, he said he was feeling depressed, and he wanted to make sure it wouldn’t turn up on his assessment, that it was temporary until things got better. He asked me to make a mock test from him, since I surely had access to the test beforehand.

—Because we, the BAU, were the ones who made the questions. —Spencer mentioned in a sudden realization, and you nodded ashamedly.

—I had already taken mine, and so I told Gideon I wanted to quote it for my research, and he gave me a copy. Conrad took it, I went over his answers, and I taught him what to change in order to pass the evaluation.

—Did you ever tell Gideon?

—No. —you shook your head— I knew him enough to understand he would have ended my career then and there, and if anyone were to find out now, I could have my badge taken away. 

—What were the results? —he asked with genuine curiosity, although disapprovingly shaking his head.

—Lack of social skills, narcissistic tendencies, present sociopathy-related traits. He would have never gotten a badge; he wouldn’t have even been allowed to do the final tactical exam if it weren’t for me.

—You put a lot at risk for him. —he paused as if he was trying to find the right way to phrase his next question— Why?

—He was my partner, I felt like I had a duty to protect him. —you reached over to land a hand on his shoulder— Like I have protected you, and will continue to protect you. 

—Yeah, but I would never ask you to do anything like that. I wouldn’t jeopardize your dreams for my own sake. 

—I know. —you said sincerely— It was stupid and reckless. But it made me realize something important; that it didn’t matter how much I cared for Conrad, he needed me more than I needed him, I was going to be okay on my own. After he got married, I figured, well, he’s someone else’s problem now, you know?

Your latter sentence felt a lot more relaxed, and you said it in a half-heartedly joking manner. You realized, however, that Spencer had stopped paying attention somewhere along the way, his lips were parted open, and he had that dissociated look in his eyes.

—Needed him more…—he mumbled as he reached out for Conrad’s file—That’s it!

—What’s it? —you asked as you watched him stand up away from your reach and toward the board.

—Think about it, you’re an Unsub, if your purpose is to kill, why would you keep someone around?

—Well, —you took a second to rack your brain— if they were the object of my rage, I would torture them first.

—But there’s no record of sadism, in fact, both deaths so far have been rather painless. He hasn’t killed Carlos or Conrad because he needs them to get to the real object of his rage. —he began to speak faster by the second— We know he’s targeting FBI employees that have some connection to his time in the academy, but even administrative clerks have their files protected by the FBI database encryption system, hence why he needs Carlos, he’s a Human Resources clerk at Quantico, he has access to the files, addresses, phone numbers, anything so employees can be localized. However, if his end game is to kill an SSA or a higher rank, their files would be far more complicated to obtain. You need to put in a requisition and it has to be approved by other HR superiors and then accessed with your own password, so he would need to keep Carlos alive until he got the approval. 

—But why would he need Conrad then?

—This is just a theory, but there were no signs of forced entry in any of the victims’ houses, which suggests they either knew the UnSub or he presented as non-threatening. Both murders were late at night and in not exactly the safest areas. Who do you open the door for, without hesitation, in the middle of the night and in the heart of a big metropolitan city?

—The police. —you said with certain disbelief.

—Smith was put on desk duty, but he was hired as a cop, he was never demoted, just moved, which means he gets to keep his badge, and that his badge number is still active. —he pointed at the information on the file— I don’t know how, but I think he’s using officer Smith to have access to the houses, and Carlos to get their locations. 

—There’s one problem, though, how did he get the locations for the first two employees? He didn’t have access to Carlos yet, he was only reported missing after the first two bodies appeared. 

Your observation put Reid back into deep thought, he stared at the timeline drawn on the board again, and suddenly, an idea popped into his head, or so you could notice by the way he fumbled with his phone, quickly dialing a known number. 

—Hi, Garcia?—he began talking into the speaker—Yes, I know it’s 2 am, and I’m very sorry, but I really need you to check something for me. Do you have access to the HR databases from your home computer? —he waited a second for her to respond— I don’t really need anything deep right now, I just want to confirm if Carlos Gonzalez was actively working during the two weeks prior to his disappearance. We might have caught a break, but I want to confirm a theory before I call everyone in again. Okay, contact me back if you have something. —with said words, he hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

—You’re thinking Carlos disappeared way before he was reported missing, aren’t you? —you inquired as you watched him move some things up on the board

—If I’m right, it means he’s had Carlos help him all along. 

—As hostage or partner? —you asked him, but he simply shook his head, unsure of what the real answer was. He fell quiet, and his hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, it was obvious he was nervous about something. Your eyebrows raised questioningly, it would be so much easier if he just spoke up his mind whenever he got a new thought— What now? 

—It would also confirm that you’re part of the suspect pool. 

—Well, if he has my file, he’ll know that I was the best tactical in my class, so good luck. —your eyes had traveled back to the board, your arms crossed over your chest as you examined the evidence hung from it. Out of the corner of your eye, you were able to spot Spencer dropping his head, and you turned to confirm he was alright; instead, you heard him sniffle. Panic took over you, and you reached closer to cup his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. —Hey, hey, what’s going on? 

—I just… —he started, struggling to find the right words— Garcia has been shot, Foyet got to Haley, Gideon couldn’t stop Frank, —he made a small pause to swallow a particularly thick knot on his throat— and doctors can get sick. 

—Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Spencer. You hear me? —you said resolutely. You didn’t realize when, but his arms had wrapped around your middle, and slowly your arms began to circle the area of his neck. —You’re not getting rid of me that easily. 

He still seemed unable to speak. His head simply leaned forward, forehead falling on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, and you allowed yourself to do so as well. After seconds of complete silence, an eternal moment of enjoying each other’s presence, you felt his hands explore further up, he caressed up your clothed back until one of them finally reached your hair. His fingers tangled on your locks and he finally pushed your head toward him, letting his lips fall on yours in a deep kiss. 

This one was different from the ones you had shared before during sex, it was deep, but slow, your lips moved so gently because his were also taking their time. He was savoring you, and you could tell. Your breaths were loud, every so often gasping for air, mouths unable, and unwilling, to pull apart. The ringing of his phone reminded you briefly of where you were and who was kissing you, but firm hands against your cheeks kept your head in place before you could pull away. He had the utter intention to ignore it, but right before the last tone rang he seemed to remember that he was, indeed, waiting for a call. 

—It’s Garcia. —he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away and rushed to get the device from the table, hitting the speaker button right away— Hey, Penelope, you are on speaker. 

—For a second I thought you weren’t going to pick up, and I swear to God, Reid, if you had woken me up from my beauty slumber, in which Ricky Martin was swearing eternal devotion to me, solely so you could fall asleep right away, the punishment I’d have landed upon you would have made those medieval torture instruments documentaries, that you like so much, look like the hairspray movie, and yes, I do mean the one with John Travolta. —Spencer and you exchanged horrified glances, unable to form a sentence to answer her— Anyways, I can’t access the files from my house network, I’d have to come into the office to connect through LAN to get them without being flagged as a national threat, again. But catch this, your boy Carlos bought a complete package deal on GayEuropeanTours.com, and I mean the whole package, Madrid, Milan, Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, Brussels, like the party capitals. His plane was supposed to arrive in Barcelona one week before the first murder and the entire tour was supposed to last about three weeks. 

—Is there any way to confirm that he wasn’t on that plane? —you asked on the phone. 

—I can’t have access to airline databases from here, this info I got from a facebook post he made two months ago. However, check this out, no one would pay so much money for a trip without posting pictures to brag a bit, right? His instagram has quite the few of them on it. 

—So he did go on the trip. —Reid muttered disappointed. 

—Tonight we finally have proof of who’s the smartest blond in the office, my dear braniac. —Penelope bragged, and Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion— Social media can say a lot about a person, Reid, Carlos would often post pictures of himself, his outfits, selfies, he was all about that self-love, but the europe ones include only food and places, beautiful architecture by the way, yet his face nowhere to be seen, I reverse-searched some of them and found out they were taken off the internet; and it doesn’t end there, I also looked at the metadata of the pictures, they were all posted at the same time, one per day, and through what seems to be an automated third party service to schedule posts. 

—Can we get a location? —he asked 

—My tracking software is at the office, but I’m packing my things as we speak. 

—Penelope, call Morgan and Prentiss, Spencer get Hotch and brief him on what we deduced so far, I’ll get JJ and Rossi, if we can track a location tonight, we might still be able to find Conrad alive. —you ordered the two of them and heard the line go dead at the end of your sentence. 

Spencer hurried to get his phone to dial Hotch’s number as fast as he could, and you stuck to your own orders, getting Rossi on the line almost right away. It felt good, the hope invading your body once again, it beamed, it felt warm and cold at the same time. There was a chance, a chance to save him. A chance for things to go back to what they were.

—Hotch? Listen, we figured out something important, we need everyone back as soon as- —you heard him stop mid-sentence while you waited for the call to connect to Jennifer’s number, but before you heard her voice, Spencer turned in your direction, his voice sounding concerned and surprised— What?

—What is it? — you rushed to ask, his concern quickly rubbing on you. 

—They just found another body that might be connected to our unsub. 

—But we never got a missing person’s report. —you pointed out with disbelief. 

Spencer’s saddened eyes gave you the answer you were avoiding to find. No one else had been reported, so the body could belong to any of the two current missing people. Either Carlos Gonzalez, or Conrad Smith. 

[merge-conflict]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @luvwich 😼 and definitely didn't forget about this for almost a week

When did you start writing?

I think I was writing self-insert naruto fanfiction when I was 12 lol. After high school I stopped writing for about ten years, and finally picked it up again in 2020 when I was unemployed.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't think so- I mostly read SFF but everything I read that I like ends up thrown into my writing in some way or another. I've been wanting to expand into maybe not other themes/genres but other forms of writing? Games writing has a lot of interesting things like handling branching paths & worldbuilding/contextual/found note stuff that I think I would enjoy but I'm not quite there yet.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

No one has ever compared me to writers that I'm aware of and there's no one that I specifically emulate. However after writing a fair amount and then re-reading some of my favored books I can see where I've picked up bits of style. Recently I noticed some stuff from Gillian Flynn and Ann Leckie that I realize I do in my writing as well. I guess for me it's less emulating or channeling a writer than wanting to use one of their tools that I admire, if that makes sense?

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don't have a writing space per se. When I was really ill I wrote in bed, sometimes I write in my home office. Sometimes I'm standing, sitting, laying down. Most often I have a little lap desk and I'll be in the living room on the couch, either on my laptop or writing on paper.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Annoyingly if I'm not already plagued by something then resting for a while usually brings on a muse. If I'm healthy and emotionally stable then there's usually something scratching at the back of my head that is inspiring me to write. If not, well- then I'm probably not going to get much done or be able to summon a muse.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Oh boy, yeah. Lots of transgender and identity adjacent stuff. Learning to live with what you have and maybe even like it. Being horny at inopportune times. Characters being forced to consider what they want and maybe even ask for it to turn their lives around. How life is so goddamn weird and messy and beautiful. None of it is surprising in general but I do sometimes get blindsided in editing by how yet again I've managed to hit the same theme (but it feels good!)

What is your reason for writing?

If I don't get the words and the stories out of me I get sick.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

People telling me they want to read more is always really motivating! I also get extremely chuffed if someone says they've had a similar idea to what I had or had read a character the same way- it's like knowing that someone else wants to see the story play out and I need to keep writing it.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I'm just a silly little guy who is also handsome and perfect (and humble).

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I work really hard on balance in writing, and I feel like I do a pretty good job with that one a strategic and tactical level. Things like allowing some time to breathe, and then having moments where things are chaos. Or the tone of a chapter- putting a little laughter in grief, or a some sadness in joy to enhance the flavor. :3

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm so glad I started writing again, and I'm so glad I never gave in to the early desire to delete everything I didn't like. Mostly how I feel is that it's so much fun, and it's satisfying to write, and I feel like I'm learning on the go. I reread my stuff a lot because it's for *me* and I love it even with its flaws. I made that!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I write mostly for myself, although obviously like everyone else I also want everyone else to enjoy it (mostly in the sense that since I like it I think everyone else should too lol). But I realize that's not practical and that's okay too- like I said, I reread my own stuff and enjoy it so while I'm of course always looking for ways to collab or share with others it's really me following my heart.

Not tagging because I'm late to the game and I'm not sure who's already been asked or played. But as always an open tag to anyone who wants to play :3 tag me back so I can read your interview!

[theneighborhoodwatch]

It makes me sorta sad that people constantly overlook that Poppy is disabled as per her character description. It literally says her puppet is built in a way where other puppets end up being the ones doing most of the work on-set because it's difficult to impossible for her. Poppy isn't baking cakes; she's likely directing other her other friends in how to bake a cake because she's incapable of actually doing most of the labor involved (which is probably a lot more fun when you love in a children's puppet show, and probably becomes way less fun after said show ends). Her daily life likely relies on help from her loved ones. In this case, her friends. She's not just an anxious hermit, she's an anxious *disabled* hermit who probably needs to be checked up on so long as people are able to do that. And depending on what's going on in Welcome Home that might not be a thing that happens anymore. Being left to the mercy of your own disability mental and otherwise while the world falls apart. As a disabled person in a similar position, *that* is some frickin horror.

... OH.

well, now i feel very silly for not considering this earlier, given how much i've talked about how one's autonomy (and how their life is affected by the lack thereof) seems to be something that comes a LOT in both what little we've seen of welcome home proper and what's been alluded to in concept art and some posts scattered around clown's blog. i'd point out that her bio provides an in-show explanation for why other puppets often end up assisting her (i.e. Scared) but i don't think that even has to be mutually exclusive. that fear could be - and probably is - genuine, but like. i Remember both myself* and physically disabled friends scrambling for more "socially acceptable" excuses to get out of something we knew we couldn't do before we knew what was going on with us, and continuing to do so even after finding out because you either knew for a fact that the other person wouldn't take you seriously if you told them you couldn't do (x) thing because of a disability, or because you weren't sure if they would (thanks to the behavior of people who did not.) i'm not Saying that welcome home is aiming to reflect that exact experience, because there isn't nearly enough of welcome home that's publicly available for me to make that claim, but i was reminded of that while thinking about this ask.

i'm picking up what you're putting down is what i think i'm trying to say. i could say More wrt how this ties back into some stuff i've talked about under the "wh speculation" tag before, but i have a hard time putting it into the right words and i don't wanna take too much away from the ask itself. c'est la vie. * to clarify, i am not physically disabled or chronically ill. mentally though, it's a whole other story that i don't feel like getting into on my Funny Puppet Torment Nexus Blog.