#I’m still somewhat optimistic

[gulski2]

Bellingham price tag be like

[yellobb]

Day 1 - Dream

[yourqueenb]

No, i definitely agree with you. The character development of the og blades cast (MC included) is not matching with the story they're telling. It seems like the writers wanted to get from point A to point B but didn't fully consider the changes their characters had to go through in the process, and that's why their actions are at odds. I hope that, now that the big plot points have been introduced, they can focus on the characters too.

Yeah, I don’t have anything to add here other than I’m honestly starting to lose a bit of hope in this book. And I never thought that would happen

[papayadays]

miami

summary: lando x american!reader gf - lando gets his first win in miami, and you’re there for it

a/n: for lando’s amazing race win!! so proud and over the moon <33 also this is very self indulgent (*cough* especially the mit part), omg 

warnings: none i think, fluff, happiness, maybe language like once or twice?

“it’s lights out and away we go!” you heard crofty say. you watched the screen anxiously as you always did with race starts, fiddling with your rings. in the mclaren garage, you heard a collective gasp as checo locked up, nearly taking lando and both ferraris out. then there were cheers as oscar got p4 and then p3, but you were hardly paying attention.

“that was stupid,” you muttered under your breath. “he could’ve ruined so many people’s races.” feeling a gentle prod on your shoulder, you turned around.

“dear, maybe don’t say that here,” your mother advised. “you know how that fans are going to take it.” your dad nodded silently in agreement as you sighed reluctantly.

“fine,” you conceded, biting your nails absentmindedly. “i’m glad y’all are here though.” it was the miami grand prix, and you and your family were in the garage watching your boyfriend. it was very convenient that your family was already on the east coast and florida was always a welcome getaway. this was one of the first races you could actually go to since you were busy with college, studying engineering at mit. to be quite honest, you were probably only going to be able to make it to the three us races and maybe a summer race or two.

you remember the conversation you had with lando before the race. “today is a day full of possibilities,” you heard him mumble to himself. walking towards, him you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

“it is,” you agreed, pecking his lips. “podium at least, i think. the car has pace, starting spot is good, data looks nice, ferrari will probably fuck up, and i believe in you.”

his grip on you tightened as he let out a sigh. “every time i think it will go well, things fall apart, with the sprint quali, the sprint race, regular quali,” he said, disappointed. “i just want to do well at your home race, and with your family there too.”

you moved his head to meet your gaze. “lan, you will always make me proud no matter what,” you stated softly. “and my family adores you too. just go out there, and work your magic. i love you, baby.”

lando gave you a wide smile, making your heart flutter as he nestled his head on your shoulder. “thanks, love,” he grinned. “i’ll try and be more positive. i love you too.”

“is it warm in miami?” cisca asked over your phone’s facetime. you had called them since they were back in bristol so you could all be connected as you watched lando.

“very,” you nodded, smiling at your boyfriend’s mother. “but, nothing i’m not used to, i suppose. one summer, when we came to disney, it was sweltering. at least the roller coasters helped cool me off.” this earned a snort from adam, who was staring intently at their tv.

you turned back to the screen, seeing oscar rising up while lando was still behind checo. mouth pressed into a line, you fiddled with your thumbs, looking at your papaya orange nails.

soon, checo had pitted, and you knew that the ferraris and oscar were going to respond to that. earlier, you had talked to will about doing a one stopper, which they were optimistic for, but that was on the premise that a late safety car would come out. you walked over the the panels, observing the telemetry wordlessly, noticing the promising signs of pace.

after the influx of stops, max soon peeled into the pits after hitting a cone -much to your surprise - leaving your boyfriend in first place. “please let the one stopper work,” you murmured. “we need a hail mary overcut.” the performance engineer flashed you an amused look for a brief moment before turning back to the data.

lando maintained the lead, a somewhat-comfortable margin to max, which was baffling you, but also was something you had predicted. suddenly, there was a ruckus in the garage. your eyes had been fixed on the telemetry, so when you eyed the screen, your hand flew to your face, adrenaline pumping through you. “oh my god, oh my god!” you exclaimed. “safety car!” logan had crashed out, and you would be sure to talk to your fellow american later to reassure him, but not now.

the pit crew immediately rushed out, with lando coming in to capitalize on this opportunity. it was a perfect stop, and as he came back out, he came back out with a substantial gap to max, a whole lap ahead of the safety car. please, please, please, you silently prayed.

at the restart, your heart was pounding as max moved closer and closer, about to pounce before lando closed the door on him, pulling away. you let out a sigh of relief, hands at your chest, before glancing back at the data. your eyes widened. the car was flying. with the new hards and fast car, it was like all the pieces were falling into place. your hands flew up to cup your mouth, nervous gibberish coming out as your mother wrapped her arm around your shoulder and cisca gave you an understanding smile.

as the gap to max grew, your freaking out worsened substantially. “oh my lord, please,” you repeated for the umpteenth time, hands still over your mouth. “c’mon, lan.” with each lap, you felt your heart swelling with hope.

and in the blink of an eye, you were on lap 57. “oh my god, he’s gonna do it!” you whispered shouted. you watched as lando rounded the last corner, face stretching into a wide grin. then, he crossed the line. “OH MY GOD HE DID IT!” tears of joy started to stream down your face as you grinned at the screen, barely feeling yourself being pulled into a hug by your parents. over the phone, cisca and adam were freaking out as well, ecstatic at their son winning his first race. “lando, oh my god, oh my fucking god, he’s a race winner!”

you high fived everyone you could reach in the garage, cheers ringing out, before making your way down to the pit lane. “zak, he did it!” you exclaimed, not wanting to bother will yet. the ceo pulled you into a hug, his face red with excitement. your fellow american grinned as you turned to will, tapping his shoulder and giving him a silent thumbs up. here, you could hear lando’s radio, with his cheering that made even more tears fall down your face and then him saying he loved the team. then, he said, “we did it, will!” and that hit you hard, full on sobbing with joy now.

you made your way with the rest of the team to parc ferme, where you saw lando’s mclaren park on the track. he took his time, getting out and pointing a finger to the sky as he stood on his car. you clapped your hands as hard as you could, voice the loudest you’ve ever heard you use.

then, he took off his helmet, revealing the brown curls you loved so much as he made his way. you could spot his smile from miles away, making your heart melt. then, he grinned at the team, putting down his helmet and running at them, leaping into their arms. you could hear his laughs between his sobs, and you pulled you phone out for a quick picture, wanting a picture to save forever. he was fucking on top of the world in that moment, just like he was your world. lando was set back in front of the metal barriers and zak hugged him, hopefully not breaking any ribs.

then came andrea, and the moment was so heartwarming, you almost didn’t see will pushing you past the barriers. then lando was in front of you, arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you in for a deep, magical kiss. you felt all of his emotions, and you tried to convey your pride. “lan, baby, race fucking winner!” you exclaimed, tears still running down your face. “it’s been a long time coming, but it’s finally your day and you deserve it so much. i’ve been dreaming of this for you, and i’m so glad i could be here for it. this is your moment, and i am so, so fucking proud of you. i love you so much, lando.” your smile was impossibly wide as you gazed at your amazing boyfriend, the moment still not quite sinking in yet.

he was ushered to interviews, but not after he was congratulated by half the grid. it made you chuckle, to see how loved your boyfriend was, even among his rivals. he couldn’t stop smiling the entire interview as jenson reflected on everything. you too, started remembering his journey, back when he was a rookie in 2019, to his podium in austria, to sochi’s heartbreak, to all his podiums, and now. you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard lando say, “this one is for a lot of the special people in my life. my grandma, my parents, my girlfriend and her family, who happen to live in the us, and lastly, for the team. i love you all, and thank you so much for everything.”

afterwards, you tuned out of max and charles interviews, eyes fixed on your boyfriend as he went to get ready for the podium. everything was a blur up until they announced lando, the race winner. you cheered like you had never cheered before, wiping away the ever flowing tears as he pumped his fist, moving to stand on the top step. finally, after so long.

the british national anthem started playing, and you noticed the pride etched onto lando’s smile. you mouthed along the words, having learned them years ago for this specific scenario. your eyes were trained on him, something he noticed as he gave you a wink, grin widening at seeing you singing his national anthem.

after the music ended, you laughed as max and charles wasting no time in spraying your boyfriend in champagne. he looked so thrilled and you wanted that memory seared into the back of your eyelids. lando’s bottle smash seemed brilliant this time and the tears finally stopped as you gazed up at him, beaming with happiness. that was your boy.

then, lando was quick to exit the stage, heading back down to the team where he quickly pulled you into his arms. “baby, y/n, love!” he exclaimed, pressing kisses all over your face. “i actually did it!”

“you did,” you responded, voice filled with glee. “i’m so, so proud of you, lan! about fucking time. huh, nico was right. lando norris, you’re a race winner. and this is your time to shine.” you pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck in a euphoric kiss.

“this one’s for you baby,” lando grinned. “and there’s more to come.”

[angelicpoison12]

walking w/ the eggs ღ

You help Alastor with getting rid of the eggs. Of course, more bonding is done rather than harm.

MFA, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Who would’ve thought some talkative, energetic, and annoying eggs could’ve brought you and Alastor closer?

— ✩ —

You finally finished hammering in the final nail to Charlie’s poster. It read, ‘Happy 1st Week, Sir Pentious’. Charlie was so bubbly and full of energy as she told Vaggie, “I’m so happy Sir Pentious decided to stay at the hotel!” You noticed she was so excited that she dragged out the ‘el’ in ‘hotel’, and it was really cute. That was just something Charlie often did, and you adored it. You kinda wished you could be as optimistic as her. “Uhm, just a few days ago, he was trying to blow up the hotel..” Vaggie cautiously reminded Charlie. Sir Pentious then walked by with a large machine; it looked like the combination of a canon ball and a flamethrower. Your eyes widened, and all you did was nudge Vaggie nervously, climbing down the ladder you were on. “Uhm, Sir Pentious, what’s that?” You asked nervously. “Ah! Hello, my fellow resssident! I call this ‘The Ssskin Flayer 1100’! It issss my newessst invention! I am looking forward to ssshooting the other ressidents!” “What?! Why?” Charlie asked, seeming confused. You noticed Sir Pentious press against his creation almost protectively as he nearly hissed under his breath, “Everyone is too nice! It musst be some sort of trick!” Vaggie then sighed as she said “Pentious, people are nice because they’re genuinely nice. Nobody wants to hurt you-“ Right before she could finish, one of Sir Pentious’s egg minions snapped a latch on his invention, causing a beamed hole to burn through the ceiling above us.

Everyone’s jaw seemed to drop, and Vaggie cried out, “UGH! What did I say?! What did I just say? No more eggs!” “Not my little egg boyss! They do my evil bidding for me!” Pentious shrieked, his arms wrapping around their bulbous bodies. “Do you want to stay here and redeem yourself?” Vaggie asked, her arms crossed. “Y.. Yesss..?” “Then no more eggs. And no more buying parts or making weapons.” Sir Pentious was so sad. You kinda felt bad for him, to be honest. He sobbed and wailed as he waved off his eggs, watching them walk away.

“I need to get rid of these things..” Vaggie moaned in annoyance. You perked up, quickly saying, “I’ll help!” “I know you want to help, Y/N, and I appreciate that.” Vaggie said with a sheepish grin. “But I won’t let you do this alone. You’re still a little new, and I don’t want anything happening to you.” “I’m strong! I can take it-“ “I mean.. I don’t want you getting mugged or something, Y/N. You’re smaller than us, I just want you to be okay.” You rolled your eyes and huffed playfully at that. The eggs followed you and Vaggie as you both walked to Alastor’s room.

Vaggie opened Alastor’s door. He was sitting at a fancy small round table, fork and knife in hands, cutting into a decaying deer. He was humming, twisting his fork in its innards and eating it. You were glad you had a somewhat strong stomach. Thankfully you couldn’t smell it for some reason, but the deer looked oddly lacking in color.

“Alastor!” Vaggie called to him. Alastor stopped, still widely smiling, fork full of grayish meat almost to his lips. “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of breakfast.” Alastor said calmly. Vaggie sighed irritatedly, the eggs behind you and her slapping each other and fighting like toddlers on a mini playground. “Pentious’s eggs are out of hand and I need you to get rid of them,” Vaggie told Alastor. He immediately stood up, his cane appearing out of nowhere, popping into his hand. “Oh! Well in that case, I’d be delighted to!” Alastor said, his smile wide-not in a genuinely happy way, but in a sinister way. Vaggie then calmly said, “.. Humanely.” “Hm. Well that’s a lot less fun; but, I guess I can take care of them on my outing today.” Alastor said in a chirp, walking past us. You followed behind Alastor, trying to keep up with him and his face pace in walking.

— ✩ —

The eggs were annoying as fuck. And not the subtle, soft annoyance; they were genuinely annoying. Like blisters on the back of your ankles after walking for a day on a hike.

“Oh boy! What’s the plan boss?”

“I like your suit!”

“What are the antlers for?”

“Can I touch your staff thing?”

“Are those your ears? Or is it your hair? I can’t tell!”

You noticed Alastor’s eye visibly twitched a little, and it made you have to refrain from giggling. It was adorable. Oddly enough, Alastor didn’t snap at the eggs. In fact, all he responded with was, “Follow in silence if you value your shell,” whilst tapping his staff against one of the egg’s shells kindly. Alastor walked with you, his hand accidentally brushing against yours. His skin visibly prickled. “Oh! I apologize, Y/N.” His speech was formal, yet hints of nervousness were in there. All you did was say quietly, “It’s fine, Al, really.”

Alastor couldn’t get rid of the eggs no matter what he did. And eventually, they were whining and moaning about being hungry. “You little creatures require food, too? Very well,” Alastor said tiredly, his voice in clear annoyance. We stopped at a small shop where it seemed to be a bakery. All of the little egg boys got a blueberry muffin, Alastor got an egg sandwich in spite of the situation, and you just settled for a smoothie. Everyone was at a round table like a tiny family almost. The egg minions wouldn’t stop fussing and slapping each other for each other’s muffins. You found it rather entertaining and amusing. Alastor just sat, smiling and humming.

“You know, Y/N..” Alastor’s voice caught you off guard. You looked at him, eyes wide as you waited for him to finish. “You’re not a bad egg.” “I’m sorry?” “What I mean, is you’re quite welcoming, Y/N. You seem kind.. I like someone who is kind.” His words made your cheeks flush. Alastor was known for not liking affection, or taking a fancy into anyone. But maybe you were special. Alastor gently patted the top of your head, his claws surprisingly soft even though they looked sharp.

You were a good egg, he said. Meaning you were special to him.

— ✩ —

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

[ambrozjas]

HII!! i saw in your bio that your requests are closed but i also see you responding to asks??? so i'm sosososo sorry if i wasn't supposed to ask but i just needed the gang (separate) x super energetic n positive reader (so like pinkie pie irl !) :3 again im sorry if i confused things with your requests!!!

the gang with an energetic!reader ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

this is actually a great question and i thank you for asking it ^-^!! the reqs i’m responding to are just requests that are stacked up in my inbox, so when i have them closed, it just means i’m trying to catch up on asks and that i don’t prefer asks at that time :) i did LOVE writing this though, so thank you for asking about that i appreciate you trying to respect it !! ^_^ 🫶

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

let me know if there r any i need to add!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“you had fun today?” came DARRY’s voice from the left of you as he sat in the driver’s seat, taking you home. you guys had decided to take johnny, sodapop, and ponyboy to the oklahoma state fair, which would explain the sleepiness that laced his tone. you, though, would practically be vibrating in your seat if it wasn’t for darry’s hand resting on your thigh.

still pumped up from the crazy rides at the fair, your eyes roamed across all the bright lights littering the city as you looked out of the car window.

“so much.” you responded, beaming at your boyfriend next to you before taking a look in the rearview mirror and spotting the boys asleep in the backseat.

“you think they did, too?” you asked darry, lips pouting dramatically at how cute the boys looked, even when soda was practically drooling on pony.

darry gave you a small ‘mhm’, a tiny smile growing on his face when he looked back at them too. “y’sure you’re not tired?”

“i’m so awake right now, dare.” you chuckled a bit, turning back around and resting your head against the car seat’s headrest.

you gave a few quiet ‘ooh’s as you both were still exiting oklahoma city, even if you guys were still a long way from tulsa, looking at all the bright lights and arrows urging future customers to visit the fair.

darry scoffed as he saw the pile of cars across the way, lining up in one big traffic jam. then he turned his head to look at you, he wondered how you could always be so optimistic. he smiled fondly to himself as he watched you, head held in your hands as the exotic lights bounced off your irises, reflecting all sorts of neon pinks and blues in your eyes as you didnt take them off the noisy attractions.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“be careful now darlin’, you’ll slip!” SODAPOP laughs as you two come down from the intense food fight you just had in the kitchen.

it all started with you accidentally dusting the counters a bit too hard when some flour landed on sodapop’s open plaid shirt. now you two were both covered in various ingredients, you’re sure the yolk would take about an hour to rinse out of your hair properly. the baking you guys were doing was forgotten in the background as the batter had probably already somewhat hardened during sodapop’s sugar assault on your favorite top.

you laughed as he held your waist, the both of you looking down at where your foot was just about to fall on the slippery remainder of egg yolk and milk on the kitchen floor. “that’s your mess!”

“you started it!”

“it was an accident, soda—!” sodapop placed a chaste kiss against your lips, licking his own after he pulled away. he made a small hum sound as his eyes trailed upward when he pretended to try to guess the flavor. “hm, strawberry.”

“gross.” you rolled your eyes, the two of you laughing uncontrollably as soda eventually did slip on the exact same piece of yolk he had warned you from stepping on. that is, until you heard the strong footsteps of his older brother make his way from the front door to the kitchen.

both of your heads shot up as darry cleared his throat, crossing his arms and tilting his head. it was like he had no words for the both of you, until he shook his head once and grumbled angrily.

“y’all better clean that up.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“so i was just tellin’ her about it and y’know what this lady does?” you ranted to PONYBOY as he sat across from you at the lunch table, his fingers fiddling with the holes in the metal mesh patterned seat.

he held his chin in his palm as his eyes flickered between you and the table, watching as you rambled about something a counselor had reprimanded you for or something, all he could really focus on was you. the way your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something, the way talked with your hands a lot, or the way you bounced in your seat at just the thought of your favorite song.

pure energy always radiated off of you, not even dallas winston could resist your charm. and ponyboy curtis certainly couldn’t either.

“pony-y!” you dragged out the ‘y’ in his name as you tried to get his attention, waving a hand in front of his face. he blinked and furrowed his brows as he muttered out a quick, “huh?”

“are you even listenin’ to me?”

“‘course i am.”

“what was i talking about then?” you batted your eyelashes as you inquired in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone, leaning forward as ponyboy averted your gaze.

his face got hot while he stammered, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish before you waved a hand at him and flashed a big grin.

“my counselor.” came your sing-song tone of voice from in front of him.

“right! just.. tell me more?”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“JOHNNY, wait up!” you called after him, jogging up and gripping onto the straps of your backpack as it moved with your every step.

you saw him, head hung low as he looked so small compared to the towering figure of dallas winston right next to him. he turned around, that same puppy dog look in his eyes as usual before he looked up at dallas. dally gave johnny a quick wink before nodding his head towards me and saying his goodbyes while he walked off only god knows where—probably to stir up some more trouble.

johnny looked back at you, muttering your name as you finally caught up to him. “hey—! you goin’ home?” you asked, shifting your weight from your hands to your knees as you hunched over and caught your breath. johnny just nodded as he watched you regain composure quickly, already back and energized.

you circled around him with a flurry of questions, questions like how his day was or if he ate today. johnny always wondered why you asked him these questions, whether you cared or not was really his main concern although he’d never dare ask.

once you guys had arrived to johnny’s house though, came a ruckus from inside. the noise traveling outside the house through a sliver of open window as you both saw two figures screaming at each other.

you saw as the corners of johnny’s mouth twitched downwards as he winced at the sound of glass breaking.

then, almost like an miracle came your voice from beside him.

“wanna go to the lot?”

once he had looked at you, it was like an instant mood lifter. you had a boyish grin on your face with your hands shoved in your pockets as your eyes crinkled with how big of a smile you had glued to your face, as usual.

how could johnny deny you?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“are you always like this?” DALLAS said as he leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, watching as you danced around and made a mess with the baking supplies.

“like what?” your voice, jubilant as ever, rung out in dally’s ears. he always played it off as if he hated how joyous it was, but if he was being honest, the way the syllables rolled so quickly off your tongue was satisfying to him. he’d never admit it obviously. being dallas winston was a tough job to keep up.

you twirled around, reaching on your tippy toes to grab something off the fridge before spinning back around to pour milk in the mixing bowl, hips swaying to the faint music that you turned down to hear dallas over.

dallas scoffed, shaking his head amusedly while he lit a cigarette, eyes flickering up at you every once in awhile. “nothin’.” he muttered, words muffled around his cigarette.

he looked at you, his eyes were empty enough that anybody else would mistake his expression for annoyance, but you knew better. you knew dallas winston better than anybody. and as you danced so freely around the kitchen, like no one was watching you, dallas admired you. you were yourself, in this moment socs and greasers didn’t matter, nothing did. the only thing that mattered to you was getting these ingredients right, and you couldn’t do that with a little dancing.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“woah, darlin’! someone had a li’l too much sugar, huh?” TWO-BIT laughed as you bounced around. you were like a candle waiting to be blown out, flowing in place but still moving. you were definitely still moving.

you practically vibrated in place, your feet kicked in your seat as you giggled, talking about your day to two-bit. his grey eyes watched you with intent, his own grin painted on his face. sometimes he didn’t pay attention, other times he asked questions just at the right times. even if it was just pure luck, you appreciated his responses even if they were just ‘huh’s or ‘oh!’s.

“what do you think?” you finally stopped ranting, taking a break to ask two-bit once again what he thought.

he paused, taking a second to sip on his can of beer before looking off to the side in thought. then, as quick as it left, his smile returned as he finally laughed.

“i think you need a nap, babydoll.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“so what happened next?” STEVE asked, licking the spoon as he sat across from you in the diner as he watched you take a break from talking to devour a milkshake.

you smacked your lips as you swallowed and immediately put up your hand to express yourself further. “she cussed her out!”

steve raised his eyebrows as he broke off another piece of the diner’s famous cake—which he claimed was never better than darry’s yet he was still destroying it.

what you always appreciated about steve was his blind loyalty to you. even if he didn’t understand, his heart was in the right place. he gasped at anything dramatic, but he just loved gossip in general. him and sodapop were like kids around a campfire as they always circled around you while you explained to them the gossip going on around school.

steve watched as you rambled on and on, twirling your hair at certain parts and jumping up in your seat at important ones. by the time you both finished that conversation, your bill was racked up with how long you had took, and the waitresses were rolling your eyes at every “but, did you hear..”

that didn’t matter to you two, though. you just cared about talking to steve, and steve was too busy admiring you to care about anything else.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my favs r fluttershy n rarity but tell me why i’m literally rainbow dash irl

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck, family & alcoholism

Collection of thoughts and speculation on Chil’s upbringing, his dynamic with his family and how alcoholism ties into it all. If you want the groundwork info on Chil’s background I recommend my masterpost on his family, here beyond a summary of the facts it’s really just me speculating from the crumbs we get of his parents and siblings, how it’s all affected him and in turn affected his own wife and kids etc etc.

There’s nothing more I’d like on mother’s day than to speculate about Chilchuck’s maladaptive attachment style. I’m fascinated by how distant everyone is and how much he’s been devoted to them all despite having been so absent. Intergenerational trauma get over here

Actually it’ll be easier if I make a rundown here too, it’s just stuff I reiterate from my masterpost tho.

Tiny table of contents: 1- rundown: family facts 2- rundown: alcoholism 3- dad 4- parenting 5- daughters 6- wife

^ Every time his dad gets mentioned. His mom never gets mentioned. His siblings I think are only ever mentioned in this extra, and then there are more ambiguous relatives cameos.

We know is hometown isn’t Kahka Brud, but we’re not sure wether he moved there upon getting his own house (presumably around when he got married at 13), or if it’s only after his wife when he rented out his place to relatives then rented the place in Kahka Brud.

If he rented it out to relatives, maybe that meant it was in his hometown? Especially if he and his siblings are "almost strangers" so presumably he doesn’t really keep in touch with his family. And I mean, he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in 4 years so you can imagine how he’s like with his more distant family…

Additionally half-foots and Chil are very coded to be from an impoverished opressed working class people. So that’s the context.

I’ll say that I mentioned intergenerational trauma at the beginning, and I def think the distrust of elves is part of that, but here I want to focus on the interpersonal effects rather.

Copy pasting my masterpost thoughts overall: Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then a free range parenting sort of thing.

We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have caring people or had a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it’s the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others, they instilled somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he’s younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught.

I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal, it being worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the “alcohol” section of his Adventurer’s Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn’t hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough.  As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home and was still around when his father died, not unlike how Chil’s wife was implied to be a housewife. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to speculate about too. Mostly though I think it’s big family because it’s just sorta what happens when you regularly have sex and you don’t have contraception, being poor often makes family planning harder for various reasons and leads to more children.

Alcoholism context rundown:

Good Chilchuck analysis baseline here. Alcohol seems to be his main stress reliever/coping mechanism, especially for how emotionally constipated he is, and his job is being stressed about his party’s safety. Then he also mentions as a changeling that having his senses dulled feels relaxing to him, further confirming alcohol, as a drug that dulls senses, is something that he likes for the intoxication aspect and feels it’s relaxing. Alcohol also acts as a hunger suppressant, so it for sure has played a role in his dieting and unhealthy eating/diet habits, especially since he shows the instinct to drink to soothe hunger, all of that about how going hungry for 3 days used to feel manageable. Chil dieting info compiled here.

Chilchuck is at his most effortlessly cheerful when drunk or drinking. Compilation of every time he was drunk here.

And to be clear, a cheerful drunk is still a drunk. He literally will drink anytime he gets the opportunity to even if he’s aware overdrinking leads to health problems and death. Like canonically. He does NOT see how drinking should be a problem and does not seek to show restraint with it.

Dad of the dad

Marcille and Chilchuck having a talk on how losing a dad be like "You lost your dad young too…? I know how it is, it must have hit you hard…" "No not really tbh. Do you want lasagna or chicken for dinner?" <- either genuinely doesn’t feel much about his dad’s death or has 10 layers of repression, idk which is worse

I think Chil not making a big deal out of his dad’s death, not having worries in following into his footsteps that way in the least, is super interesting.

As a buddy @saccharineomens puts it: " I kinda imagine chilchuck and his dad didn't have a bad relationship, but in general chilchuck is so blase about drinking (he sees it as a delightful time, a wonderful thing! he wouldn't mind dying doing something he loved!) that he's not very upset about his dad's passing? like "yeah, he died, but i was already an adult, he was an adult, he made his choices, i make my choices, it's cool" " And I’ll nitpick that we don’t know how old he was when his dad died, I always assumed it was pretty early since Chil left home when he got married, and like I’ve gone into he doesn’t seem to be the keep in touch type. It’s on the table though, and he could have learned about it through letter if nothing else and that contributes to the "meh" reaction.

And that is very Chilchuck, the whole "we made our choices, it is how it is, he died doing something he loved", and you can totally believe that that’s the crux of it, but I do think the nonchalance hints at the family overall being distant and not only the siblings, that there’s dysfunctional shenanigans going on in there more than just… Healthy coping and having moved on.

I wonder when Chil first drank… And I wonder how he came to realize he liked alcohol a lot. His father probably gave him sips… Or he stole them

No because, with how disaffected he is about his father and siblings I could definitely see him having started to kind of numb himself/dissociate with the help of alcohol in that home environment that felt so… Either devoid of feelings or too messy to get attached. I can totally see his family being one that encourages dealing with feelings by bottling them up.

Because too… We saw him have a family/community feast of some sort presumably when he was a kid, in that chapter cover, so it’s not like there’s no warmth or sense of family at all, but then like… What went wrong? If as I theorize that girl with short black hair in that panel is his future wife, since she’s his childhood friend and all, what if his family/home life was always kind of cold and distant, even when gathered and cheery or despite those occasions? So then it’s like, at the family gatherings, she’s the most important person there to him, the one he actually connects to the most, the warmest presence he has…….. Someone he jokes around with that feels on the same speed as him, that doesn’t have the same connotations as everyone else present, a bit of a haven, someone different, a breath of fresh hair and a regained sense of childhood… Spitballing of course of course

I feel like they had a pretty big family and they were poor and such so there were always chores to be done etc, so their household might have operated like a mini busiess of sorts where everyone’s too busy, always has this and that to do and the mother asks them to go do tasks. I used to think it might be more of a neglect situation, where the kids are expected to provide for themselves and so cook their own meals and whatnot, both parents distant, but I don’t think so with the feast illustration. Chil at the beginning of canon used to see eating as a practical thing more than anything, you have to eat to live but don’t eat much or your weight will make your job more dangerous, might as well skip meals and have beer instead, etc etc. So the thought that he doesn’t know how to cook all that well despite this speculated background where he cooked for himself and keeps cooking minimalistic, since he does tell Senshi he taught him about cooking, is fair, but still… There could definitely be a situation where his older siblings were pushed into a parental role too, where they helped with the food and raising the younger siblings etc etc. As mentioned, the age gap between siblings may play into the dynamic as well. But on this front I have less ideas…

So yes my general take on Chil’s family is that everyone was too busy to emotionally connect as much as is normal, the parenting leaving things to be desired with alcoholism and emotional neglect.

Fathering

And I think that’s especially interesting considering he hasn’t been keeping in touch with his daughters either. It’s "they’re independent now" and that’s kinda it. His daughters haven’t sent him letters or visited him or tried to make him talk to their mom again. It does feel like with his own parents and siblings to me, where people are almost strangers, where relationships grow apart and everyone shrugs and goes ‘that’s how things are’. Is it that everyone including all his daughters gave up on trying to keep in touch, or is it that they all went "well divorced or not he’s absent, this is our normal tbh", and which is worse?

So yes, I think his relationship with his daughters is probably similar to his relationship with his parents, sort of hands off. Chil's dad was probably not a good dad but probably not quite a bad dad. A definitive He Was There, to quote another friend heh

Imo the thing with Chil is that he was pretty absent bc of work travels to dungeon dive, right. He’s working hard to provide for his family but in the process he’s not spending much time with them, slowly making a gap grow between him and them as they drift apart and change as people. He’s a career dad who never realized spending time with his family was more important and threw his pager into the ocean— But also here’s the thing!! You want to say being his family is more important, but money is arguably more important! They’re poor, they don’t have the privilege of free time as much. Sure he’s not there, but he is providing for them what they need to keep living and growing healthily. Similarly, you want to say Chil should stop doing harsh dieting for weight management, but, he has a point, maybe starving is still preferable than dying in traps. Of course the ideal would be to change jobs, but again, life is a struggle and that’s not always an option.

^ Truly the classic "if you don’t listen to me, your parent, a cryptid is gonna kidnap you!" international experience………

He is so so so the "What? My way of parenting is kinda bad? But my father raised me like that, and look how great I turned out!" <- emotionally dysfunctional…….. "Pshhh what do you mean having an alcoholic parent negatively affects you? My father was an alcoholic too and look at me"  🤡

All of it was behavior normalized to him. And listen, I’m saying this but not as like, shirking of his part in it. This isn’t a teen or young adult, he’s middle aged, he’s become the one giving and not receiving the generational trauma. He’s chosen to never think deeper on the topic.

And like, he himself is so indifferent to his father and what their relationship was like, of course he wouldn’t notice if a parenting choice wasn’t great for his daughters. He doesn’t have a relationship with his dad, he’s not (at least not consciously) traumatized by him, so from his perspective it’s mission success! He got raised decent enough 👍⭐️ Except he doesn’t realize that like, not particularly caring if he died is sign of a problem between them in itself… And this even as he remains somewhat of an important figure in his life, especially since that’s who he sees on the other side of the life river in the ghost chapter. It’s implicitly the biggest instance of loss through death Chilchuck has in his life I think.

But despite it all he obviously does love his family a lot, right. So I do believe that like, while he has imperfect standards when it comes to parenting he still tries to be better than his dad was, that even if it’s necessary that he has a lot of long work travels, he spends time with them. And there’s sort of this dissonance that he’s both "it doesn’t matter wether i’m here or not, they’ll live, they’re tough girls. Oh they didn’t like my scolding earlier? It’s just how kids are" dismissive and "I love them so much and I want them to have a good life. I want to do my best by them" devoted and so so caring. And like that’s why he works so damn hard, he does it for them, but also that’s why the girls grew up with an absentee father and aughhhh AUGHHHH the unsolvable dilemma of it all Chilchuck in Dunmeshi truly represents like, the harshness of reality & the world and how sometimes things will just suck no matter what, and then of course balancing that with Marcille in their shared arc where she tacks on "And despite that there is beauty everywhere even in the small and menial things, despite that your flawed relationships and dreams are still worth fighting for" ie giving reconciling with his wife a shot, etc.

All that said I think the very strict "you’re gonna grow up to have a stable job by god, young miss" attitude, those strong work ethics he highly values and focuses on and no doubt tried to instill in is own kids, is something he somewhat inherited from his own upbringing and parents.

In my masterpost bit on his parenting, I said I don’t think he’d do any kind of corporeal punishment, but. I do wonder about spanking aftee all. It can be so so easy to rationalize it… Sigh

Daughter pov

Again, my general interpretations for the daughters are written in my masterpost. I think Patti knows her father the least and is the one least worried about jobs and stability and least settled down as a result. Flertom is the more social one who I imagine tended to be the one worried about her parents’ couple and their emotions the most. And Meijack… Ohh Meijack.

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it and still you stand next to your mother just as quiet and just as stoic during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight out of mind

Thinking of those posts about how kids never forget and during the "draw your family!" things at school, some of the kids draw their working parents seperate from the rest of them...

Absent father and when he’s at home you get the crumbs of him that you get and you’re grateful for it and that’s that <333

She doesn’t know how much he loves them bc he hasn’t showed them in a long time </3

The horror of drunk Chil in my fics is often about what in this state he can’t do rather than what he could do, how someone who’s as proud of his skills and work ethics as he is has truly changed, not comprehending how he could become so sloppy or how he could allow himself to get like this, marred the values he preaches above all else. It’s in the way that he fumbles with doorknobs, that he could never lockpick a door if you were to lock it, and it both being your salvation and bringing you extreme distress at the thought of it all. His footsteps usually featherlight now sound heavy as stone, like a troll’s.

You know the thing that gets me so bad with alcoholism angst is when people describe the drunk person as a stranger. Often making a metaphor that they’re monsters, have some monster they shapeshift into uncontrollably once in a while, as a way to split the unreconciliable halves of the person sober and drunk in your vision of them……. It gets me soooo bad Little Puckpatti growing up on tales of trolls kidnapping disobedient kids and replacing them with doubles so no one even knows they’re gone… Coming face to face with a drunk Chilchuck that roams the halls of the house with heavy steps in the night, because she wanted to go drink a glass of water, too thirsty to sleep………..

And this is where I reveal that I wrote a fic about just that!! Trolls that thump and tiptoe through the night Mei @ Chil, You made me of stone and still every day you wear me down and chip away at me bit by bit

In the end notes I describe my takes and interpretations: With Mei I tried to give the sense of a kid who sacrifices some parts of childhood to feel closer to her parent, like not playing games to spend more time with him no matter how empty, or wanting to be worthy in his eyes. With Fler, since she was the one in canon to take in their mother and write Chil a letter explaining the situation, I feel like she’s always been the one most involved and aware of the problems in their family. The one most there to emotionally support or to understand what the vibes in a room meant. Puckpatti I think knows her father the least, since with time I think Chilchuck was more and more away from work and more and more cynical like the flashbacks of younger him dungeon diving. I think because of her not minding unstable odd jobs that she’s the most passive, that she’s the most go with the flow. I do also love when Mei is the one most aware of her parents’ flaws and most critical as the eldest, but not in this fic. Meijack grows up to never touch a drop of alcohol, what people joke is the one difference between her and her father. Flertom drinks, too much sometimes, but she considers drinking should be a social activity rather than a habit. Puckpatti only drinks on special occasions when she has the chance.

They already don’t have that much time together because of his work, I wonder how big of a percentage the amount of memories the daughters have of him are when he’s not himself truly… How they kinda reconcile it all. It’s their normal. 

And the thing that’s gutting too, is that Chil always looks so so much more open, relaxed, cheerful and happier when drunk than he usually is. He doesn't know how to get his defenses down without alcohol

"you're all that's good"

Because we do see how he truly used to not be so closed off and bitter. But distrust and fearing for betrayals from both coworkers and then his wife aka the person who’s supposed to be closest to him (he doesn’t even have close family besides his daughters. Does he even have close friends) turned him into what he is now. He was so cheerful!! Happy and trusting and optimistic.

He leaves and she left

God there’s the whole ‘wife leaving him’ trauma too is the thing… It had to have fucked him up so bad like no wonder he got paranoid and decided not to open up to ANYONE like. He never saw it coming is the scariest thing. He didn’t expect her to just up and leave. He didn’t see the warning signs. He won’t know if it’s coming this time either.

….. But then also, why he didn’t reach out to her (besides hurt) was because it was a petty silence treatment, like "oh she left without saying a word? Fine well I won’t reach out to her either" <- man who is so not fine and collected about it. It’s been FOUR YEARSSSSSSS I wonder if he always was like… "This week she’s gonna send a letter. … Ok fine, this month she’s gonna crack. … Within the year she’ll come crawling back." and it’s a bit why it was allowed to go on for this long unchecked like… Why he still considers her his wife even though functionally she’s more of an ex by that point after 4 years.

I can never stop thinking about him and his wife they’re fucking crazyyy. Him not reaching out to her started as a silent treatment from frustration. She never reached out to him either, she just up and left, didn’t even leave or send one last letter she’s just gone and has left this all behind, the house and everything in it. It’s been 4 years but he still considers her his wife and considers themselves only "estranged", "due to circumstances we haven’t seen each other in years". His face in the panel he said this is interesting too, trying to be casual but defensive and exasperated, already dreading the judgement and questions. He moved out of his house to rent a place in Kahka Brud instead. How much of him not reaching out was avoidance… Guilt, frustration, sadness, confusion, just procrastinating and dread and fear of a rejection more concrete, or something else… Maybe realizing he doesn’t miss her as much as he should, not enough to chase after her or try to get her back, just resigning himself to it… Is he a bad husband, is he a bad person? Should they reconcile?

Not seeing it coming… It’s half trust, that this person who’s so dear to you could never just up and leave and hurt you like that, half entitlement, thinking that she would never think of leaving, and third it’s blinding himself to the warning signs, not wanting to believe or acknowledge them. Because like, there WERE some, he said she "suddenly fell into a bad mood on the way back [from the outing]" and I don’t think he’s too dumb to be aware that something was off, he literally just dismissed it and then went surprised pikachu face when it turned out things were indeed off.

Part of it is definitely, how do you even react if your wife walks out on you without warning. If it happened to me I think that I wouldn’t reach out for a while either, wait for them to reach out to me first, give them space. As I put it in one of my marchil wips, "I respect your right to be rid of me too much to try and shackle you to me if you want to leave". Inaction is easier than admitting he’s scared to check and find out that the worst case scenario is true. It’s been years and he still hasn’t worked it out why she left. Do you think that’s on purpose. That he doesnt want to know for sure. It’s so so so scary to try and do anything about it

He said he didn’t reach out right away when she left because he was petty and wanted to give her the silence treatment back. Ok but is it that he blames her for their marriage falling apart or does he blame himself and he’s just misdirecting the conflicted feelings? Did he not reach out because a part of him was too scared to know why she left or if she would refuse to come back? Did he just think that she’d come back on her own, and things would get fixed while still staying unsaid and unconfronted like they always have, the first month, then the next and the next, until it was a year in and it sunk in that oh, maybe she wasn’t coming back?

He seems genuine here when he says that he was angry about it and gave her the silent treatment, but it is an habit of his to lie to make himself look worse instead of showing vulnerability, so who knows.

He is so so scared of being affected by relationships. Same thing with his compulsive habit to disguise his worry for anger. It’s why he doesn’t want people to have expectations of him, "I’m a coward I’m selfish", because then they can’t be disappointed, they can’t be surprised if he bites, they can’t leave when you lose what they’ve been staying for.

He has avoidant tendencies too. Every time there’s an interpersonal issue he just accepts it’s out of his control immediately. He’s passive when it comes to relationship problems, just like with coworkers, relationships are a ticking time bomb to him, and he just wants to be left out of it and come out unscathed. It comes back to his pessimism. He doesn’t think that like, things could be better. According to him life is tough and cruel, you accept your lot in life and make the best out of it and that’s it. If people are scummy you don’t whine about how unfair it is, you close yourself off and work to not be taken advantage of again and adapt. So then with his wife, when Marcille is like "Have you tried… Talking?" it’s such a crazy idea that it might work at all, that he could have the power to fix things… And that’s why it’s such a big deal when he goes "Alright I’ll try… I don’t know if it’ll go as well as in the stories, but I’ll try". That CRUMB of allowing himself to be hopeful is so huge

Honestly for the longest time I misread this bit, I thought she left in the night like how Marcille framed it, but no she left after he left for work. She left after he left again.

The way it’s told, it really sounds like Chilchuck just came home from work, stayed probably a couple of days in which they went to that outing together, then left for work again right away/soon after and it’s like. Was that outing the most special thing you guys did together. You came home from like a month of work, you had one outing where she ended up having a bad time, y’all didn’t talk about it further and then you left for another couple of weeks. Are you kidding me

Your married life is waiting for your husband to come home, spending mediocre time together, being shut down when you voice discontentment, and things being left unaddressed before he leaves again.

She left when he was gone for work, but did she leave the day of, or did she flip flop on it and took a while before working up the strength to leave? Was she waiting to see if he’d say anything before leaving and when he didn’t that was the last straw?

Chilchuck trying to prove a point that half-foots can make it out there, trying to rely more on himself because that’s the only person he can trust. His wife feeling like he's leaving her behind (because he does. over and over and over and over.) This guy just keeps throwing himself into work because he thinks it's what's best for everyone. Hey sir neglecting emotional needs can be kinda detrimental to everyone involved, I think you might wanna know that ^ quotes courtesy of @soappox

And to come back to alcoholism for a bit, alcoholism is alcoholism, and someone asked why I thought that a Chilchuck with depression would drink and cope through alcohol, since drinking seems to be something cheerful to him. It does puzzle me a bit but it’s worth going over, so… I don’t think him using drinking as a coping mechanism is far fetched at all. Cheerful drunks that are alcoholic still can absolutely use alcohol in ways like that. If something makes you happier, or even just more numb which translates to you feeling more free etc etc, then I definitely think it tracks that he’d keep drinking. Like personally I do think he’d drink a lot after his wife left him, and in rough patches like that. Depression -> not wanting to have to think, the days are blurring together and you either don’t want to be conscious or you want to feel something etc etc -> drinking for the alcohol. Alcoholics tend to be, well, dependent on alcohol. If something bad happens etc they’re usually more likely to go harder on it rather than stop. We can debate on when and why Chilchuck first started to drink but it’s straight up his favorite food now and it’s deeply ingrained in his life, in his favorite outings and activities and priorities and moods and meals. A CHEERFUL DRUNK IS STILL A DRUNK!!! They drink to get happy not drink because they are happy, though obviously the two can have overlap.

Chil represses sooo much. His solution to interpersonal conflict and feelings is just don’t think about it and dull your feelings & senses to everything ✨ I love him. I need to kill him with hammers Like the other day I was thinking about an AU where he might have ran away from his neglectful home or something, but then I remembered he deals with everything including his family by dulling his feelings and senses to things 🫠 He wouldn’t leave

I’d say he doesn’t look troubled by loss through death, moreso loss through mistakes. His nightmare is his daughters dying yes, but moreso them being killed, there’s an axe in the wall etc, it’s about having failed to protect them.

If he can’t fuck something up or if he’s already fucked it up there’s this pacifying sense that he can’t have the rug pulled from under him, because that’s what having connections is, having a wife isn’t an insurance it’s a rug waiting to be pulled. And his brand is sort of Flawed Mr Mistakes Man so he’s kinda been having to cope lol. I do think he throws himself into workaholism, because it’s sort of the only way to live he knows, making yourself capable and useful and spending his days working like that, less time to think, too tired to think. Senses dulled, senses that are usually too sharp, cutting with clarity that he prefers ignoring and avoiding. Work is something he doesn’t have to feel through, something that gives him pride and self-esteem, something through all the danger and life or death risk feels safer, emotionally. No one taught him how to deal with things another way, it’s always been suck it up and work.

Conclusion

Stop smoking we love you and we don’t want you to die

No drinking will not externalize your feelings no it won’t vent them out well please Chilchuck ple-ea-ease…….

</3 They should invent an alcoholism that doesn’t make you dysfunctional and hard to be around

^ Drunk, by The Living Tombstone

I’ve been thinking about enneagrams and Chil is 6w7 highkey. Becomes 3 when stressed, a little 8 but it’s more that he wants security so much that he becomes paranoid rather than having the core of an 8 y’know. I haven’t dug into it for quotes yet but this paper goes hard if you’re curious.

Dropping my relevant Spotify playlists here bc why not: Chilchuck & his wife, marchil angst

[kirkscarr]

ok so i just finished my book cover for First, Best Destiny - Part 1 by the amazing @ophelia-j !!

admittedly i was going to wait until i actually attached the text block to the cover before i posted this haha, but i was SO excited after making this cover that i decided to just post it and then update with the finished product later!!

this book is absolutely embedded in my soul, and words cannot even describe how gorgeously it’s written. it’s a book that made me realize - hey, the adventure doesn’t end as you grow old.

you can read it here. i promise you won’t regret it!!!

anyways!!! here’s all of my other bookbinding steps for anyone interested.

cam’s somewhat incomplete bookbinding guide

please note that i am an AMATEUR hobbyist. please do not actually use this as a tutorial.

oh also!! bookbinding terminology will have a * by it which will be explained at the end in order to make this flow better. i’ll also link the tutorials i used at the end of this for anyone interested.

1) Formatting the document! I downloaded the original text as a PDF, and then designed a cover page, grabbed some art from the internet (i know, frowned upon, but this is just a personal copy so it is what it is), and then designed a table of contents and chapter icons!!

*side note! i added which episodes each chapter follows to the table of contents (pictured below) as this book was written as an accompaniment to TOS and the movies.

2) Next, I printed out all NINE HUNDRED PAGES??? admittedly i could have done it in less if I’d used a bigger page size, but sending things out to be printed is expensive so we made do. after printing, i folded them into signatures*.

*there’s an additional note about the paper i used at the end

3) punching out holes in all the signatures! although not technically necessary, I honestly don’t think i would’ve been able to sew this behemoth without doing it.

4) sewing the pages into a real!! actual!! book!! this was the part i was most nervous about. i’ve NEVER attempted to sew anywhere near this large of a book before, so i tried out a new method of sewing in hopes of making it a bit more sturdy. we won’t know if it worked until this book endures some wear and tear, but i’m pretty optimistic!

5) next up is glueing the spine! this is where it really hit me that a lot of bookbinding is just…glueing shit together. later i also added cardstock to the spine in hopes of helping it adhere to the cover better, and a book headband* for decoration.

5) now we’re onto the book cover!! they only sell bookboard in minor bulk around here, so we’re not even gonna discuss how much bookboard i now own… anyways! i glued the faux leather onto the bookboard and then let that dry.

6) last up! off to the cricket! a huge thank you to my friend for letting me borrow her cricket AND supplies! anywho, this is where i designed my cover art. i then adhered the design to the cover. after this step, i realized i…definitely need some kind of sealant - so, if any more seasoned bookbinders have suggestions for this i am all ears!!

all in all, this was a super fun project, and a great way to kill some time while i recover from surgery! i absolutely plan to bind the sequel at some point, but that may be a…ways away. i’m a STEM major and school starts back up soon so…time will be in short supply lol!

To be continued...

Terminology

*signature: group of sheets folded in half, to be worked into the binding as a unit.

*book headband: just look up a picture if you’re curious because tumblr says i can't add any more pictures lol.

*about the paper!! i actually got it from a local specialty paper store, but if you want something similar i've heard amazon has some good bookbinding alternatives!

Tutorials

please PLEASE go check out Jess Less on youtube. she's phenomenal. here are her vids and what i used them for.

don't laugh!! i actually stole MOST of my techniques straight from this video.

i used this one to help me format the book correctly! although i still ended up with some goofs haha (see: any pages on the left side have the page number in the margin LMAO).

[veritas-scribblings]

love - @jartylusmicrofics - words: 768 [mature]

Regulus has ended up with two of them: two of the neediest, most touchy-feely people he knows. They’re very different, Barty and James. Granted they’re both extroverts and incredibly needy, but that’s really where all comparisons end.

Barty is rough around the edges, a proverbial menace to society. He has a somewhat questionable sense of morality, does not love or trust easily, though when he does he is determinedly and terrifyingly loyal. He comes with his own warning label: approach with caution, be careful as he may bite. He cares not what people think, does as he pleases, and any attempts to manage him really only serve to further egg him on.

James, in comparison, is relatively posh and polished. A people pleaser who cares more for others than he does for himself sometimes. He is fiercely moral, occasionally to a fault. An optimist who is prone to bouts of depression, who cares deeply what other people think. He is quick to love, loves freely and widely. He burns so bright that it is sometimes blinding.

Regulus loves them both, albeit in very, very different ways. He needs them both in very different ways. He has never questioned it, as he has never needed to. Initially, though, James had. While it had frustrated Regulus for a while, it is in retrospect understandable. James had been the newcomer who had arrived long after the love between Regulus and Barty had grown, planted roots and become established. He had struggled to find his place in Barty and Regulus’s dynamic, before he’d finally come to understand that he didn’t need to find a place in their dynamic. That they would create a new dynamic for him that included him.

Regulus runs his hands over the expanse of Barty’s bare back, feeling the knobs of his spine, the ropes of lean muscle that shift slightly as Barty moves in his sleep. His breath has stabilised. His racing heartbeat as slowed, though he still shivers a little as Barty shuffles and squirms atop him.

Barty is sticky and sweaty, the weight of him half-draped over Regulus, who desperately wants to get up so he can clean himself and pee. But the desire to let Barty sleep—because Barty so rarely sleeps—eventually wins out and Regulus just lays there.

James stands in the doorway watching. He must have arrived home from work a while ago as he’s shed his jacket and loosened his tie. Regulus exactly doesn’t know when as he hadn’t heard. But from the prominent bulge in James’s trousers, he thinks he may have been there for a while.

James just watches, silent and heavy-lidded. He will not interrupt, Regulus knows, because he has likely decided that they’re having what he calls ‘a moment’. So, instead he waits for an invitation, less because he’s being respectful and more because he’s simply avoiding provoking Barty.

The thing is that Barty can get territorial; he doesn’t share as well as James does, no matter how fond of James he is. It’s a regular source of conflict between them, and while Barty is always up for a healthy quarrel, James much prefers to avoid conflict where his loved ones are concerned. In the name of domestic bliss, or something.

It is wise of him, Regulus thinks. He himself much prefers James in one piece.

‘Should have gotten home early,’ James eventually says, quiet so as not to rouse Barty.

‘You could have joined.’ With a little bit of careful manoeuvring, Regulus manages to free an arm that Barty isn’t clinging to and reaches out to James.

Taking Regulus’s hand, James sits himself down on the edge of the bed and leans over to kiss Regulus gently. And he responds as Regulus had thought would, with a soft, amused smile and, ‘You were clearly having a moment.’

James stretches, rolls his neck, causing the bed to shift a little with the movement and Barty to grumble in his sleep. ‘I’ll sort myself out in the shower. Work’s been hectic anyway and I’m tired and I’ve got another work call tonight—’ Rubbing his eyes, he groans into his hand.

Barty shifts again, burrowing his face into Regulus’s neck. He clings to Regulus even tighter, almost possessively, throwing his leg over Regulus’s body. James takes this as his cue to leave. He’s learnt, from many mistakes during the early days, to not wake Barty when he’s sleeping.

‘Give me a moment, I’ll come and join you,’ Regulus says, a little louder than he should as James has left for the bathroom. Barty grumbles more insistently, only half-sleeping now.

[itsabouttimex2]

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can we see Alfred and shop girl bonding in the Other Half?💕

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Mostly fluffy, with a peppering of angst; Shop Girl has nightmares; this is an Alfred-centric chapter for obvious reasons

“I known Frank twenty years. I do that to him, can you imagine what I’ll do to you?”

The words are drowned by a gunshot, and a cruel laugh—

You’re sitting up and scrambling to turn the lamp on before you can stop yourself. You heave in tight, panicked breaths as your memory still crowds behind your eyes and rings through your ears. You look around the bedroom, and for once, you’re relieved to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty. Ever since you’ve returned to Gotham, he’s been hesitant around you. His worry hasn’t disappeared, but he’s been far more careful about voicing that concern. 

You draw a deep breath in through your nose, forcing yourself to hold it for ten seconds before slowly blowing the air out again. You can feel the panicked pounding of your heart as you begin to adjust to your reality, away from your nightmare. 

You look around the dim room, stomach churning in discomfort at the thought of laying back down and trying to fall back asleep with the memories of the kidnapping so close to the surface. You push the sheets aside, tucking your feet into your slippers and taking your bathrobe up from where you’d hung it over the footboard. You pull it open, yawning widely as you head for the door. 

It’s a short trip to the kitchen, but you’re surprised to find the lights on, and Alfred puttering around. 

“Alfred?” You speak up, voice thick from disuse. You smile a little as he turns to look at you. “Is everything okay?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

You hum softly, walking over to the stove. “I wanted some tea,” You fib. “Would you like some?” 

“I’d be happy to make it.” 

“I don’t mind. You do these things for us all the time. What are you doing up, anyway?” 

“I had trouble getting to sleep, myself.” 

“Really?” You frown, turning to look at him once you’ve put the fire on under the kettle. “Are you alright?” 

“Quite alright,” He reassures with a gentle smile. “I was trying to parse whether or not Master Wayne may want to do anything for Christmas.” 

“Mm,” You nod. “A good question, consider the catastrophe that was Thanksgiving.” 

You walk over to the shelf that Alfred keeps the tea chest. 

“Would you like a biscuit with your tea?” 

“Oh, yes please,” You smile. 

“Has he said anything to you about Christmas?” 

“Not a word. But communication’s been a little…Odd since I got back.” 

“‘Odd’ how?” 

“Mm, well,” You shrug, opening the lid of the tea chest. “I don’t know, I feel like we’ve been tip-toeing around one another.” 

“That is to be expected, even if it’s uncomfortable.” 

“As long as it doesn’t become our normal.” 

“I’m certain you’ll find a way to work through it.” 

You smile as Alfred joins you at the counter with two clean mugs. 

“Thank you. Chamomile?” 

“How you know me,” Alfred chuckles. 

“Two tea bags?” 

“Yes, please.” 

You set the tea bags down in one mug before taking up a packet of sleepy time for yourself. 

“...Alfred?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask…” You trail off, weighing your words as you put the tea chest away again. “When I asked Bruce about whether or not we were doing anything for Thanksgiving, you know—before the fiasco…He seemed to sort of…Glaze over.” 

Alfred purses his lips, considering. 

“The holidays have always been somewhat difficult for Mr. Wayne, but we haven't celebrated Thanksgiving since he was a very small boy.” 

“Oh…” You slouches back against the counter, scrubbing your hand across your forehead. “I wish I had known that. I’m sure this year hasn't sent him scurrying back to the table for turkey.”

“You couldn’t have known unless one of us told you,” Alfred soothes. “And if you consider it another way: the holiday can only get better going forward.” 

“...That’s certainly an optimistic way of looking at it. Though I may just hop on the bandwagon and never celebrate it again.” 

“It would certainly cut down on the dishes.” 

You snort a soft laugh, jokingly whacking his shoulder in admonishment before turning back to the stove, hearing the kettle scream. You fill each mug, glancing back as Alfred sits at the kitchen table with a plate of biscuits. You sit down across from him, passing him his tea before taking up a biscuit.

“...I take it he’s not back yet,” You hedge. 

“No…But it’s early.” 

Early. Your eyes stray to the clock. It’s nearly half past three. You shake your head a little, peering down into your tea and levering the bag in and out as you think. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No,” You insist, “I just, um…Every once in a while I have these flashes to when I met Bruce. It was a little over a year ago now.” 

“I remember.”

“How are the gloves holding up, by the way?” 

“They’re in excellent condition.” 

“I better call my old manager. She’ll be so happy to hear it.”

The two of you share a chuckle before Alfred reaches out, resting his hand atop yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Drink your tea before it goes cold,” You nod toward it. “I know that drives you nuts.” 

“There is nothing worse than a cold cup of tea.” 

“So you keep telling me. What are your opinions on iced tea?” 

“That is an entirely different matter. It’s alright if the tea is cold, so long as it did not start out hot.” 

“Something tells me you’ve thought a lot about this. I’m starting to think this is what really keeps you up at night.”

“More than you could possibly imagine.” 

Next Part

[77dekiru]

MHA 423: Breakdown + Speculation

(MANGA SPOILERS.)

I would like to start this off by saying that there was a lot set up with the OFA realm that never got used (if this is the true conclusion.)

Nothing further came from Katsuki entering the OFA realm. (I think that it’s obvious that Katsuki came back being able to tap into OFA, but that was never actually confirmed.)

Nothing came from Toshinori and his vestige syncing...

Nothing came from Star’s vestige reappearing. (Star originally gave up her chance to kill Tomura/AFO, because she saw Tenko still inside the vestige realm… this is all very interesting timing.)

“Master… I found a sad child. He’s right there.”

(This literally happened only 10 chapters ago. It’s not like these were older events that were suddenly written out as being relevant.)

All of this was done for a purpose, all foreshadowing for something more. It would be horrifically bad writing if quite literally nothing came from it.

How Tenko Will Survive:

“I have no doubt All For One was absorbed and stopped existing.”

Izuku questioned how AFO was able to come back, even stressing how he was sure that AFO had been fully absorbed (this literally happened 2 chapters ago…) and ceased to exist.

All For One isn’t the only character this has happened to either!!

Yoichi (+ the other vestiges) came back as well. AFO was certain that Yoichi’s vestige had been shattered and destroyed.

“How dare you destroy my One For All… My Yoichi…”

“When I heard the sound of Yoichi being shattered to pieces… my whole world turned grey.”

Even Star’s vestige reappearing is an example of this happening… the fact that we have gotten no explanation for any of this is so weird.

There is definitely something more going on here that hasn’t been revealed yet.

((I personally think that this is gearing up for All For One (quirk) reaching the point of singularity… OFA has already reached that point, but AFO has not. I feel like it’s somewhat inevitable, imo.))

I can see Tomura’s “soul” (his sense of self, IMO) being saved by whatever had originally brought back the other vestiges, and his body being saved by the Overhaul quirk he possesses.

Tomura believes that his only purpose (the reason that he was even born) is to destroy. He literally mourns the fact that he wasn’t able to destroy Izuku’s arms, not because it was something that he enjoyed, but because destruction is the only thing that Tomura believes he’s capable of…

Overhaul gives Tomura the ability to CREATE and not just destroy. Tomura didn’t even have a chance to process the idea that he could possibly do that. It didn’t even seem to register for him at all.

I think that Tomura referring to himself (“Shigaraki Tomura”) in quotations is gearing up for a “death of Shigaraki Tomura, rebirth of Shimura Tenko” type deal.

I also want to add that we never actually saw Izuku use One For All on Tomura.

We didn’t see Tomura’s body cease to exist, we saw his vestige be destroyed.

Izuku and Tomura do not actually need to be near each other in person to interact within the vestige realm!! (I truly wouldn’t be surprised if some Kurogiri portal fuckery is going on here as well.)

Speculation:

Alright. I’m trying not to be delusional about this, but there was definitely something off about this chapter. Not in a poorly written way, but in a “there is some fuckery going on here” type way.

This seemed like a purposefully manufactured “end” to One For All and All For One… A performance more than anything. (This could be the result of a rushed ending, but I’m going to be optimistic about all of this.) Izuku referring to All Might as “the Eighth” was so odd.

The scene of AFO speaking to Yoichi’s “embers” was also very strange to me. The entire conversation between Yoichi and AFO felt off, as if Yoichi was just a distraction. Also the fact that all of the vestiges were able to hold their full forms, except for Yoichi is such a red flag… (Even AFO’s vestige was able to revert back to its pre-injured self.) Especially since Izuku had held onto OFA the most out of all of the past users quirks… OFA is special to Izuku, not for its power but because it had been a gift from All Might.

Izuku is not incapable of being selfish.

I can definitely see him trying to hold onto something from One For All…

The reason that AFO’s “soul” was finally shattered is that the idea that Yoichi was truly gone left him with nothing else… AFO no longer cared about ruling over others, finding it pointless without him.

If there is even the smallest bit of OFA left, I can very much see AFO coming back again (😭) I genuinely think that he wouldn’t give up if there was even an ember of Yoichi left…

All For One definitely will not be getting any sort of redemption by the end of the series, but I do think that he will possibly get some sort of closure for Yoichi's death... which will be what finally stops the cycle.

[End of meta, beginning of rant:]

If there is nothing more after this, that was probably the worst conclusion to a plot line that we have ever had in the entire series.

I am of the firm belief that what happened this chapter would've been fine (minus, Tomura's possible conclusion) if it had been spaced out between even 2-3 chapters instead of a single one. It felt rushed and this "climax" fell flat.

I don’t think that Tenko is dead (or at least will stay dead) but the idea that that was the conclusion of the OFA/AFO plotline is making me feel insane.

There is so much important shit that still needs to be resolved, and the idea that it's gonna happen AFTER the climax in some post-war bullshit is also making me feel just a little bit crazy. ngl.

It's all just gonna feel so anticlimactic. Unless something changes drastically in the next chapter, I just know the ending will be disappointing on some level if things stay as they currently are…

(Even if this is not the conclusion of the OFA/AFO plotline, this chapter could do so much possible damage if things are not handled properly, I really don’t know if whatever is being planned next could even fully salvage it…)

Izuku’s actions:

I’ll be honest, I’m not particularly surprised with how Izuku acted this chapter. His view of Tomura has always been flawed, and that had been shown time and time again throughout this battle…

(I’m working on a longer post about this. It’s been something that I have kept to myself for a while now, and I think now is a good time to post my thoughts on it.)

Izuku never wanted to save Shigaraki Tomura, he wanted to save Shimura Tenko.

I think that this chapter perfectly displayed that particular flaw to readers… I really don’t think that this is the result of poor writing, but was a flaw purposefully given to Izuku.

(A flaw that he has yet to overcome… I do hope that this will be something that is resolved by the end of the series.)

The Fandom Response:

I’m seeing a lot of people say things like “Tenko can rest now.” or “Well, I guess Tenko’s heart was saved in the end.” when that is simply not true.

Tomura did not have any sort of revelation about AFO’s grooming. He still believed that he was born to destroy, that did not change in the slightest.

Tomura did not get any closure for the death of his family. He practically learns that he and his family were doomed from the start, and then just accepted it.

Tomura did not die “happy” or even at peace.

The idea that the only way for Tomura to be stopped was for him to be killed is just simply not true. He literally gave up a few chapters prior. It’s not like he was “too far gone” or on a rampage and needed to be put down.

…I have a lot more thoughts on this chapter that I won’t be sharing (yet) but I just can’t accept that it ends there. I cannot accept the idea that the main plotline of the series was so horrifically fumbled after all this time.

If Tomura truly died like that, it quite literally threw out 5+ years of development.

Tomura was humanized over and over again. For nothing?

It all just seems very… cruel.

[natsuslover]

ur account is so cutee !!

do you have any erasermic headcanons? (*^^*)♡

aww tysm! 🫶

and ofc i have erasermic headcanons they’re so chaotic i love them so much. i didn’t know if u wanted platonic or romantic so i just wrote platonic bc i have more hcs for that 😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic erasermic headcanons ੈ✩‧₊˚

notes— i’m rewatching mha rn so i’m actually really excited to write all these mha headcanons

ft. shota aizawa, present mic (idk his real name)

warnings: very light spoiler in one of them i think

present mic gossips about the students ALL. THE. TIME. (mostly complaining or like random tidbits of tea but it’s harmless) to aizawa but he doesn’t really pay attention lmao.

except from time to time when mic says something that’s so clearly not the truth and aizawa just has to correct him.

when mic asks aizawa how he knows so much about the students aizawa’s like “they just tell me” which gets mic somewhat ticked off because the students never go to him for anything lol.

when aizawa’s teaching class present mic just randomly pops in from time to time to “shake things up”

he blatantly interrupts the lecture and goes up to the podium and gets all sentimental while dramatically retelling the students stories of his and aizawa’s high school days.

meanwhile aizawa just whips out his sleeping bag and uses the time to take a much needed nap.

really i think present mic does that on purpose because he KNOWS aizawa doesn’t sleep enough so it’s his own way of caring.

both of them just sit and reminisce about their high school days every once in a while because they want to remember the good things about shirakumo :(

aizawa’s not the most sentimental person (at least he doesn’t show that side very much) so present mic is one of the only people who gets to see aizawa when he’s really emotional.

they’re literally the grumpy x sunshine, golden retriever x black cat, opposites attract trope.

aizawa always pretends to be annoyed or exhausted by mic’s presence but everyone knows that’s not true.

despite acting like he doesn’t care he’s actually really appreciative of present mics friendship.

aizawa often goes through tough times with all his students (especially izuku, shoto, and katsuki) getting dragged into situations because he cares and worries about them, and present mic is there cheer him up and reassure him that everything will be fine.

present mic has a really optimistic outlook on life which usually uplifts aizawa’s pessimistic attitude.

whenever it comes to lesson plans both of them help each other out to the best of their abilities because neither of them enjoy planning stuff out.

honestly, i feel like even though they were friends in high school, their bond truly got stronger when they started teaching and because of their students.

random but one time in high school present mic dyed aizawa’s hair blond while he was sleeping at a slumber party.

the next morning aizawa woke up to mic’s relentless giggling, looked in the mirror, and was too tired to even care his hair was yellow lmao. he just looked at mic like “seriously dude?” and continued to wash his face.

but when present mic looked in the mirror he noticed that aizawa lowkey looked better than him in his signature hair color and immediately ran to the store to find black hair dye to dye it back.

after all, there’s no way he’d live it down if aizawa started pulling more girls than him…

unbeknownst to everyone else, aizawa and mic have super smash bros competitions every weekend (mic’s idea obviously)

aizawa wins

every time lmao

mic gets super pissed off about it because aizawa’s not even trying like 95% of the time and he’s STILL unbeatable.

present mic hates olives and aizawa doesn’t mind them, so whenever they get food with olives in it, mic spends time picking out EVERY olive and puts them in aizawa’s food.

they both like spicy food but while present mic is huffing and puffing and hakahajcahak-ing through his food, aizawa doesn’t even have a single drop of sweat on his face.

whenever they want to skip a teacher meeting, they use each other as excuses.

like “oh shit mic just uh… fell off a mountain i have to go help him brb” or “damn looks like eraser broke his foot gotta go check!”

they’re both dedicated teachers but sometimes those meetings can get sooo tedious.

aizawa often has to help present much grocery shop even at his grown age because man does NOT know how to shop like an adult lmao.

aizawa’s telling mic how he needs more onions because he ran out but in a split second the entire cart is filled with an entire year’s worth of snacks and junk food.

one glare from aizawa and poor present mic is putting back every single food item that he got lol.

mic is without a doubt the yapper of the duo.

like bro doesn’t know when to shut up and aizawa just goes along with it because that means he doesn’t have to talk as much.

actually aizawa’s like zoned out the whole time but present mic doesn’t really care he just likes that he can talk without interruption.

both of them are such opposites it just works out somehow and i really love that for them.

ok so this is really rushed and def not my best work but my brain is so fried rn i can’t think of anything so i hope this works 😭 i’ll definitely do more erasermic hcs later on when i can actually think tho.

[wildmelon]

my wayhaven detectives 🔍🖤

🥺👉🏼👈🏼 i’ve been wanting to post them for a while, but i always put it off (mostly since i tweak them constantly, i’ve redone all of these portraits at least once since i first drafted this). but it’s a foggy november morning here and it put me in the mood. here are my actual children, i’m putting info about them under the cut for anyone like me who loves reading about other ppl’s mcs 😊

Elliott Moran [Felix] 

Kind and thoughtful, Elliott has the disposition of an elementary school history teacher. Slightly spacey and dreamy, he’s better at connecting with people than he is holding information. On the bright side, his intuition tends to steer him right when it comes to technology, and he has a knack for fixing things. His perpetual cheerfulness quickly charmed Natalie and attracted Felix.

Elliott’s sensitivity can leave him easily hurt and drained. His care for the people around him supercedes hurt feelings, though, and he’s incapable of holding a grudge. He’s happier than he ever thought he’d be since he started dating Felix.

Waverly Green [Adam] 

Waverly spent much of her youth rebelling in bids for attention from her absentee mother. Whatever her initial motivations, she maintains an innate propensity for chaos as an adult. Impulsive, sarcastic, and stubborn, Waverly isn’t always the easiest teammate, though she can turn on the charm when she wants to. (Nine times out of ten. Adam seems immune so far.) She’s always been drawn towards the catharsis of combat. Exercising is one of the only times her mind goes truly blank. She’s also fairly well versed in technology and naturally handy. Her open pessimism and incisive quips sparked a somewhat unlikely friendship with Mason.

Past her bravado lies a deeply insecure and wounded girl who feels like a chronic failure, never good enough for the people around her. (This whole situation with Adam may be touching a nerve.)

Araminta (Minty) Udo [Nat]

Naturally charming and charismatic, Araminta’s easygoing nature and popularity made her a good choice to be detective. The people of Wayhaven trust her wholeheartedly-- or at least they did before all these supernatural occurrences began cropping up. Still, her optimism and quiet self-assuredness puts the people around her at ease. She maintains a (seemingly) great relationship with her mother, has fallen head-over-heels for Natalie, and gets along particularly well with Farah.

Minty seems so well-adjusted it can be hard for people to remember she needs to be taken care of as well. Her forgiveness and patience seem inexhaustible but take a toll that sometimes makes her want to scream. Luckily, she now has Nat to worry about her feelings. 

Alice Atwell [Mason] 

Incredibly intelligent and deeply logical, Alice is often the voice of reason. She prides herself on her ability to keep calm in a crisis, and her levelheadedness serves her well. Being a detective seemed like the best way to put her sharp mind to good use in Wayhaven, and her sincerity has made her a trusted figure in the community. Her knowledgeability, easygoing nature, and interest in history contributed to a fast friendship with Nat. Mason, meanwhile, is attracted to her goodheartedness against his will (and knowledge).

Underneath Alice’s patient exterior lies a deep need to prove herself and receive love. She seems to have a good relationship with her mother, but Rebecca’s long absences have left her with deep-rooted fear that she’s unlovable that she tries hard to keep buried. (Good thing she’s falling for Mason, he’ll provide her with plenty of reassurance. /s. At least she’s an optimist.)

[angelicpoison12]

broken bottles = broken hearts ღ

Husk makes you feel better when you’re heartbroken over coming into Hell. So, he lets you pet your troubles away.

MFA, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

you were good… for the most part. you didn’t see yourself as an awful person. did Heaven truly see you as so bad and malicious that you were now in Hell? well, yes.

— 𖢻 —

you sat at the bar, sad and glum. the hotel wasn’t too bad.. Charlie was a little overbearing sometimes with how positive and optimistic she was, but it was better than someone who was down all the time, right?

well, Husk was certainly someone who was always in a ‘fuck no’ mood.

you sat at the bar, looking around, but Husk was nowhere in sight. you sighed and put your head down, hoping that the day would go by faster. the bar was cool and had a smooth surface, giving you a sense of comfort in this shithole you’d gotten yourself into.

“what can I get ya?”

you squeaked when you heard the deep, smooth voice, nearly falling out of the barstool. Husk’s eyes widened at your fright, and he was quick to say,

“easy kid, easy.. what’s the matter with ya, huh? bad day? i never see ya sitting up here,”

you shrugged and sighed, quietly ordering a glass of water. when you felt the cool glass pushed towards you, you were quick to gulp it down, feeling relief spread through your body. the drink cooled you off and made you feel somewhat better than before.  “so.. you gonna sit there all sad and mopey like a wet dog, or are ya gonna tell me whats goin’ on?”  Husk asked, pouring you more water. a soft, quiet breath left your lips, and you saw his left ear twitch.  

“can i pet you?”  you blurted out, blushing. Husk’s eyes widened, and a soft, confused mrrp sound left him.  “’scuse me?”  he asked, his voice a little higher than usual due to the soft flutter he was getting in his chest. you swallowed and said,  “i’m sorry-it was a stupid thing that came across my mind, i shouldn’t have-”  all Husk did was raise a hand, silencing you. he sighed and shook his head before asking,  “if i let ya pet me... will it stop your mopin’?”  you were quick to nod eagerly. he grumbled a little, his ears going flat as he came closer to you, the bar digging into his fur a little. 

Husk looked at you, one of his large red brows perked up.  “well, what’re you waitin’ for, hm? Go ahead.”  you were timid as you leaned forward, your fingers raised. you brushed them through Husk’s ears. you started from the base of the white fluff on them, then the red, moving up to the innards and where the tips were pointy with hair. 

he hummed quietly, eyes closing as you petted him. soft purrs echoed through the bar, his gruff exterior melting thanks to your gentle touch. you moved your hand down, starting to scratch his fluffy cheeks, feeling his whiskers tickle your fingertips.  “this is so fuckin’ stupid..”  Husk muttered. your eyes widened a little, and you stopped petting him abruptly, thinking he was upset. Husk’s eyes opened and he was quick to say,  “aw, kid. don’t stop, please... i was just talkin’ to myself,”  Husk said. you resumed petting him, his purrs louder now somehow, which made you let out a quiet giggle. 

you couldn’t help but notice the way his tail was swishing back and forth, wrapping around his leg and curling into a heart. you cooed at the sight, finding it adorable as well as interesting.  “don’t get used to this, kid. I ain’t nobody’s pet,”  Husk chuckled, a sense of light-hearted humor behind his tone. you knew Husk was a grump, and he was never one to usually have fun.t yet somehow you’d clawed your way into this kitty’s heart.  

you pulled your hands away from him, finishing your second helping of water.  “thank you for the drink, Husk. I really needed it,”  you said. Husk smiled and nodded at you, rubbing his semi-wet nose against your cheek, still purring.  “not a problem, kid. come back anytime you’d like, alright? this old man gets lonely sometimes,”  Husk said. you sense the sadness in his voice mingling with his unconditional love for you. 

“don’t worry, I'll be back,”  you said confidently, patting his head one last time before you left upstairs to your room. 

sometimes, all you need is a cat to let it all out to. and thank god for Husk being that cat. 

— 𖢻 —