#I’ve met some people that have no idea about normal things around the us because their one area they lived in did it differently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aceyalonso · 22 days ago

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F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

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anxiousnerdwritings · 11 months ago

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I can totally imagine that, after getting absolutely no where, Jokerized!twin darling just has an Azula-level breakdown. Especially if the Batfam or God forbid Damian somehow manages to subdue the unpredictable mess. There's no way that Twin!Reader doesn't resent Damian to a degree, especially after everything he put them through... so seeing his twin brother not only be accepted but also find a family that was willing to have him? While Twin!Darling was just used and abused in some shape or form? Absolutely breaking down!

Twin!Reader wholeheartedly holds an immense amount of resentment towards both Damian and Talia. I really like the idea that Twin!Reader was more akin to being that of a normal child born outside of a family full of assassins than to acting like one who was. Like, Twin!Reader was on par with Damian when it came to the proficiency of their training but the mentality just wasn’t there for them. They couldn’t just aimlessly kill, they couldn’t just walk away with someone’s blood on them and not feel something. Not only that, they just weren’t emotionless to any degree like how their mother and brother so easily were. They laughed, they cried, they felt fear, they felt hurt. Like, I’ve had this scenario in my head for a bit of there being a thunderstorm or a blizzard and Twin!Reader seeking out Damian because they’re scared, they sneak into his room and they just want comfort. They just want to be together with their twin brother in their moment of need. And Damian begrudgingly allows it cause they won’t go away no matter what he says but he still makes comments about how weak they are for something as ridiculous as a storm to have them acting like this and that the Reader better be out before mother finds out. I especially like this kind of scenario being what Twin!Reader holds onto when they need something no the better side to look back on. It didn’t happen often, nor did it come without berating, but there were a few moments that Twin!Reader had with Damian that they’ve held onto, that they’ve cherished.

I also really like the idea of Talia having tried to kill Twin!Reader behind Ra’s back, leaving them for dead only for them to survive and that’s where we go from there. I think it really adds to the whole familial betrayal thing and gives more to the Reader eventually going off the rails, especially as they’re in search of somewhere to belong, for someone who willingly and genuinely wants them for them. It makes it even more of a surprise and gut punch respectively for Damian, Talia, and Ra’s when the Reader pops back up. Especially, after being Jokerized.

All their life, Twin!Reader as been used and abused in some way, shape, or form. And even after being Jokerized that’s all they’re met with. Even if it isn’t to the same extent it was with Talia and Damian, these new people the Reader is trying to find belonging in all have ulterior motives. They want to use the Reader against Batman (or one of the other main people the Reader’s been associated with), they want something to have and hold over Batman’s (or whoever else’s) head. That’s all it is, at least in the beginning. Eventually these people do come to have some amount of care for the Reader but by then it’s too late and the Reader is in the wind and on to the next one.

I do really love the idea of Damian and Twin!Reader sharing their love for animals. I especially love the thought of the Reader’s first pet/companion being a hyena Joker and Harley (probably just Harley) gifted them after their initiation into the Clown Family. That hyena would mean the absolute world to the Reader, as far as the Reader was concerned it was their first friend and the first thing that ever stayed around for them. Wherever the Reader went, so did it. I love the thought of the hyena being protective of the Reader, sticking close to them for both security and comfort. The hyena very quickly becomes the only thing that Twin!Reader truly cares about anymore. Not to mention, there’s no doubt that after everything Twin!Reader’s been through before and after being Jokerized they have constant nightmares, even some night terrors, and the only one there for them is their loyal hyena. It’s there to curl around them protectively, to give them a warmth they’re not used to and a sense of being looked over that they’ve never felt before. I can even see the hyena bringing the Reader snacks to remind them to eat and take care of themself.

I can really see the Jokerized!Twin!Reader being thrown into an all out breakdown if their hyena died, especially if it died protecting them (whether from the batfamily or some rogue rando). That was their only friend, the only thing that truly ever cared about them and now they had nothing anymore. They had no one. They were lost all over again. If any of the batfamily members had anything to do with the Reader’s precious hyena’s death there would never be any forgiveness. If someone else were the reason for the hyena’s death than the Reader wouldn’t think twice about killing them and getting revenge for their beloved companion. Either way, no matter who caused the Reader’s hyena’s death I can see the batfamily all trying to subdue them from enacting any revenge on whoever. No matter how feral and berserk the Reader is in the moment, no matter how hard they fight, how hard they hit, I see Bruce, Jason and Damian especially not letting go of them. They hold the Reader the entire time, unrelenting in their grasp no matter how hurt they get in the process. If the Reader is as unrelenting as they are then they’ll have to knock them out. From there the family will take Jokerized!Twin!Reader home, where they’ll be safer, where the family can watch over and be there for them.

After their breakdown, there is no way in hell, Damian and Bruce especially will be able to go on with the Reader not being with them. Seeing how absolutely destroyed they’ve become, how much of a broken husk they’ve been turned into after everything they’ve been through, Damian and Bruce can’t allow anything more to happen to their sibling/child. No matter what it takes, how long it takes, Damian and Bruce aren’t giving up on Jokerized!Twin!Reader. They will save them, they will put them back together again. They will be the family that the Reader should have had all along.

God forbid if Ra’s was there to see his precious grandchild breakdown like that in front of him. Damian and Bruce be damned, he’s taking them home with him and Talia will be thoroughly dealt with for her part in all of this, in destroying his pride and joy.

#anxious answers #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batfamily #yandere ra’s al ghul #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

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farfromstrange · 2 months ago

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Fictober Day 3: Getting a Pet

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Finding a pet/Getting a pet (it was originally finding a pet, but I changed things up a bit)

Summary: You think it's time for you and Matt to get a cat.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Cats. Mentions of future children.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is solely based on me wanting a cat. I did have a different version of this already written, decided I didn't like it, and whipped this up in, like, two hours today. I hope you're not mad at me, but the first draft really wasn't it, so I decided to interpret the prompt differently/change it.

Read Me On AO3!

It’s been three years since Matt Murdock stumbled into your life, broken and bruised. A normal person would have run if they had seen The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knock at their window, but not you. You invited him in and fixed him to the best of your abilities.

Three years ago, you met the man you fell head over heels in love with. The man who broke your heart then put it back together. The man who once believed he would never love again, that he didn’t deserve it, finally allowed himself to find some peace in your arms. Comfort. Love.

You moved in together two years ago, and you haven’t looked back since. In fact, you only seem to be moving forward.

Since he’s been with you, he has been using you as an excuse to Foggy and Karen for why he doesn’t need a dog. He thought he would never have to worry about getting a pet ever again. Until a week ago.

You were sitting on the couch, head resting on his chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart, when you suddenly blurted out, “I think we should get a cat.”

Suddenly, Matt didn’t have to worry about telling people why he didn’t need a dog anymore, but he had to face you, the love of his life, and talk to you about getting a cat.

Up to that point, you hadn’t often seen him too stunned to speak, and the times you had, he was facing a greater evil—a greater evil than a cat.

“What?” you remember him asking.

You nodded against his chest. “Dead serious,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. You had that determined look on your face, the one that always made Matt’s defenses crumble like wet paper. He could feel it as he brushed his fingers over your soft skin, trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“I’ve always wanted one,” you continued your reasoning, “and I think we’re ready. You know… for a fur baby.”

Because the idea of a baby was and still is very far in the future.

Matt could feel the excitement radiating off of you that night, and though he had never imagined himself as a cat person, there was no denying he was wrapped around your finger. “You really want a cat?” he asked.

“I do,” you answered, with an almost childlike excitement.

“I just… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s a cat,” he emphasized.

“Your point being?”

“They’re… stealthy. And needy, sometimes.” That was the only argument he could come up with.

You snorted at that. “So, they’re you,” you said, “just… smaller.”

Matt opened his mouth, closing it just as fast. You got him, fair and square. “Alright, I can respect that,” he said.

It was so serious to you that you sat up straighter to look at him. “Of course you would. Think about it. They’re independent, low-maintenance, and they purr. Plus, Foggy and Karen will forever shut up about you getting a guide dog ‘cause we’ll already have a cat,” you said.

He couldn’t possibly argue with that logic. But deep down, he knew. He knew the moment you brought a cat home, he’d be doomed. But he couldn’t say no to you.

“Okay, fine,” he caved, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Let’s get a cat.”

Fast forward a week, and you have dragged him to one of New York’s animal shelters to find a cat. Fall has fully settled over the city, the air crisp with a slight chill, and the streets lined with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Matt’s hand is intertwined with yours as you step inside, and though he tries his best to act casual, you can feel the subtle tension in him. The smell of hay and litter toy with his heightened senses. It’s a lot all at once, but he promised that for you, he would do anything.

This is a decision you will have to make together. So, he forces a smile when you look at him with that worried crease between your brows, and he tells you it’s okay. He’s got this. You choose to believe him.

“This is exciting,” you murmur as a volunteer leads you through to the room where the cats are held. “We’re getting a cat!” You want to jump up and down and screech like a banshee, that’s how happy you are he said yes, even though you know he did it more for you than for himself, but if you start acting crazy now, they might never let you leave.

“I like to say, ‘let the cat choose you’,” the volunteer says once you have reached your destination. “So, please, take your time. Also,” she turns around again, toward Matt, “if one of them tries to nibble on your cane, just tell them no.”

You swallow a giggle that threatens to escape. “Thanks,” you smile at her as she leaves, leaving you alone in a room full of… well, cats.

You have never been closer to heaven.

“I don’t want anyone nibbling on my cane,” Matt mutters beside you.

You shake your head, laughing. “Relax. They’re just cats.”

Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors lounge around the room, some curled up in cozy beds, others batting lazily at toys hanging from strings. You take note of the numerous cat trees, some attached to the wall. It looks like a feline paradise.

A few cats are eyeing you already, but most of them seem rather unimpressed. They must get a lot of potential new parents every day.

Matt can feel your pulse quicken as you take a few steps forward, letting go of his hand to crouch down near one of the more adventurous kittens—a fluffy gray one with bright eyes.

“Hi,” you almost squeak, reaching out carefully to offer your hand. The kitten sniffs at your fingers before deciding to nuzzle into them. “Oh, you’re so cute. What’s your name?” You read the tag around his neck. “Bruno. Nice to meet you.” You’re not sure why you are telling him your name, but it seems like the right thing to do.

You feel so warm inside, like you are taking the one step you have been wanting to take from the start. Getting a pet with the man of your dreams. Though you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more than Matt is.

He’s hesitant as he steps closer, folding his cane now that he is out of anyone’s eyesight, and he tilts his head slightly to listen to the kitten’s movements—the soft rustle of his fur, the tiny pitter-patter of paws on the floor, and the barely audible purring that you seem to be coaxing from him.

He can’t deny that he is a little jealous. You’re so enamored with him. If he could purr, he would.

“This was a great idea,” you say, turning to grin at Matt, who still hasn’t quite moved past the threshold of the room. You can tell he’s trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but his body language betrays him.

It’s funny to see your usually so stoic boyfriend nervous and almost scared of a few tiny kittens. The smell must be overwhelming, you know, but it can’t be the only thing holding him back.

“Matt,” you hold out a hand for him to take, “come on, don’t be shy. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Maybe not bite,” he says.

“You fight crime on a nightly basis, and you’re scared of cats?”

He frowns. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure,” you say. With a smile, you take his hand in yours again, guiding him toward a small black kitten that’s been quietly observing from a perch by the window. You’re not sure why, but the little guy reminds you of him. Calm, reserved, but always alert.

The kitten’s sleek fur gleams in the light, and when you bring Matt closer, he lets out a tiny, curious meow. The volunteer said to let the cats choose you, but you have never seen a more beautiful specimen—except for the human-cat right next to you.

“Meet potential fur baby number two,” you murmur.

You guide his hand toward the kitten.

Matt crouches down beside you, but he’s hesitant. For a second, you think he’s going to pull back, but then the kitten nuzzles right into his hand, and he stops dead in his tracks.

A soft smile spreads across Matt’s face—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your heart flutter.

“He likes you…”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know… seems like this one might be too calm for me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too calm? Suddenly, you want a high-maintenance cat? A second ago, you wouldn’t even touch him.”

“Just saying… might be nice to have a challenge.”

“I think we, but especially you, have enough challenges in your life,” you retort. “Maybe a calm cat is exactly what we need.”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps stroking the kitten’s fur as he curls up even more. Matt has something about you that puts both humans and cats at ease, you notice. The same thing that makes you want to curl up in his arms is making this tiny kitten trust him after not even a minute together. You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with affection. He’s so good at this.

You join in eventually. The kitten doesn’t shy away; he seems oddly content with the two of you already.

“So, what do you think?” you ask softly after a moment.

Matt tilts his head, considering, and for a second, you wonder if he’s really thinking about the question or if he’s just stalling. But then, he lets out a quiet sigh and says, “I don’t know… what do you think?”

You smile. He’s been through so much, been so used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something as simple as getting a pet—something that brings warmth and comfort—might feel strange to him.

You remember how it was when you started growing closer. When he asked you to move in with him. When he told you he loved you after you told him first, afraid you might still slip away from him as most people in his life have. Dealing with something small and fragile scares him. Having something to look after and care for scares him. Maybe that’s why you haven’t talked about children yet; he’s scared of making a mistake, of hurting the people he loves and has sworn to protect. But that’s not who Matt Murdock is to anyone but himself.

“I think,” you say, slipping your arm through his and leaning your head against his shoulder, “that you deserve everything good in your life. That’s why you should decide.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers still brushing through the kitten’s fur. Finally, he nods, and the smile on his face turns just a little softer, a little more real.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

The kitten meows. His collar says ‘Pumpkin’, and that is oddly on the nose, you think. The two of you, finding a cat in October, and his name is Pumpkin.

Matt chuckles. “Okay, I heard that.” And then, turning toward you, he says, “Let’s take him home.”

Your face lights up. “Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I already have the best thing I could have in the world, right here,” his chin tips toward you, “but… you’re right. We could use a little calm in our life.”

You press a kiss on his shoulder. “Then let’s do this. Let’s take him home.”

Pumpkin.

Pumpkin Murdock.

That doesn’t sound so bad. Now all you need is his last name, too.

Soon.

Very soon.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #lizzi's fictober 2024 #flufftober

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bonefall · 6 months ago

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Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.

#dungeon meshi #toshiro #shuro #shuro dungeon meshi #toshiro dungeon meshi #media analysis #autism

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dmercer91 · 1 year ago

Text

the girl in your dreams, me94

in which mark’s rabbit hole of boredom induced link clicking brings him to you, and neither of you can get enough (18+)

i’m incredibly committed to making men who are tall and broad into whiny messes who beg real sweet (4.1k)

you told yourself it was just for a few days. until the tips could bring you just over the amount you needed for rent

that was for the month of may, and here you are, at the beginning of july, still doing it.

but the money was good, and once you learnt your way around the different kinds of guys that would use your services, the tips got even better

you worked for a hotline. one of those ones that guys saw at the tops of their screen on porn sites, except you didn’t need to have a camera on, and neither did they

when you signed up you told yourself it would be less embarrassing that way. if by chance you had to be on a call with someone you’d met before, they might not know it was you just by your voice

in the beginning you asked yourself if anyone even used lines like this, if that was even a thing anymore

it was quickly proven that the idea of getting off to someone real, that would do what you wanted even though they were a stranger, was incredibly appealing to a lot of people

tonight was the fourth of july, and your line had been particularly dead.

most people could get their own fix tonight, at a party or even at the bar as most of the country celebrated its independence

that was until now, when your work phone’s vibrations knocked you out of the pleasant zone you’d been in knowing you were getting paid to sit at your desk and wait for hours

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” you started your bit, ready to tease the guy on the other line for being alone on a holiday and offer to keep him company

instead, you were met with dead silence

you furrowed your eyebrows, cooing another greeting into the phone to see if you’d been dialled by accident

“uh. hi,” the boy on the other side of the phone forced out, voice cracking and nerves evident in his tone

“hi, baby. what’s a pretty boy like you doing at home on the fourth of july?” you asked, intrigued.

the faceless aspect of the hotline you worked for was usually a security blanket for the guys that used it

they normally felt better being cocky, asking for what they wanted so they could get it over with.

because it didn’t matter what they said. if you ever saw them again, you wouldn’t know

he gulped before he answered, the sound coming through on the phone and earning a bite of your lower lip

“all my friends are in different cities. lots of travelling in my market. this time of year s’ lonely” you hummed in response, getting your bit back on track

“well, i could keep you company, sweetheart,” you murmured, stomach tightening at the hitch of his breath

he scrambled to try and agree, to tell you he wanted nothing more than for you to be his company

“y-yeah.. yes. yes, please” he rushed out after a moment too long with no response

you giggled. you rarely ever got shy ones on the line. and honestly? teasing him was gonna be fun

“are you nervous, baby? there’s no need to be. i promise i won’t bite unless you ask” you flirted and he cleared his throat, shaking his head even though you couldn’t see him

“no, s’ just i’ve never done something like this before,” he explained, his chair squeaking in the background as he adjusted anxiously

“thats alright, baby. what’s your name?”

he thought about it, ultimately deciding he’d give you his real name

“s’ mark.. what’s yours?” you smiled to yourself, crossing your legs and leaning further back into your chair

“you can call me cherry. d’you want me to help you out, mark?” a high pitched but quiet noise slipped from his lips, and you felt yourself throb

he sounded sweet as could be, and he wasn’t bossing you around like some of the other men

hell, with most of your clients, the call would’ve already been over

“i didn’t call to get off, was just for fun.. what’s your real name” you bit your lip, quickly thinking of how to turn this conversation around

you couldn’t tell him your name, it was against the rules. plus, you knew all too well a tip wouldn’t be included if he didn’t get a release

“aw, come on, baby. you spent your money on a call, at least make it worth your while” you purred, completely ignoring his last question

“plus.. i can tell how needy you are. with all the pretty noises you’ve been making” he exhaled shakily on the other line and you grinned, knowing you’d gotten your way

he paused before murmuring an agreement reluctantly. you could hear him shuffling to get himself out of his pants, hissing when the cool air hit his tip

“d’you want me to use my fingers, baby? know it won’t be as nice as yours, but it’ll feel real good,” he whimpered at your words, the cap on his bottle of lube making a loud creaking noise as he pulled it open

“fuck- fucking yes, please” he worked out, biting his knuckle at the cool sensation covering his length. once he had his hand wrapped around himself, he groaned and almost dropped his phone

you pushed your panties to the side, using spit for lubricant and pushing your fingers into yourself

you moaned softly, earning a squeak from his chair and a whine from his lips as he bucked his hips up into his hand

“oh, baby. you were needy, huh?” you teased and he struggled on the other end, wanting to tell you he wasn’t, just that it feels good

how else is he meant to react?

“poor thing.. probably throbbing in your hand. wish i could get my mouth on you. you’d be all better n’ then you could let me worry about taking care of myself,” he groaned out a no at that, tip leaking with precum at the mention of your mouth on him

“no.. no, y’ could use me. fuck- ah. fuck yourself on me. i could take it”

and by the sounds of it, you knew he couldn’t. you knew he’d be a whining mess, overstimulated and trying not to fuck up into you even though he’s so sensitive and it’s too much to bare.

you knew he’d be gripping onto your hips for dear life and leaking precum into you cause it feels so good

you knew he’d scratch at your skin and muffle his moans into your shoulder. you knew he’d come again when you pulled at his hair or moaned his name

you knew you shouldn’t be thinking of any of that. not when he was a paying customer and you’d likely never hear from him again

but it had been the first time your fingers glided smoothly inside yourself. the first time you’d felt any pleasure while talking to the guys on this line, so you kept thinking of it.

of how good he sounded right now, with just his hand wrapped around himself

of how if you could ever get your hands on him, you’d make him even worse off

of how good he’d feel inside of you, how you’d squeeze him just to watch his eyes flutter shut in pleasure

of how drunk he’d get off the feeling of you around him

of how he’d love to use his mouth, and how he’d be so proud to feel you come against him while you grip his hair

and then it dawned on you that he could live in a completely different state. you didn’t even know what he looked like. did he have hair to tug on?

and just like that, this call was work again.

“are you close, baby?” he responded with a pained whimper, gathering himself to eventually give you a confirmation

“yes, i- oh, fucking god m’ so close. can i come, please? i want- i want to come, i need it, please” you bit down on your lip so hard it drew blood, core fluttering around your fingers at how sweet he sounded

it was so, so unhealthy. but the more you curled your fingers and the closer you got, the more you wished this wasn’t business for you.

the more you wished you were with him, helping him release before he leaves for whatever city he’s going to next.

“yeah, baby. you can come. d’you wanna come with me? you’ve got me so close, feels so good,” you’d said it a hundred times, and this was the first time it was the truth.

his reaction made it even better.

“fucking- ngh.. yes. god, yes. s’ all i want. wanna come with you, please” you grinned, counting down for him and then covering your mouth to hear his pathetic whines and groans while he made a mess of himself

you leaned your head back on the rest of your chair once your heart rate came back down, lips parted in shock at how powerful your orgasm was

you quickly came back to your senses when the front door to your house slammed, signalling it was time for you to turn off your work phone for the night

“shit,” you sighed, quickly scrambling to get your shorts on right

“what? what’s wrong,” mark exhaled, and you grimaced

“oh no, it’s okay, baby. just made a mess of myself. your times just about up, s’ time to go”

“wait! what- how do i talk to you again,”

you pursed your lips, shaking your head to yourself

“ask for candy. sweet dreams, baby,” your customer service voice was higher than at the beginning of the conversation

you could not get attached to a client cause he was sweet. you wouldn’t

“you said your name was cherr-“

and the line went dead.

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” you heard the hitching of his breath through the speakers of your phone and your skin went hot

“s’ this cherry?” you licked your lips, mouth suddenly dry

it’d only been a day since your first call with him. in all honesty, you were still recovering from his voice, hearing him.

“sure is, baby. who’s this?” you knew it was him. it had to be. none of your regulars would so softly ask if they’d been directed to the right girl

truly, none of your regulars would know the difference if they’d been sent to the wrong girl

“it’s mark,” he explained, and your eyes fluttered shut.

you tried to keep your composure, act like he was just gonna be one of your new clients that came back to you every time

you were gonna ignore the fact that you’d never heard prettier moans, that you’d never come on this line before last night

“hi, baby. same as last night? know you felt real good if you’re coming right back” you faked a giggle, trying to keep up with the teasing

trying to keep up with having the control

you didn’t like to have no control.

“no, just wanna talk to you,” he said, smile evident in his tone.

fuck

“baby-“

“i’ll still tip real nice, i promise. you could take anything you want from me, baby, and i’d thank you,” your breath got caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice a painful reminder that you were on the phone with an angel that didn’t belong to you

but, he got you. you didn’t have any other true excuse. he was paying for a service, and what he wanted was to talk, so you talked

he was vague about his job, but said he was still in college

he asked if you worked elsewhere, you told him you bartended a few nights a week

he asked what kinds of things you did growing up, if any hobbies stuck around

and just as you were about to weasel your way out of the conversation, tell him your shift was up and you needed to turn off your work phone, he muttered a confession

“i had a dream about you,”

you didn’t reply, your eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a fish

“you’re real pretty, n’ we were together, having dinner with family for the fourth.

then it got.. needy, n’ i had to wake myself up but before that it was heaven. was like my perfect life, and i could finally work out who my dream girl was.

s’ you. that pretty voice, so sweet to me, n’ teasing about how we could’ve been out at a party for the fourth,”

when you took too long to answer, he muttered your stage name questioningly, like he’d thought the line went dead

“mark.. i’m not the girl in your dreams,” you explained, trying to keep your tone unfaltering despite the fact that you did not want to deny his words, even to yourself

“you don’t know what i look like, baby. you said she was real pretty. maybe someone else! someone you know, who’s nearby,”

your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard nothing in response, knowing that you’d hurt him, that he hurt himself.

eventually, he argued

“no. it was you. you talk the same, i jus’ have this feeling. i know it was you,” before you could try and calm him down, his time was up and the call cut off.

you’d hoped he’d find the girl in his dream, but you knew well enough it couldn’t possibly be you.

you knew that the whole thing had gone too far.

he shouldn’t feel rejected, and you shouldn’t feel guilty. but he was and you do, because the world is cruel like that

“hi, sweetheart. how’s your night been?” your sickly sweet tone honestly hurt your own ears at this point, tonight having been one of the busiest nights since you started working for the hotline

that’s why you didn’t notice the sweet moan your voice earned from the person on the other end

“hi, i- oh, god..” you rolled your eyes at the faint sound of lube coming in through the speakers of your phone

“already so worked up, baby,” you giggled, hoping you didn’t sound too disinterested

and then he whined, and your eyes widened.

you muttered his name and he moaned again, struggling to cool down enough to talk properly

“m’ sorry, know i freaked you out, i- i just need this so bad, please. been throbbing for days n’ it’s like you’re my fuckin’ drug,”

you smiled, cooing slightly at him.

this you could handle. this, you felt gave you control.

you helped guys get off every day, so you could just pretend that’s all this was - you helping him come

“aw, baby. sounds like you just need me to take care of you, yeah? d’ you want that?” he moaned, louder than he ever had before, the back of his throat making a guttural noise that went straight to your core.

“please, please take care of me. fuckin’ aching for your voice,” so you obliged. telling him what pace to go, a toy tucked into your panties so you could finally get off again, too.

you had him right on the edge, his increased moans and the sound of his chair from his hips bucking both telltale signs that you got him right where you needed him

“stop,”

“what?!”

“stop touching, hands off for me, baby,”

you could hear that he obliged, and you let him catch his breath before teasing him

“you’re such a good listener, baby,” you praised and he moaned, his creaking voice making his neediness all the more apparent

“fuck. tell me again, please,” you smiled to yourself, figuring it couldn’t hurt to mess with him a little more

“you can touch,” is all you said, core fluttering when he made a small noise of disappointment

the slick noises from his lube were prominent, and you knew he was holding back the best he could. trying not to moan

trying not to ask again, to plead for you to tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear

“what’s got you so quiet, baby? you’re done being good?” with that, the dam broke.

he lost it, begging you to sweet talk him some more, to confirm for him that you were satisfied with what he’d been doing

his words were a jumbled mess, pleas being drowned out by moans and you could tell he was already close again

when he finally gave up on thinking of the right words to convince you, he just repeated please

over and over again until you shushed him

he obeyed, hoping it would get him what he so desperately needed to hear from you

“there we go, baby. good. that’s good,” you paused, smiling to yourself and waiting til you heard a shaky breath from him

“you’re listening so well, sweetheart. perfect for me. good boy,”

you bit your lip, eyes closing as you heard his seat creaking with every squirm of his hips

your core throbbed at his struggle to stay quiet, because you never told him he could be loud again.

he failed miserably, hoarse wines and groans spilling from his lips and clouding your senses

you knew he’d come. his breath was hitching from over sensitivity and the slick sounds of his lube had calmed down to none as he caught his breath

you’d come, too. biting down on your knuckle to make sure your own noises couldn’t block out the ones coming in from the other line

once he caught his breath, he thanked you. over and over, he murmured his thanks so sweetly

“sweet dreams, baby,” you smiled sombrely, your own lungs finally full again

“wait, please don’t-“

“mark.”

silence filled the line, and he sniffled awkwardly

“i need to ask you not to call back, mark. i’m sorry,”

“okay,” you hung up, rubbing your face roughly and shaking your head

fuck.

“hi, sweetheart,” the brunette boy across from you rolled his eyes, a ritual you’d become quite fond of

he always came in with a group of guys, a group you eventually learned was a camp of hockey players that were developing with the devils.

he would order an unruly number of beer, and have you help him bring them to the table

today, he sat at a barstool, and ordered three beer

“no peanut gallery tonight, eddy?” you grinned and he shook his head

“just shea, tonight. he’s in the bathroom with one of our buddies from college. holding hands, or something,” he winked, taking a sip out of his bottle once you opened it for him

“oh, yeah? who’s your buddy?” you replied, drying off a newly cleaned glass and setting it in its spot

the night was slow, so you were glad he’d showed up. he was never weird, and he and his friends usually tipped generously

he looked over his shoulder, the two boys coming out of the bathroom and chatting away

he nodded towards them, and you waited for the two of them to sit before opening the other two beer and sliding them over

you smiled at seamus, a quiet greeting, and then looked over at the other boy

“you gonna tell me your name or do i have to id you?” he blushed and ethan smiled, shaking his head

“i’m just fucking with you,” you leaned over to ruffle his hair, earning a small smile

he had light hair, and he was tall, built. his cheeks were burnt red from the sun and though he was smiling, his eyes were sad

“this is mark. excuse his puppy pout, he’s all depressed cause a girl rejected him,” you playfully glared at ethan, scolding him for being mean to his friend

“we don’t even think she exists,” seamus added, eyebrows going up and down to add to the teasing

“yeah, cause he won’t tell us where she’s from, what she looks like, or even her first na-“ ethan was met with a slap to the back of the head from mark, his hat flying off and landing on the floor behind him

“she exists.” mark stated, taking a swig of his drink and relaxing his jaw, knowing his friends were just being assholes

you, however, were suddenly panicking.

this was your mark. only guy to make you come without touching you mark.

sweet, soft, needy mark who said you were the girl of his dreams. who called a number he saw on a porn site to ask you about your life

you smiled at the three of them before serving another customer, giving yourself the time to recover while making their drink

you didn’t have a clue in the world what to do, other than let him know. without embarrassing him, without making a mess of his social life, you needed him to know

casually coming back over to them to finish up doing dishes, you leaned on your elbows

“tell me more about your girl, sweetheart,” you emphasized the sweetheart, putting on your hotline girl tone for the one word and hoping ethan and seamus just thought you were teasing him

you watched as his eyes went wide, then quickly set back to normal. he blinked a few times, cheeks doing pink and lips parting in shock

“she’s real pretty. i hardly even know her and it’s like she’s studied me her whole life. the second we met she knew her way around me,”

you raised an eyebrow, telling him to continue

“i don’t know, she’s got a spot in my head where my life looks different. nobody else does that,” he mumbled, eyes boring into yours with a pleading look

he just needed one chance

“a daydreamer, hm?” you teased him and smiled bashfully

“i’ve got a boy like that. his spot in my brain’s different, too. but i don’t even know if he’s really like that. most of him i just made up,” you shrugged, hoping he would get the hint

when you met him, you saw a life that wasn’t yours. that would never be yours. a fake timeline you could think of when shit got hard, is all

but you’d never have that, because the version of him you think of is your dream boy. someone based off him, but not really him

you gave him new hobbies in your head. you gave him a personality you weren’t sure even came close to his, cause you didn’t know him, he just sparked you to want better.

he was just a bedtime story. something to help you see what you really wanted in the grand scheme of things, in the future

you knew in his head, he saw a girl that could take care of him all the time the same way you did on the calls

but that wasn’t the truth and you knew it. you had more to you than that. more problems, more shit going on that wasn’t front and centre in the version of you he made

nobody ever sees dimension in a daydream, yourself included.

“i don’t mind if she’s not the same as i made her out to be,”

before you could respond there was a hand on your ass and waist, a mouth too close to your ear for your liking.

“bottomless pockets at table 12. he wants you,”

you cowered into yourself, uncomfortable in the way he was grabbing you and uncomfortable with serving ‘bottomless pockets’

“you know he gets handsy, ryan, i don’t-“ your whisper shouting was cut off by his grip tightening on your waist

“do you want to fucking walk home?” you shook your head, looking over at mark before going over to serve table 12

when you came back, sporting a tight lipped smile, ethan had been in the bathroom and mark hadn’t taken his eyes off you

“i’ll take a walk,” seamus nodded, giving you a pitiful look before getting up off his stool and walking away

“i’m not the girl in your dreams, mark. i can’t be. i’m stuck being the girl in theirs,” he looked down at his drink, messing with the empty bottle.

“you’ll be the girl in my dreams til i can convince you to be the girl in my arms, y/n.”

#e’s fics #e goes a little feral #mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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justrandomtrashes · 2 months ago

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i made it...

Upload AO3 done!

This text was translated using a translation tool. Please understand that there may be grammatical errors, awkward sentences, or typos.

The train began to move.

Everything had returned to normal. The Termina festival ended with the ascension and mercy of the machine god Logic, and there was no longer any need to kill innocent people.

Sitting in the train speeding away from the ruins of Freheville, Pav pulled out a crumpled photo from his pocket. He had barely survived, but his family hadn’t. Pav kept recalling the scenes of his precious family and neighbors being brutally trampled and violated by the Bremen military. It was the only way he could sharpen the blade of revenge aimed at Kaiser. But Kaiser had disappeared like a summer urban legend. At the very least, Pav should have inflicted a mortal wound, but he couldn’t do anything. Over a decade had passed since he enlisted in the army of the enemy he despised, and now, he had no idea what he needed to do to save his tormented soul. Should he return to his homeland? Would the people of his home welcome Pav, who was, in the end, little more than a traitor who turned his back on his country? Carefully, Pav folded the picture in half. The bright smiles of his much younger siblings disappeared with the crease. He didn’t know who to blame. The plan he had prepared for so long had failed, but his body was still intact. He would track down Kaiser’s whereabouts. Just as his thirst for revenge flared once more, he heard a rustling sound.

When Marcoh realized Pav had no place to return to, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. His habit of feeling sympathy for someone in dire straits, even a war criminal, was hard to shake. Karin, the woman they had met in Preheville, scolded Marcoh, asking how he could feel sympathy for someone who had almost killed him with a bullet. She pressed hard to interrogate Pav about the Bremen Empire's military experiments.

"I don’t like women who talk too much," Pav said, waving his hand dismissively at Karin, treating her like a bothersome insect. The few people trying to calm her fiery temper looked rather pitiable.

Surrounded by the crowd that eyed him warily, Pav silently listened as they debated what to do with him. "The war’s over, so why bother?" someone muttered. Others argued back. Pav buried his face into the velvet couch, pretending to sleep. He neither defended himself nor expressed anger; he just endured the stones of hatred and pity silently. "The war is over." The words circled in his mind like flies on rotting food.

"I might be able to help you."

Pav’s head snapped around at the voice. Marcoh. The big man, with fists like meat hammers, spoke up. "I have a sister. She lives in a villa..." And? So what? "I could ask if you could stay there." You’re serious? "After all, you weren’t truly part of the Bremen army, not in your heart. I’ve done things I didn’t want to do, too." Pav felt a surge of irritation at the thought that Marcoh felt some kind of kinship with him. Don’t look at me with pity, he shot back in an exasperated tone. "I’m not doing this because I pity you. I just want to give you a chance." Marcoh had long since made up his mind. He was a man of strong conviction, and there would be nothing Pav could do to disappoint him now.

He wasn’t particularly devout, but he was a follower of Allmer. When he was young and working as a shoeshiner to buy sneakers for his younger sister, the clear chimes of the prayer hall intrigued him. He would push open the grand doors and face the imposing statues and crosses that even the thugs in the alley dared not challenge. That was when Marcoh began to believe in God. To be precise, he hoped that if God existed, He would protect his only family, his sister, and give him the courage to survive in the mire of the Vatican orphanage. Even if he adapted to reality, it didn’t mean he shouldn’t have hope. Marcoh dreamed of traveling the world with his sister someday. Though it seemed an unlikely dream given their financial situation, imagination was not a crime, and he could wish for it in his heart. If given the chance, he wanted to taste various gelatos around the world and become a zoologist.

Pav found Marcoh somewhat bothersome. Despite his size, Marcoh was very naive and immune to worldly affairs. Even after moving between the slums of the Vatican and underground arenas, he always flustered when dealing with elderly people in need. His naivety led to him being pickpocketed multiple times, and Pav had to chase away scammers who targeted Marcoh. Moreover, Marcoh had a fondness for small animals and often had a flushed face. Contrary to his mafia-like appearance, Marcoh was a man with a kind heart.

Pav, on the other hand, was different. He wasn’t cunning from birth, but he had a knack for sneaking into his father’s wallet to buy pistachio ice cream or inserting himself into the pecking order disguised as boys’ games. Pav’s mother would often smile with a girl-like laugh when she saw him bouncing around restlessly like a frog, unable to endure boredom. Although Pav’s mischief was annoying, the negative feelings melted away because he was family. Pav’s father was often busy and rarely home, leaving the task of taking care of Pav and his siblings mostly to their mother. Pav would watch his mother’s back as she handled the household chores alone. “You’re the eldest, so you must grow up to be reliable,” his mother would say, gently stroking Pav’s golden hair.

Golden baptismal light shines like a nebula in the reed fields of nostalgia. The fresh scent of his hometown lingers at the tip of Pav's nose. He slowly opens his eyelids and kicks the blanket off with his foot. Again, it’s that damned dream. The past he thought was forgotten has once again gnawed at him like a rat eating poison. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his forehead, Pav gets up and walks to the kitchen. Marcoh’s sister has probably gone out to work at the laundromat. Pav’s room is located at the far right end of the house, so it’s rare that he encounters her. Although Marcoh had warmly accepted Pav living in the same house, which made Pav dislike her less, he still didn’t approach her much. Despite her short bob and refreshing appearance making her an attractive woman, Pav, who had a lascivious side, was deterred by Marcoh’s evident affection for her. It was curious that she seemed content with their current poor and mundane life, and Pav found the siblings either naive or foolish, looking down on them with disdain.

Even at Marcoh’s cheerful “Good morning,” Pav remained indifferent, rolling his eyes without saying much. Marcoh had become almost too polite, a stark contrast to the sly Bremen officer Pav had encountered in Freheville. No, it wasn’t politeness but rather indifference. Given that his plans to end his life had collapsed and he had nothing left to lose, it was no wonder he had let go of any hopes. After seeing the village become a mess of fires and shells while fetching water for his whiny younger sibling, Pav had grown pessimistic about everything. He had become skilled at being sarcastic and remained cynical, just like he had been in the train. The only person who saw any potential for redemption in him was Marcoh. Pav scoffed at Marcoh, as if to say, “People can’t be fixed.” When Marcoh diligently wiped the dust from the surface with a damp cloth, Pav clicked his tongue. (His habit of clicking his tongue, it seemed, was unshakable.)

Breakfast is served on the table. Pav pokes at the mashed potatoes and dry bread with a fork while observing Marcoh’s expression. He looks as serene as a monk. In truth, Marcoh was conscious of Pav but didn’t want to show too much sympathy for fear of making Pav uncomfortable. On the other hand, he was concerned about him. Whether as a new family member or a friend, Marcoh wondered if Pav could endure the ambiguous relationship. It felt like bringing a rebellious stray dog into the house. Marcoh understood Pav’s resistance to this difficult situation, as he too remembered the war and saw why Pav, who never loosened his vigilance, was so cold. PTSD. It was probably that. Although Marcoh didn’t know the exact nature of post-traumatic stress disorder, being a clump of sticky mud from over ten years in the battlefield, Pav’s coldness was understandable. Marcoh felt as though Pav’s wandering was somehow his own fault.

But it was Pav who broke the silence that filled the dining room. "Why don’t you say something? Sitting here like this makes it seem like we’ve had some kind of marital spat." He set his fork down on his plate and leaned back in his chair, arms comfortably draped over the armrests. The atmosphere was so heavy it was ruining his appetite.

"Uh... thanks. For starting the conversation." Marcoh, now faced with the challenge of keeping the dialogue going, scratched his head. He wasn’t as articulate as Levi, whose mind was unsettled by the long war. The sight of Marcoh struggling to pull together something to say so as not to miss the chance for a smoother relationship seemed pitiable to Pav.

"Oh, don’t mention it. How's the gym going?" Marcoh looked surprised that Pav showed interest in him and put down his utensils.

"I’ve taken it over. The previous owner was moving away."

"Is that so." Marcoh didn’t say “Good for you.” Pav’s manners had long been mixed with cow manure in the Boronya reed fields.

The silence was so profound that even the sound of eating was absent, making the air extremely awkward. Marcoh had to activate his brain again to come up with some plausible topic.

"...Do you regret it?" Regret what? Pav’s busy hands suddenly stopped like a red traffic light.

"No." He chewed the morsels in his mouth a few times before swallowing them. The plate was clean. Marcoh’s cooking wasn’t half bad.

"You must be thinking that I can't adapt here and that I resent you for bringing me into this place..." The pendulum clock ticked away.

"That’s not true." I don’t regret anything. Not joining the army of the one I hate, not following you.

So don’t pity me. Pav stared at the empty plate for a moment before getting up from his chair. His sapphire-like blue eyes fixed on Marcoh.

"I’m going to live on. You gave me a chance. And I’ll kill Kaiser. By any means necessary." Pav curled one corner of his mouth into a slight smile. It wasn’t a smirk. It was a reassuring smile.

"So don’t try to please me like a frightened puppy. That’s even more irritating. ...Oh, one more thing, sprinkle some sugar on the bread. I like it sweet." Marcoh nodded in understanding. Pav went back to his room.

It was the same breakfast as usual. Marcoh was a little pleased that he might be able to make meat stew for dinner tonight.

#pavcoh #f&h

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twitchmattentusiast · 19 days ago

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hiii i don’t have a big enough blog but im sure you’ll be able to get ppl to help if you blog this??

https://www.tumblr.com/jasmiedhillon4/767017822600773632/i-never-imagined-id-be-in-a-position-where-id

stop thank you so much for sharing this!!!!!

i’ve read the description of the fundraiser and to try and convince you guys to donate im going to share some reasons why this kinda hits home and why im sharing this.

i don’t tell many people about this and honestly? i only started telling people four years ago and that was because 14 year old me broke down and revealed everything by accident.

i’ve lived in an abusive household. if you couldn’t tell by my nickname already i have ethnic backgrounds and abuse is unfortunately normal for people of my culture. but the lengths of abuse i dealt with were not normal.

there’s double standards in my religion. and that’s half the reason why personally i step back from it. the only time i do religious activities it to accompany my grandparents (mostly my grandma) who usually goes by herself but since im visiting ill go with her just to keep her company.

im sikh and in my religion it is very common for men to drink alcohol. its shameful for women to drink alcohol. now listen, i do drink alcohol and the females in my family do too but we’ve always drank in moderation never to a high extent. though my mum was a raging alcoholic.

my mum always had problems with alcohol. according to my uncles when she was my age she used to drink so much she’d frequently end up in the hospital. when she had me though she stopped and for years she’d have one drink every once in a while until she met my step dad.

now my step dad was an abusive alcohol asshole. he physically and mentally abused my mother and mentally abused me. when my mum kicked him out she fell into depression, and she had to blame someone so she blamed me.

i didn’t mind i used to be close to her so i let her do it. at first it was only mentally and i had already been dealing with that since i was 5 so it didn’t affect me but it quickly turned physically.

lockdown was the worst time of my life. i would hide in my room. i was so scared to go downstairs that i wouldn’t eat. i fell into depression, distanced myself from my friends i closed myself off completely. and when we restrictions were lifted my uncle came to visit and i broke down and told him everything.

since then my relationship with my mother has been non-existent. she blames me for having to marry my step dad, ruining her relationship with her family all those kinds of things.

i thought that i’d be stuck in that house forever. that id never get out. but i have. it was she’d, not easy and there’s still days that are really hard. im estranged from my mother now.

i still talk to my little sisters and my mums side of the family but not her.

all i ever wanted to do was leave. to escape the abuse and be able to live a life with no fear.

so please, please, please help this girl and her little brother. even donating a little can help so much and it can make her realise she is NOT alone.

this was very personal to share but i’m starting to tell myself that it’s okay to share things because there’s people around you who could be suffering too and you have no idea.

so if there’s anyone who’s dealing with similar situations please know that you are not alone. my inbox is always open or if you just want to talk one on one you can dm me.

i love all of you and i really hope this girl gets the help she needs.

love nim.

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 1 year ago

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Daisies

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Eddie comes to school acting strangely and you’re determined to figure out why

Warnings: Mentions of parent death and mourning, allusions to suicide and abuse, Eddie's guilt/insecurity, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want

A/N: I’ve had this idea forever and finally finished it! But yeah, please do mind the warnings, there’s some heavy stuff in here.

My Master List | Ao3

You hum to yourself as you gather the necessary supplies from your locker. It’s a cold, gray day in late fall and a chill hangs heavy in the air. Normally this would bother you more, but you’re currently swathed in an oversized flannel Eddie had left at your place the other day.

Admittedly, you and Eddie haven’t been together all that long, but in that time, you’ve grown extremely close. The two of you just fit together in a way you never have with someone before. Most people in Hawkins don’t really get Eddie, but you like to think you understand him in a way that a lot of people can’t, or maybe just won't take the time to.

That’s how you know, when he comes trudging into English class several minutes late, that something’s up. Eddie being late to class isn’t exactly out of character on its own, but him blowing you off is. You like to think you’ve been a good influence on him, his tendency to cut class has certainly lessened with you around. You almost always walk to your shared English class together, usually with Eddie practically hanging off of you, so him not showing up without telling you is odd.

“Mr. Munson, you’re late”, Mrs. O’Donnell says, affixing him with a stern glare.

“Sorry”, he mutters, making his way to his desk. That’s strange too. He’s usually got a clever remark lined up for these situations.

You look over at him as he plops down at his usual spot beside you. He doesn’t say anything to you, probably because Mrs. O’Donnell has started back in on her lecture, although he normally wouldn’t let that stop him.

Your immediate thought is that maybe you’d upset him somehow, even if you can’t imagine what you possibly could’ve done. The last interaction you’d had with him had been perfectly normal, and even if it hadn’t, he usually was the type to speak his mind, especially to you.

Maybe you’re over thinking things. Maybe he was just running late. He’s never exactly been known for being organized or having good time management skills.

You try to tell yourself that, but as the class period wears on, you get more concerned. Normally Eddie spends class making faces at you and muttering snarky comments about Mrs. O’Donnell’s lecture under his breath. He’s quiet today, doesn’t look over at you, just stares ahead, though you can tell from the distant look in his eye, he isn’t paying attention to what Mrs. O’Donnell is saying either.

Your worrying makes class seem to go on longer than usual. It feels like a miracle when the bell finally rings.

“Hey”, you say to Eddie as he gathers up his stuff, “I missed you earlier.”

“Hm?” he says, “oh yeah, sorry. I was running late this morning.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah of course, why?”

“I don’t know, you seem kind of…off today.”

“I’m fine”, he insists.

You don’t really believe him, but it doesn’t seem like he’s planning on talking to you about it, so there isn’t anything else you can do. He’s still quiet when he walks you to your locker. You get your books and lean in to give the customary kiss on the lips you always share. Usually Eddie would respond enthusiastically, but he just kind of stands there this time.

You don’t see Eddie again until lunch, and that ends up being more of the same. The rest of the table is engaged in a lively discussion that Eddie only occasionally adds to. You try to get him engaged in the conversation, but every question or comment you shoot him is met with a limited response.

None of the others seem to notice, or if they do they don’t mention it, but then again you suppose a gaggle of teenage boys can’t be expected to have an outpouring of emotional awareness. You notice, though, and it's highly concerning. Whether Eddie’s mood is somehow related to your relationship or if it’s something else causing it, it’s clear he’s going through something right now. All you really want to do is find some way to help him, but without knowing what’s going on, you’re not sure how to do it.

It’s not a surprise when Eddie doesn’t appear at your locker at the end of the day to walk you to your car. Truthfully, you’re a little hurt by it, but try to remind yourself it might not be because of anything you did.

You don’t see Eddie, but you do see Jeff and Gareth walking by, and decide they’re probably your best bet at figuring out what’s going on with your boyfriend. Maybe he mentioned something to one of them.

“Hey”, you call, walking over to them.

“Oh hey”, Jeff greets.

“Do you guys know if something’s going on with Eddie?” you ask, “he was acting really weird today.”

“Oh yeah, I’m not surprised”, Jeff tells you, “he sometimes gets like that this time of year.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know?” Gareth asks.

“Know what?”

“He probably wouldn’t want us telling you this”, Jeff explains, “but this is right around the time his mom died.”

“Oh”, you say.

Logically, you know that Eddie’s mom isn’t in his life. He’s made an off hand mention or two of his dad being in prison, but you can’t recall him ever bringing his mom up. It’s really not something you’ve ever thought about before, but it does make sense.

“Yeah. He was a little kid when it happened but sometimes, when it gets close to the anniversary, he gets a little weird”, Jeff informs you, “Don’t worry, he’ll be back to normal in a day or two.”

You give him a little nod before walking off. Dustin is already waiting for you in your car when you get there. As you start the ignition, your mind races with thoughts of Eddie.

Jeff and Gareth didn’t seem all that concerned, but you’re not so sure. You honestly feel a little bad for thinking Eddie’s behavior was somehow about you. Maybe this is normal for him, and maybe it is only temporary, but it’s still extremely jarring to see your normally energetic boyfriend behaving so strangely.

By the time you’re pulling into your driveway, you’ve come to a decision. Dustin climbs out of the passenger seat, but you don’t follow his lead.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asks.

“You go ahead”, you tell him, “I’m gonna go to Eddie’s. Be back later.”

He gives you a confused look, but ultimately just shrugs and heads inside while you pull back out and head off towards Forest Hills Trailer Park.

Thankfully, Eddie’s van is parked in front of the trailer when you get there. You knock on the door and wait patiently for him to answer.

He does, after a moment, looking surprised.

“Uh, hey”, he says, “what are you doing here?”

“Well”, you explain, “you seemed so off today at school. I wanted to come and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine”, he insists once again, “you don’t need to check up on me.”

“Eddie”, you admit, “I know about your mom.”

He deflates slightly. You almost expect him to get angry that you learned this detail behind his back, but instead he just sighs and steps to the side, gesturing for you to come inside.

“I feel bad”, you say as he leads you to his room, “I know you probably would’ve told me if you wanted to talk about it. I just, I was worried because you were acting so weird and I asked Jeff and Gareth so they told me.”

“It’s fine”, he says, motioning for you to sit down on his bed, “I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just distracted today.”

“You don't have to apologize”, you say, hopping onto the bed while he walks over to his desk and starts rooting around for something.

“No. It’s stupid”, he says, “I mean, I was 7 when it happened. It shouldn’t, you know, affect me so much.”

“You lost a parent”, you reply, “I think you can be forgiven for still being upset about that.”

Eddie just shrugs, like he doesn’t quite believe you. He walks over and sits down beside you, handing you what you realize is a worn old photo of a young woman.

“Is this her?” you ask, but the answer is obvious. Her soft, plush lips and big brown eyes? They’re just like Eddie’s.

Eddie nods.

“She’s beautiful”, you tell him.

“Yeah”, Eddie says wistfully, “I always kind of wondered what she was doing with my old man. I mean, I know why. ‘Cause of me. But I just…she was young and beautiful and she could’ve had anyone. Why’d she pick him?”

You gently rub his shoulder. You don’t have an answer for that.

“Anyway”, he continues, “she um, she took a bunch of pills one day. I came home from school and she was…she was gone. I mean, I don’t really blame her or anything. Things were rough. Her and dad fought a lot. He was a drinker and he’d always be out all night doing who knows what. He had problems keeping a steady job, so we had a lot of money trouble too. I guess it was all too much for her.”

“Oh my god”, you say, “that’s awful.”

“I used to be kind of mad at her, you know”, he sighs, “I know she had issues and stuff, but I just…I hated that she left me alone with him. My dad I mean.”

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that”, you tell him softly.

“I’m not mad anymore”, he assures you, “I just miss her now.”

You run a hand softly across his back. You’ve never seen Eddie like this before. It’s honestly a little overwhelming, because you know this isn’t something he’d tell just anyone. He’s putting an insane amount of trust in you right now, and you wish you could do more to help him.

“Do you ever go see her?” you ask after a moment, “I mean, is she buried in town?”

“Yeah”, he answers, “but I don’t…I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Do you want to?” you say, “I mean, you don’t have to or anything. But I’ll go with you if you do.”

He thinks about it for a moment, and you worry you might have overstepped your boundaries, but then he lets out a sigh.

“I guess we can, yeah.”

You buy a nice bouquet of daisies on your way to the cemetery. Eddie clearly doesn’t know anything about flowers, but he does recall his mom having daisies in her garden and liking them a lot.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he hasn’t been in a while, or so you assume because it takes a little bit of effort for him to locate her grave.

The grave itself is well kept, but bare. You take a second to read over the inscription on the headstone.

Pamela Eileen Munson

January 11th, 1947-November 15th, 1973

Beloved Wife, Mother and Daughter

Eddie, for his part, just stands there, clutching the bouquet awkwardly. You start to feel a little bit of guilt creeping in, then. Did you make a mistake by convincing Eddie to come here? You know some people find comfort in visiting the graves of their loved ones, but maybe he doesn’t.

“Um…hey mom”, he finally starts, “I uh, I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while. I’ve been…busy I guess. My band is still going. We play at the Hideout every week. We don’t get much of an audience, but hey, it’s a start.”

You grab a hold of Eddie’s hand and give it a gentle, encouraging squeeze.

“Oh, and Hellfire Club”, he continues, starting to sound a little more enthusiastic now, “I’m still running that, too. I still, um, still haven’t graduated yet but I’m working on it. Let’s see, what else?”

He looks over at you and a small but genuine grin starts to creep over his features.

“I have a girlfriend now”, he says, but his eyes are still on you, not the grave, “she’s…she’s amazing, Mom. She’s beautiful and smart and puts up with all my bullshit.”

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he pulls you in close, pressing a small kiss to your temple.

“You’d like her a lot”, he says, addressing his mom once again, “in fact, it was her idea to come visit you. I wish you could meet her.”

As quickly as his smile comes, it’s fading again, and you think you can see tears starting to gather on his lashes.

“I miss you, Mom”, he says softly, “I love you.”

The two of you stand there for a little while longer, your head on Eddie’s shoulder and your hand gently rubbing his back. Eventually he turns to you.

“I think I’m ready to go”, he says.

“Alright”, you reply, “how about we grab some dinner? I’ll buy.”

“You don’t have to do that”, Eddie replies.

“No, but I want to," you insist.

A hopeful warmth blooms in your chest when you see Eddie’s grin return, timid but definitely there.

“She loved music”, Eddie recounts as the two of you chat over burgers and milkshakes, “she played piano and she was always listening to her records.”

You smile softly.

“And she loved gardening too”, Eddie continues, “she was always in the yard. She used to have all these bird feeders and she’d just watch them from the kitchen window.”

“She sounds amazing”, you reply.

“She was”, Eddie tells you, “I always feel kind of bad, you know? I mean, she gave up everything to take care of me and I repaid her by being a fuck up.”

“You’re not a fuck up”, you assure him.

“I mean, I’m a third time senior who deals drugs to high schoolers”, Eddie counters, “I know there’s not a lot to be proud of here.”

“Of course there is”, you tell him, “I mean, you’re an amazing guitarist, and you’re super creative. Plus, it’s really sweet how you look out for Dustin and the others. Surely your mom would be proud of that.”

“I guess”, Eddie replies.

You reach across the table, taking Eddie’s hand in your own and gently rubbing a thumb over it.

“She would be”, you insist, “you’re an amazing person, Eddie.”

“Maybe”, Eddie sighs, “I just…I can’t help feeling guilty, you know? Her marriage was Hell. My dad was a fucking drunk and half the time didn’t even come home at night. Probably sleeping with other women. And when he was home, he was always angry about something. I saw him hit her a few times.”

“That’s awful”, you say.

“He-he used to say it was my fault. That if it weren’t for me, she’d still be here…”

There’s tears starting to well in his eyes. You squeeze his hand, your heart stinging at the pain in his voice.

“It’s not your fault”, you tell him, “you were just a kid. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“She wouldn’t have married him if it weren’t for me”, Eddie mutters, “she wouldn’t have been miserable if it weren’t for me.”

“Eddie”, you insist softly, “don’t put that on yourself. It’s not your fault things happened the way they did.”

Eddie doesn’t argue, but you can tell by the look on his face that he doesn’t believe you. To most people, Eddie is the very picture of confidence and bravado. Few people get close enough to see beneath all of that. In the time you’ve gotten to know him, though, you’ve come to understand that Eddie has constructed that persona for himself, a carefully crafted suit of armor he wears to protect himself from the world. The words he’s heard from both his peers and his father, they’ve chipped away at him, deep down. Much as he plays it off as him not caring, there’s a part of him deep down that does. You understand now, why certain things bother Eddie so much. Being told he was somehow to blame for his mother’s death, that had to be painful, that had to leave some lasting marks.

You’re struck in that moment with how profoundly intimate it all is. You know it couldn’t have been easy for Eddie to open up this much to you and you know it means a lot.

“I um, I’m ready to go now”, Eddie says and you agree, standing up to deposit your food in the trash can.

“So, um, thanks for all that”, Eddie says as you walk back to your car.

“Don’t mention it”, you say while the two of you climb in, “and Eddie, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I won’t ever judge you or anything, I promise.”

“I know”, Eddie says and there’s the faintest glimmer of a tear in his eye and you lean in and press a kiss to his lips.

“Want me to wait around until Wayne gets home?” you ask Eddie.

“You don’t have to”, Eddie says, “he’s working a double so…”

“Are you sure?” you offer, “I could always call my mom up and tell her Vickie’s cat got put down and she needs emotional support.”

A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face at your proposal.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble?” he asks.

“Nah”, you say, “I really am helping a friend in need. I’ve got some emergency underwear stashed in my car, so maybe I can just borrow something of yours to sleep in.”

“Yeah”, Eddie agrees,”that sounds good.”

Wayne gets home from his shift in the early hours of the morning. As he walks inside, he’s greeted by the sight of you and Eddie, passed out on the couch, while some movie plays on the tv. He shakes his head, letting out a fond chuckle before preparing for bed himself.

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aphrodaisyacs · 1 year ago

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This might be an odd question, but do you have any tips or preferences when it comes writing Natsuo? Asking for *ahem* reasons...

Ok well I guess like with all fanfic writing I use canon as a jumping point. He’s not exactly a flat character because the few moments he’s given imply a lot of depth, and it’s pretty fun to tease out that depth.

What we know from canon:

Out of all his siblings, Natsuo is the only one who appears to have a “normal” social life. He has a girlfriend who he presumably met during a university class, and he’s implied to prefer hanging out with her and his other friends instead of going back to visit his childhood home (much to Fuyumi’s annoyance lol). Based on his interactions with others he seems to be a sociable and friendly person (when Endeavor isn’t around to sour the mood at least). Personality-wise he also seems to be a confrontational person, in the sense that time and again he doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable conversations or topics- he prefers to air out all the grievances instead of letting them fester.

Currently, he and Fuyumi are the closest out of all the family members. They grew up together and they have the most normal sibling relationship out of everyone (the bar is on the ground tho aljsbd). In the scene where we first see them visiting Rei in the hospital together we also see them bantering and playfully poking at each other and he loves and respects her enough to put up with Endeavor for her sake.

It is no secret that Natsuo despises Endeavor—for being responsible for Touya’s death, for his treatment of Rei and Shouto and most likely also for the way he left Fuyumi as the responsible “adult” in charge of the home. The latter is implied from the way Natsuo spoke about how he tried to help her, ie with the cooking, but he was forced to stop when Endeavor complained about his cooking so it became Fuyumi’s responsibility again.

Then there’s all the trauma surrounding Touya, the way he feels like his brother wouldn’t have had to die (and become a villain) if only he’d listened to him when he needed it and maybe talked him out of some of his more extreme beliefs. It’s implied that he’s studying his current degree (medical welfare I think?) because of Touya, because he wants to help more people like his brother. There’s a lot of (irrational) guilt wrapped up in his feelings about Touya, but as seen in recent chapters he’s willing to put in the work and walk the long and difficult road to mend things between Touya and the rest of the family.

Now onto headcanon territory (most of which are extrapolated from canon):

I think that he has extremely low self esteem, due to the neglect he suffered while growing up. Not just from Endeavor, but from Rei too—here’s some thoughts I’ve already had about this, copy-pasted from the end AN of ch13 in WHFO:

I've always gotten the feeling that she and Natsuo were never particularly close, especially before she was hospitalised. Because he must've been what, 3 when she had to pass him over to be raised by the housekeeper while she completely shifted her focus to Shouto? Not to mention that his physical resemblance to Endeavor would've made it hard for her to even look at him, especially as her mental health spiralled. I just feel like Rei never really got much of a chance to get close to him the way she did with her other children, which is sad because that means Natsuo didn't have much of a relationship with either of his parents when he needed it most during his formative years faksjdlfs that is most definitely not going to have an impact on him at all, nope :)

Expanding on that I think he is also incredibly affection starved, and even as he strives to make a life for himself outside the family a part of him might always find it hard to accept praise or even just the idea that people would genuinely think he’s great to be around or good at things in general. Just you know, general symptoms of someone who had a childhood of emotional neglect.

Because of the whole thing with Rei I also think that he’s hyperaware of how much he physically resembles Endeavor. Does this mean he’s probably insecure about his looks as a result? Yes I do like to think so, especially for the Angst™️. It also doesn’t help that all of his other siblings look like their mum so he’s got that extra dose of feeling like the odd one out.

I also really like the headcanon that he inherited Endeavor’s short temper and general anger issues. Not only because that’s Angst Deluxe, but also because it would be interesting to explore how he grapples with it, and the internal conflict he feels about how scared he is of becoming like his father. This is why I love writing scenes where he’s arguing with his siblings or shouts at them only to watch them flinch because the psychic damage + self-loathing that would follow? Impeccable. Unparalleled. 👌

#asks #laarbybarbtbox #bnha #todoroki natsuo #sorry I just realised how angsty all the hcs are akdhdjdk #I hope you find this helpful anyway

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watatsumiis · 2 years ago

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Ah, greetings, dear author.

I noticed that your work suggestions are open right now and since i love your writing, i thought about giving it a try. But if smth not to your liking, feel free to ignore. Ill respect your final decision regardless.

So, suggestion itself is, maybe you wouldnt mind writing for a tall reader that looks intimidating and acts like it, but inside they are really sweet? Im not sure about exact idea, but maybe how characters would defence/comfort reader when somebody says bad rumors about them? Or like, they say really mean things cause of their apperiance?

I wasnt been able to find any rules for such asks, so ill undertand if u would want to change smth here.

So, character wise, maybe for Albedo, Xiao, Aether(?) and Wanderer(?) ?

By the way, hope ull have a nice time of the day.

Hi there!!!

Thank you so much for your kind words about my work, it really does mean the world to me, every little comment does <3

This is such an interesting request, I’ve been sitting on it for a while and I just hope I can do it justice! Disclaimer though, I’m the shortest and least intimidating person ever, so let's hope I can channel my inner tallscary (/lh) and go off of that :3

I added Heizou and Venti too so this could just be a fun little Anemo boy (+ Albedo (and -Kazuha I forgot him I'm sorry)) miniseries (and since I know you also like Heizou!) :D I haven't really written for Aether or Heizou before (and very minimal amounts of Scara) so here's hoping I've done alright!

Content: Gender neutral reader who is described as being tall and intimidating. Nameless characters spread mean rumours/say mean things (nothing explicit is mentioned), some hinted violence in Xiao and Wanderer/Scara’s sections (because of course there is)

Aether is like a sweet little golden retriever from day one. Despite your intimidating looks and stature, he follows behind you and dotes on you until your hard outer walls crumble and he can waltz on in like he owns the place. He always believes in the kindness of people, so no matter how many times you push him away or try to intimidate him, he’s always back for more because he just knows you’re a softie on the inside - and he’s right! He’s delighted to have been correct and will be all smug and happy with himself because of it.

If others were to insult you and talk badly about you behind your back… Aether will take it personally. He can be a bit overly-empathetic at times, and if he ever catches anyone saying something mean about you, he'll tell them off, only to get himself so worked up that he ends up in tears as he continues to scold the person who did it. He doesn't care about his reputation or causing a scene, he only cares about defending his friend from some big mean bullies. Once all is said and done he'll reassure you so many times that you're one of the kindest and loveliest people he's ever met and anyone who says otherwise is obviously someone so miserable with their own lives that they take it out on others.

Albedo may approach you with some caution at first - not because of your appearance, more because the signals you give off make it seem as if you don't want to be talked to. Once he's realised that's just one of your normal mannerisms, he disregards it entirely and will happily work to befriend you. He may sometimes ask you to help out around the lab (usually getting things off high shelves for him) and will use that time to get to know you better, away from prying eyes and people that may try to interrupt your budding friendship. It fills him with accomplishment to realise that you're letting your guard down around him and exposing your softer side - it may not seem like it, but he does keep note of a lot of your actions and behaviours and documents any changes.

At first, Albedo is rather puzzled when he hears about the unkind rumours going around about you and your 'unfriendly' demeanour. It's just not something that's ever occurred to him and he simply doesn't understand why people would be wasting their time spreading such obvious lies. He doesn't hesitate to point this out, blatantly calling people out in such a deadpan and genuine way that there's not much anyone can say to him that will convince him otherwise. He'll go into this psychoanalysis of why humans tend to gossip and encourage them to take up more productive hobbies instead while they just stand by, gobsmacked at his audacity. Once all is said and done, his way of 'comforting' you is still rather detached. He'll just smartly inform you that these assumptions people make based on your appearance are 'illogical and shallow' and encourage you not to worry about it. If you're still upset

Heizou often sees people as a puzzle to be solved, a mystery box to be poked and prodded at until they give up all their interesting little secrets, and you're no exception. He's not put off by your appearance in the slightest, approaching you almost every time he sees you to ask questions and try to find out more about you. No matter how you react or push him away, he bounces back nearly immediately and continues to test your patience as he tries to get you to let him in. He knows there's an aspect that you're hiding, and he wants to know what it is. Once you've revealed your softer side, he may lightheartedly tease you for it, but never in a mean way, and if you seem upset, he stops right away. He revels in being one of those stubborn enough to have befriended you.

Heizou hears a lot of rumours in his day to day life - most he tends to disregard unless they're useful to him. When it comes to you, however, he will matter-of-factly correct each and every person he overhears speaking about you, backing his arguments up by citing times he's noticed you being nice to others (and to him of course), refuting every argument that people may make until they're stuttering and stumbling over their words, absolutely turned around on themselves because of how thorough he is in his dressing-down of them. It's like watching a court case. If the person continues to be nasty, he might just dig up some unpleasant dirt on them and pass it on to a known gossiper and watch it pan out from there. One way or another, he'll make sure your pride is avenged, and will always comfort you if you happen to hear anything that upsets you.

Scaramouche is flighty around you, especially at first. He isn't quite sure how to act, and vacillates between trying to antagonise you and essentially clinging to you. He'll push your boundaries time and time again, waiting for you to snap, but you just… don't. It frustrates him to start off with, the fact that you seem so unshakeable, but eventually it becomes a source of comfort for him, especially once he picks up on your softer side shining through. Of course, he's as stubborn as anything and will completely deny the fact that he draws any comfort from your presence, but there's no mistaking the way his shoulders relax and his breathing slows when you're nearby. He quite likes having a tall, 'intimidating' friend to scare off all the goody-two-shoes that seem to be drawn to him.

Upon hearing the rumours about you circulating, Scaramouche is furious. If there is no one there to stop him, he is throwing hands the moment someone says your name in a vaguely disparaging way. He'll puff his chest out and walk right up to them, growling at them to repeat what they said one more time. There's no doubt at all that he'd be ready to fight someone on your behalf and kick up a huge fuss. He’ll make a big scene and is probably more upset than you are by the whole debacle. He has his own signature way of comforting you if any of it gets you down that consists of him grumpily insisting that none of this should get to you and that you should ignore all the idiots.

Venti has no qualms about approaching and befriending you - he’s not one to judge based on appearances or outward attitudes. He’s very good at reading people and picking up on how they’re feeling, so from day one it feels like he understands you on a deeper level than most people do. He sort of hangs off of you in a way reminiscent of how birds linger around tall trees, and will use you as a springboard if he needs to get to something higher up, just grabbing you and pulling himself up easily. He’ll also ask you to carry things for him so often that it just becomes second nature for you to hold your hand out the moment it seems like he’s unsure of what to do with something he’s picked up.

Venti isn’t really one to police people on what they can and can’t say, but he just can’t stop himself when it comes to you. They’re so obviously wrong and just being mean for no reason that it makes him physically hurt if he doesn’t correct them. There’s just such a sense of wrongness that seems to claw at his chest and throat that even if he’s long since passed by he’ll do a 180 in the middle of the street to go talk to the people he heard. He’ll keep the tone of the confrontation pretty light and jokey, but to anyone who has known him for some time, it’s not hard to tell that he’s genuinely pretty upset on your behalf. He may get carried away and say some pretty coldhearted/downright cruel things to people (still in that same light and airy tone) if they continue to insist on spreading mean rumours.

Xiao is wary of anyone and everyone, so of course this includes you too. Your height and general demeanour mean nothing to him, he’s more focused on whether or not you’re an impending danger to him or anyone he cares about. He methodically observes you on and off for a while (sometimes you can catch glimpses of him following you, or perching on high places near your usual haunts to keep an eye on you), peeling away your tough outer layers until he’s able to get a look at the softness beneath. Once he’s deemed you to be of no threat, he drops it for a while and disappears back to his usual duties, but soon begins to notice that his days feel almost… empty, in a way. It doesn’t take him long to gravitate back towards you, but now he’s keeping a lookout for you, not because of you. It’s a little flattering, really, and he’s much like a bird in the way he may pick up things you’ve dropped or lost and leave them at your doorstep for you to find. He’s much too shy to approach on his own, but if you catch him on a good day, you might be able to exchange a few words, and he won’t immediately dismiss you if you come to visit him while he’s keeping watch off of his favourite balcony in Wangshu Inn.

Though Xiao doesn’t directly interact with humans unless the situation directly calls for it, sometimes he does listen in to their conversations, just so he has a good idea of the goings on in the areas he guards. If he happens to hear your name, he might just go out of his way to figure out why. With all of his observation of you, it doesn’t take him long before he figures out that they’re just spreading nonsense rumours. It’s not something he really takes into consideration as something that would be upsetting - he’s had plenty of rumours about him passed around. But the moment you express any discontent at people saying these things about you, any future offenders may just happen to find themselves in a rather… misfortunate situation the next time they’re wandering around the wilderness. Nothing lethal, of course, but enough to scare them out of their wits. Xiao isn’t very good at comforting people, and the most he can offer is his company and some reassurance that those people are wrong and that they likely have many more skeletons in their closet than you ever have or will.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites (without credit + permission).

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wish-incorrect-quotes · 5 months ago

Text

Camping Trip

Wrote this because I thought Simon could use some cheering up after the movie. Also, I thought it would be fun for the group to get a little "heigh-ho" moment marching through the forest.

Simon was quickly starting to realize just how much he had missed spending time in the great outdoors. After his last birthday, it had always felt like there was a heavy fog settled over him, and he couldn’t feel any desire to go out on a hike when even getting out of bed could feel daunting.

But now… he wasn’t sure he could say he felt “normal” again. At least, not yet. But he did feel better. With the familiar sensation of leaves crunching under his feet, a light breeze rustling his clothes, and the bright sunlight adding a pleasant warmth to the day, he had a sense of enjoying something that had been missing for a while.

Though as much as he was glad to be out here again, it wasn’t exactly the peaceful experience it usually was. But, of course, he hadn’t really expected it to be a quiet sort of day. Not with the group of friends who were trailing along behind him.

“Is this where you met the grizzly bear? Are we gonna meet a bear? Do bears give hugs? Is that why people call it ‘bear hugs’? If we meet a bear, can we-”

“How about we stick to watching the wildlife from a distance, okay?” Dahlia interrupted Dario’s curious line of questioning.

Asha, however, was busy trying to keep track of a certain pet who was not part of the local wildlife that belonged off in the distance.

“Valentino, stick with the group, remember?” She called out.

Her pajama-clad goat, already halfway through climbing a steep wall of rock, glanced down with a disappointed sigh.

“But it’s going so slowly.” He objected, though he still obediently made his way down and trotted back to Asha’s side.

“I know, but us people need to stay on the path. Not all of us can go climbing up cliffs the way a goat can.”

She scooped him into her arms and offered him a carrot stick from the pouch around her waist, which quickly had Valentino forgetting any desire to rush ahead.

“I don’t see why we have to walk all this way instead of just riding a wagon.” Gabo muttered, shifting the weight of the pack slung over his shoulder.

“The trail’s too narrow further up. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the top.” Dahlia reminded him. “Besides, I told you I already packed everything we’ll need. You’re the one who insisted on bringing a bunch of extra stuff.”

“Well excuse me if ‘roughing it’ isn’t my idea of a good time. I still say it’s crazy to go sleep out in the wilderness when there’s perfectly good buildings back in the city.”

“Just be grateful I packed a very nice picnic for everyone.” Dahlia replied. “A lot of people put in the effort to find their own food while they’re out here.”

“I’ve done that before.” Simon decided to chime in. “Just came out here with a fishing pole, and whatever I catch is dinner."

“I’m pretty sure we’d end up with someone scaring away all the fish if we tried that today.” He sent a pointed look at one of his friends trailing towards the back of the line.

As if on cue, the air suddenly rang out with a loud “AH-CHOO!” that echoed through the forest, and most likely had startled off a good amount of wildlife.

“Sorry. Pollen season.” Safi muttered sheepishly. He liked nature, he really did. He just wasn't so sure it liked him back.

While Bazeema paused to help him dig a few more handkerchiefs out of one of the bags, Hal’s face lit up with an idea.

“Hey guys, you know what we need?”

“Oh no.” Gabo groaned.

“Oh yes! Traveling music!”

“If anyone tries to make me sing, I swear I’m turning around and going home.”

“Alright, then you can whistle!”

The next thing they knew, Hal had cheerfully started up a surprisingly infectious tune. Though it did start off as whistling, it didn't take long before people started humming along, and then it unsurprisingly turned into singing after all. Gabo threw in a bit more grumbling under his breath, then decided he might as well put up with it. It would already be stuck in his head anyway. And while he hadn't planned to, he found himself absent-mindedly joining in after a few minutes.

Simon took a moment to glance at the group following behind him, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that everyone’s footsteps had instinctively fallen into the rhythm.

He didn't mind if it wasn't really a quiet and peaceful experience. Honestly, he'd rather have their chatter than be alone with his own thoughts right now. He wasn't sure if he even would have gone without them. And they had probably figured that out, too.

He knew that a lot of them didn’t tend to make up the most outdoorsy group, and he’d done his best to pick an easy trail that wouldn’t be difficult for them to manage. But even if he knew to expect a bit of complaining along the way (pretty much all of it from Gabo), it still made him feel warm inside to remember when he’d brought up the idea and everyone had agreed without any hesitation.

They had been worried about him, he knew that. And now that he finally felt ready to try getting back to something that had always cheered him up, they all wanted to be there for him. He really did have good friends. Better than he deserved, he briefly started to think. But he quickly shook the thought out of his head. Today was for letting himself have some happy thoughts.

Their path continued around a bend, then across a fallen tree acting as a bridge across a small ravine (it took quite a bit of encouragement to get Gabo feeling brave enough to cross it), and then it wasn’t much later before they could hear the sound of rushing water. And not long after, Dario was ecstatic to have located the source.

“Guys, there’s a WATERFALL!”

It was a rather picturesque sight, ribbons of water trailing into a little pool deep in the woods. And as he ran towards it, many of their friends following closely behind, Dahlia immediately knew it was much to late to get anyone to stop.

“At least take your shoes off if you’re going in!” She glanced over at Simon apologetically. “I hope we’re not throwing your schedule off.”

Simon shrugged good-naturedly. “We were probably about due for a break anyway.”

The point was for everyone to enjoy themselves, after all. And they certainly appeared to be having fun splashing around.

‐--------------------------------------------

Despite a few delays along the way, they reached the planned campsite with what should hopefully be plenty of daylight left to start setting up tents and getting a fire ready.

Despite being slightly out of practice, Simon had done this enough times that it didn't take him very long, so he began to wander through the group to see if anyone else needed help.

Despite Gabo's complaints about "roughing it," Bazeema had put together some rather comfortable looking sleeping bags, in everyone's favorite colors and patterns to boot. And once they had a campfire going, and the air was wafting with the smell of Dahlia expertly roasting their dinner, Simon would be surprised if anyone could manage to be in a bad mood.

And then, as the sky grew dark and last bits of red along the horizon disappeared, they were finally coming to the reason why they had selected tonight to come out here.

It started with one streak across the sky, then a few more, and before they knew it, the whole expanse above them was filled with the light of shooting stars.

"Oh, wow..."

With all of his friends lying on the ground around him to get a good look, Simon turned his head in the direction where he'd heard the breathless whisper, and saw Asha staring up in awe.

"It looks so beautiful out here."

"Do you think the one you met is up there?" Simon asked.

Asha's smile grew wider. "Absolutely. Star would never miss a chance to wave hello after we came all this way."

He leaned back again, his breath growing slow and relaxed as he tried to guess which one might be the wishing star Asha had brought into their lives.

As he'd learned, "sleepy" and "content" could be drastically different things. And tonight... he had a feeling he was going to sleep very contentedly.

#disney wish #wish 2023 #wish simon #wish dario #wish dahlia #wish asha #wish valentino #wish gabo #wish safi #wish bazeema #wish hal #wish fanfiction

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago

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I need to know how you keep track of all your OCs?! Do you have a spreadsheet?! A written list?! A super big brain that remembers everything?! And how do you keep coming up with such different and complex characters?! It's wild, it's amazing..

Hi,

I love this question! Thank you for asking it!

So now I actually have a spreadsheet because I jump around different fandoms, it’s ordered by TV Show. Everytime a personal detail comes up like perfume, history, it goes into the spreadsheet. When I first started writing I did not do this and it was a struggle to remember everything esp when I was writing for so many different fandoms.

With some characters I have their details more mentally ready than others. Like Gina and Travis, I know everything to do with them by heart. Same with Alden & Lisa. Dean A & Isobel. I think it’s because I’ve done so much work on them and their stories that I feel like I know them so well, even then they still throw in surprises. (Travis’s illness, Alden’s deceased child, Isobel’s cutting.) I didn’t plan for any of that. I think when you’re a character driven writer it allows more flexibility than if you’re a plot driven one because the characters take you on a journey where anything can happen. Plot driven writers are a lot more rigid in that respect.

So when I’ve developing a character, I think of the guy I’m writing for and what kind of partner he needs or could bounce off/ or what’s they’re core value/desire. Also if they have a partner in the show, I try to write someone very different otherwise what’s the point?

An example is Dean Winchester lives a very transient, almost secretive lifestyle due to the nature of his work. He doesn’t stick around in one place for too long and is very committed to his cause and is resistant to relationships but happy to have casual engagements. However there instances in the series we see him playing house/talking about a normal life almost wistfully. At his core he wants a home but in his own head can never have that.

The kind of partner I envisioned working for him was someone very independent, who had their own life so Dean could flit in and out of it without feeling the pressure or issues that came with being in a traditional relationship. I wanted the character to have awareness of the supernatural shit but I also didn’t want to go the another hunter route as I’d seen it done so many times and I found it boring because it’s basically the Winchester Boys +1, and it comes back to that thing about being independent.

Also I had a massive thing for Fire Towers at the time so it gave me the idea for a forest ranger who situated in this little town at the edge of a mountain/forest reserve and has to deal with all the mad normal/supernatural shit that lives in the forest. This allows Dean a place to always come back to if he wants to, a home as it were. It also gave me a little history for them. They met because they were both ‘hunting’ the same thing, collaborated and then with all that left over adrenaline sparks fly. As the town is a tourist town Harlow is used to people just ‘passing through’ so most of her relationships have been transient so she doesn’t expect anything from Dean, despite the fact he keeps coming back. Also because her family are from along line of ‘forest rangers’ who have an affiliation with the mountain, they both things in common in terms of an irregular upbringing.

The nature of the transient relationship also adds drama esp with Dean wrestling with wanting more but not being able to give. It’s an internal battle for him when he starts to develop feelings. It gives you a lot to work with outside of the usual monster of the day plot (which is also great for drama).

All of It sort of plays off something I call cause and effect and this is what a lot of fics/characters lack in fan fiction. If you say a character does a job like an ADA or a cop, you have to think of what got them there to where they are today and how that shaped them and the choices they made because of it and also what’s going on in the current climate for a person in that position.

For example female cops really run a gauntlet in terms of sexism and misogyny. From the people they police and sometimes their coworkers. At some point in their career they are going to encounter it, so how do they handle it? Are they dealing with it now in they’re current unit? Or have they in the past? Has that created enemies? What does did it look like? Was it make the tea hun? ‘Accidental’ groping or something worse.

That’s just one job, what about ADA or a winemaker or doctor? What challenges have they faced. It’s different for every position.

It’s the same if you say someone is dyslexic or comes from foster care, you have to think how those things have shaped they’re lives, how does it affect them today, how are you going to let the audience know in a natural way. A dyslexic person, may use colour coding to help them identify files quickly, they may voice record as opposed to write notes. Someone whose had an injury in the past is probably going to have some residual pain, so they may use a cushion, be stiff when it gets cold, or pop pain killers. It’s those extra details that add to a character and define them from anything else other people are writing.

Sorry I realise I had a massive ramble there but I get massively enthused when it comes to qs like this!

#writing #writers #writing qs #writer tips #writing tips #writing advice

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narrators-journal · 20 days ago

Text

A moment of normal

Bit by bit, I’m working my way up to the novella level lmao, and! I’m getting back into the swing of character exploration! This time, for some Trigun content. Me and the boyfriend have been roleplaying through it, and I’ve got a couple of thoughts. Dunno if I’ll write them down? But, we’ll see. Only god knows where my interest will take me next right now. For now! Just enjoy, and I hope this amuses you all, and that I’m not too far out of character with anyone.

“So, how have you two been?” Meryl asked as she and Millie bounced across the sand on a pair of Toma, the humanoid typhoon walking beside her. “Oh, we’ve been fine.” Vash hummed, “Nai actually managed to spend the night at an inn about a week ago with no casualties, so that’s progress.” “Oh, good to hear.” the insurance girl hummed, before a heavy silence filled the air between them to drag the conversation down into the sand. So, for a bit, the four people let the silence remain. Vash, though usually a chatterbox to some extent, quiet as he walked with his hands in the pockets of his long red coat. On his other side, a leech-like humanoid silently kept pace with him. And, the platinum-blonde man within the pale coat made no move to do anything but produce a miasma of hateful intentions that the small woman could tell was aimed at the two women who’d joined them.

And, while Meryl wanted to try and break the tension, somehow return to the easy air that the group had before...well, before July. But, some part of her knew she couldn’t simply ignore the changes. It had been two years, after all, Roberto was gone, Meryl was no longer ‘Newbie’ to anyone she worked with and in fact had a ‘Newbie’ of her own. And, of course, she wasn’t the only one to change, Vash had too.

For starters, he was shorter than he used to be. When they’d originally met, the humanoid typhoon had been 6’3 thanks to all of the years he’d spent running around in the desert with the lizards and worms, but for some reason, Vash was now Knives’ height. As if he’d wilted in the two years they’d been apart. Though, his height wasn’t the only thing that had changed about the man, because aside from being a bit shorter, Vash’s sunflower-yellow hair was now a nearly ebony shade of brown with only a streak of that golden color mixed into it. I guess he dyed it to be less recognizable? Meryl mused as she watched Vash share silent looks with the leech beside him. Or maybe Knives did something to him? Or is this normal for independants?

Meryl felt the questions drop into her chest like a bunch of bricks, but she couldn’t seem to make herself ask them. He’d probably answer, right? Vash doesn’t have a lot of secrets, I mean, he admitted to being Knives’ brother on the first day, and surely this isn’t anything that level of bad, right? Yet, as if the brunette beside her could hear her thoughts begin to zip, Millie finally broke the silence. “Oh! Meryl, I think I see an Oasis! Could we stop by it for a break?” She asked, a distant silhouette of plant life pointed out in the wiggly air. Her words and the question able to drag the blue-haired woman out of her thoughts. “Huh, well, I don’t see why not. It would be nice to take a break from the saddle.”

As if her agreement was some checkered flag, Meryl suddenly saw Vash and his brother haring off across the pale dunes of sand without warning. “I suppose that means they both agree with the idea.” Millie hummed without a care in her words and a smile spread onto her face. And, before the shorter woman could try to formulate her confusion, she encouraged her Tomas into a run in an attempt to catch up with the brother.

So, Meryl let slip a few curses before she followed after them all. Only able to watch Vash pull ahead of his brother with a maniacal laugh from a distance since they were far faster than their Toma. And, even with the July event still on her mind whenever she looked at him, Meryl found that she couldn’t help but smile when she watched Knives curse his brother’s bloodline for his speed, and the red-clad man throw himself down a dune to roll like some rollie pollie bowling ball.

“The hell type of move is that?! That’s cheating!” Knives claimed, too proud to try it himself, so he slid and stumbled his way down that same dune while Millie and Meryl halted their Toma at the top. The girls simply watched as Vash uncurled and slid to a halt before he rolled into the small pool of water. “It’s called a roll, you should give it a- oof!” whatever taunt the man had for his sibling was cut off when Knives planted both of his feet into him and bulled him into the water. “Fuck you! You’re my baby brother, you lose in competitions, Vash!” “It’s not my fault you’re sl-” Vash was cut off by a vengeful hand that shoved him below the surface of the pool. “Should we stop them?” Millie asked while her and the blue-haired insurance worker watched Knives shove Vash’s head beneath the oasis’ cool water. “Not gonna lie, Millie. I don’t even think we should be this close to them while they fight.” She admitted, though she made no move to put distance between herself and the brothers. She and Millie instead simply sat on their steeds as they watched the brothers fight.

And...for the moment, Meryl felt as if, just maybe, things were normal. Even just for the time it took for Knives to wrestle Vash into the sand and feed it to him as some revenge for surpassing him.

#trigun #trigun stampede #scenario #no ships here #character moment ig?#Vash the stampede #Millions knives #trigun 98 #meryl stryfe #milly thompson

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illfoandillfie · 2 years ago

Text

Underground

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Words: 769

Warnings: Ben is poor tired baby, meet cute.

A/N: Wrote this in a frenzy by hand when the internet was out. I think someone requested a Ben meet cute on a train one of the last times I took prompts and I guess I was thinking about it again and wrote this lmao. Also, please do not tell me if the train stations I chose make so sense I live in Australia, I’ve never been to the UK, I had to google a London Underground map and hope for the best.

You had no idea what to do. As far as you were aware there wasn’t really a guide for how to handle someone using you as a pillow in public. And a stranger at that. You’d done the normal thing when he’d approached the seat beside you. Avoided eye contact, focused entirely on your phone. Well, maybe not entirely. You had snuck a small glance at him, subtly of course. But you were single! No one could blame you for checking out a random guy on the train. You knew people who’d met on public transport and ended up married, as unlikely as it sounded. What if he ended up regularly getting the same train? Maybe it could turn into a thing like it did in movies. And he had been very handsome from the quick glimpse you got, if a little tired looking. You wouldn’t have minded any sort of a thing happening with him. Except then the handsome stranger had nodded off, right on your shoulder. What the fuck were you meant to do with that?

After a few panicked beats where you hoped he’d catch himself and sit up and you could pretend it had never happened, you glanced around for some help but your fellow passengers were doing an admiringly good job at pretending not to be looking. They were all probably just relieved it wasn’t happening to them. You tried giving the poor man a nudge, shifting your shoulder under his weight, anything to dislodge him if not wake him. But, either he was too asleep or you weren’t forceful enough because it did nothing. Surreptitiously poking his thigh didn’t work, nor did you have any success when you tried clearing your throat. But that was about all you could think to do without making a scene and making a scene was the last thing you wanted. Truth be told, you also felt a little bad for him. He must have been quite exhausted to fall asleep like that. So, partly out of kindness and partly out of sheer awkwardness, you resigned yourself to your fate and let him sleep, just hoping he’d wake before the train got to your stop. You didn’t really know what you’d do if he didn’t.

He was out for longer than you’d have liked but thankfully not so long you had to face the quandy of getting off the train. He woke with a start at a particularly forceful jolt of the train and for a moment you both just blinked at each other.

“Sorry,” he finally said, still seeming a little groggy. As his wits came back to him you could see the realisation of where he was and what had happened dawn on him. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” you said blushing. It was an awkward conversation anyway, your instincts telling you to pretend it had never happened. And now you could properly see him you were seeing just how pretty he was.

“I swear I don’t make a habit of falling asleep on strangers.” He made an attempt at a laugh and you tried to reciprocate but everything was so bizarre and awkward.

“Uh, long day then?” You didn’t know how to get out of the situation without a polite conversation.

“Yeah, just a bit. Wait.” he peered around, “Where are we?”

“Ummm, I think we just left Park Royal.”

“Fuck,” he sighed.”

“Where were you meant to get off?”

“South Kensington.”

You cringed when you realised how far he’d gone past his stop.

“Oh well,” he was blushing too by then and rubbed the back of his neck, “guess I’ll just have to get off next and head back.”

He had a solution. He didn’t need any help from you. And yet you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I’m getting off at the next stop. I was going to grab some tea on my way home. You could join me if you wanted. I mean, unless you have to get back to Kensington urgently.”

He considered you for a moment but as the conductor announced the next station he seemed to make up his mind, “That sounds great actually. I’m honestly starving.”

You tried to hide your laugh as you stood up, making your way to the door, able to feel him following you.

Both of you joined the throng leaving the carriage, stepping out onto the platform.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” you said as you walked along the platform, still a little in disbelief about your commute.

“Ben,” he said, holding out his hand and flashing you a smile.

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #q

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