#and i try to force myself to buy like. a small nice thing for myself every once in a while i buy 1 coffee and 1 breakfast food every week

[nomaishuttle]

its also like . ok sry im going on bc im tired and ive upset myself lol but its like. to have somebody who knows i grew up in poverty call me greedy and selfish bc he pressured me into moving up here when i didnt have the money so i Had to rely on him financially. and then i couldnt pay him back while i was literally unemployed. to have him call me greedy and selfish and entitled and lazy was. insanely upsetting

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons

MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Soft headcanons:

Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.

Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.

"That one's real cute, baby."

"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."

"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."

He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.

Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...

"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.

"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.

"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.

"Shut up."

Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.

Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.

"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.

"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.

They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.

Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.

"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"

Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.

"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.

His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.

"North West? That's a fucking direction."

Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.

"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.

"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."

"I love you so much. More than anything."

Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.

Hope you enjoyed! xoxo

[archiveikemen]

"Come Play With Us, Miss Fairytale Keeper" Story Event: Chapter 2

Alfons Sylvatica VS Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Alfons: Kate, say “ahh”.

Kate: Mm… this grape is delicious!

Ring: … What’s this you’ve been doing since just now? 

Alfons: It’s necessary to blend in if we want to gather information on our target.

Alfons: For that, I’m playing the role of a lovesick man trying to seduce Kate. 

Ring: Aren’t you just feeding her grapes?

Alfons: My, my… you won’t be saying that for long. 

Alfons: My fingers are dirty now… you’ll clean them for me, right, Kate? 

Kate: eh… 

The instant I parted my lips and let out a small confused sound, Alfons pushed his fingers into my mouth.

He moved his fingers in and out, tracing my tongue and rubbing the roof of my mouth.��

Kate: Nn…a��� mmph…!

Alfons: Yes, yes, just like that… you’re so cute, sucking and licking so eagerly. 

Alfons: … Makes me want to put something other than my fingers into that little mouth of yours and make you moan. 

Kate: Nn~~!

Alfons: Even if you resist, right now you’ll only sound like you’re making erotic noises. Fufu… 

Alfons: You see, you’ll look suspicious if you resist too much. 

Alfons: Ah, ah, you’re making such a pleased face… really, you can’t do this without me. 

Being forced to lick his fingers and having my mouth messed with made it slightly hard to breathe.

And yet… I was frustrated at myself for feeling a little bit of pleasure from it. 

Alfons: Thank you for showing me that lewd expression. 

Alfons let out a delighted laugh before pulling his fingers out of my mouth.

Kate: Please don’t do such weird things all of a sudden!

Alfons: I couldn't help it. I’m just a pitiful man approaching you desperately for your love. 

Alfons: Besides, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? 

Kate: T-that’s… 

Seeing that I couldn't deny it, Alfons smiled with satisfaction.

Alfons: Next is Ring’s turn.

Ring: … I know.

Ring nodded with a solemn look on his face and looked at me—  

Kate: Mmph…! 

Suddenly, he started vigorously wiping my mouth with his sleeve. 

(Come to think of it, my mouth was all sticky from the grape juice and saliva…) 

Feeling sorry about it, I let him continue; but I then realised how close we were.

Ring: Mm… a little more…

Whenever our eyes met, he would usually awkwardly avert his gaze or glare warily at me.

But right now, his cobalt blue eyes stared straight into mine, the intensity of his gaze taking my breath away.

(If he were to look at someone so earnestly and come this close…)

(I bet many people would fall for him.) 

Ring: That should do it. 

Kate: T-thank you. … Sorry for being so dirty.

Ring; No, you’re not dirty. Not at all.

Ring: Actually… I’m the one who should apologise, for touching you without permission. 

Ring: It’s just, your face after Alfons seduced you… it was too um— 

Kate: …?? 

Alfons: It was too lewd and so you’re worried that other men would see it, isn’t that right? 

Ring: … A-anyway! All that matters is that you can be at ease now. 

(He wiped my mouth to protect me… I’m glad.) 

Alfons: That was a nice move. I’d say Ring will get one point for it. 

Ring: Huh…? … I haven't seduced her, though. 

Alfons: Did you do that naturally? Impressive, as expected from someone with a lot of experience. 

Ring: Ah, yeah… t-this is nothing. 

(... Alfons and Ring are two completely different types of people.) 

Insolent and innocent — time passed as I continued being caught between their different attitudes. 

Alfons: Oh? … One of our targets has arrived.

Following Alfons’ gaze, I spotted a man delightedly helping himself to some light snacks. 

(It’s the same person I saw in the documents. He’s a doctor to the public eye, but secretly involved in trafficking illegal drugs…) 

Ring: … I don’t see his partner nearby. 

Alfons: They might have agreed to only meet right before heading to their room. They’re very cautious. 

Ring: … I’ll go spy on that man.

Alfons: So you’re trying to put a gap between you and I by taking the lead? 

Ring: Of course. I can’t stand watching Kate as you make moves on her. 

Ring: I’ll put an end to this competition quickly. 

Ring left his spot and approached the man. 

Ring: There’s something I want to ask you.

Male Doctor: Hm? If I’m not mistaken… you’re from that trio. Two men competing over one woman, right? Ahh, youth. 

Ring: Yeah. You see… I’m on the verge of losing to my rival. 

Ring: I want to choose the best private room in this mansion to gain an edge over him. 

Ring: You’re a regular here, right? Could you tell me if there’s any room you particularly like to use? 

(He went straight to the point…) 

I got nervous, but the man didn't seem to suspect a thing because of Ring’s confidence.

Male Doctor: I usually let my partner choose a room, so I’m not really sure myself. 

Ring: I see… sorry for taking up your time.

Ring returned to his spot after speaking with our target. 

Ring: … It didn't work. 

Alfons: But you did manage to gain new information. Your straightforward approach was commendable. 

Ring: … What do we do next? We haven't identified his partner.

Alfons: That’s true, however… I’ve already spotted his lady companion. 

Ring: When did you…? 

Partners don’t usually stray too far from each other at parties, but since the people here have illicit relationships, many of them act separately from their partners.

(How did he identify her out of all the women here?) 

Alfons: The reason is simple. The man from a while ago was wearing a bracelet, right?

Ring: … Was he?

Alfons: That bracelet comes from a set. If you connect the two bracelets together, they'll become a necklace.

Kate: Amazing… you even noticed that.

Alfons: I know about it because the beautiful design is highly praised. All thanks to Lord Elbie. 

Alfons: And there’s someone else in this venue wearing the same bracelet.

Ring: …! That lady hiding behind the pillar.

(She really is wearing the same bracelet!) 

Alfons: Let me quickly obtain the information we need.

Alfons left his spot, approached the woman, and… gently touched the nape of her neck. 

He used his curse’s ability to alter the woman’s perception and coaxed the location of the room out of her. 

Alfons: I’m back. Apparently, their room is named “Rose” and located on the second floor. 

Kate: That was amazing, Alfons! 

Alfons: I’m honoured to receive your praise. With that, I gain one point too and become tied with Ring.

Alfons: Now, we’re approaching the final stage of our mission.

Alfons: Kate… between Ring and myself, who will you choose as your lover?

[fanfics4all]

Stupid Fight

Request: Yes / No This is based on this post that I saw a little bit ago from @hereforhalstead

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 487

Warnings: Mentions of a fight, but its just fluff! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The couch creaked beneath me as I shifted for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to find some semblance of comfort. The argument with Spencer replayed over and over in my head, the details blurring together into a mess of stubborn words and wounded pride. I knew it was something trivial, but here I was, lying alone on the couch in the middle of the night refusing to budge. 

Spencer’s silence from the bedroom was haunting and I wondered if he was doing the same thing I was, lying there staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the emptiness beside him. Normally, he’s right here, curled around me, his hand resting on my waist and breathing softly against my neck. But tonight, both of us were too stubborn to give in. 

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to settle, but every noise in the quiet room seemed louder and every shadow somehow colder. The minutes crawled by, each one stretching longer than the last. I hated this distance, the silence that had settled between us. But I wasn’t about to be the first one to break, not tonight. 

Just as I started drifting off, I felt the couch dip beside me, and a familiar warmth settled close. My heart skipped as Spencer slid beside me, one arm slipping around my waist as he pulled me close. I felt his fingers trace gentle patterns along my arm and I closed my eyes, sinking into the comfort of his touch. 

“Spencer…” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. But before I could say anything else, he nudged my head gently, guiding it into the crook of his neck. His chin rested lightly on top of my head and I let out a soft breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him. My heart softened, and all the tension slipped away as I relaxed against him. 

“We can go back to arguing in the morning.” He whispered, his words gentle but filled with something deeper. 

“But I can’t take another second without you next to me.” I closed my eyes, the fight within me softening as his fingers continued tracing soothing patterns on my arm. I knew at that moment, that the argument didn’t matter. Not when he was here, holding me as though I was his entire world. I could feel his heartbeat steady and calm, lulling me into a warmth I could never find alone. 

I wrapped my arm around him, burring myself closer and breathing in his scent. The silence wasn’t cold or stained anymore… it was peaceful, a promise that no argument, no matter how big or small, could keep us apart for long. And as I drifted off in his arms, I knew that in the morning we’d talk, we’d apologize, and we’d make things right. Because with Spencer, I’d never be alone, never be without this warmth and love that anchored us both.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101  @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl

[derekhighwaytf]

InstaCub

I loved the Cha Cha Room.  It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation.  Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however.  The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me.  Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty.  I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.

My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.

But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take.  Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises.  And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.

"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked.  I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk.  Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink.  "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.

As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends.  However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it.  A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it?  No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."

“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly.  “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.  Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls.  I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.

“I must be in the wrong place.  I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door.  But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do.  I think you fit in perfectly.”

Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation.   I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.

Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.

And then I farted.

Pffffffft.

I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.

I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me.  This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time

As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock.  So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.

I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…

Pffffffffft.

[lemonhemlock]

what are they doiiiing, man

The more I believed I wasn't a book puritist, the more this show is trying to make me one because what are they doing?

Everything is inconsistent from episode to episodo and from season to season, like they're not even trying to make it believable

The only good thing is fr Daemon plot and this does shock me because I wouldn't have believed it before lol

And they're kind of making me feel angry about the green (alicent the most, because what are you doiiing? Not even on a book!alicent point, but from the same shows, she is always something different and it's humiliating really)

Idk, i try to take all with a light heart but... it's still able to make me quite mad

And sorry for all the typos and errors, I'm in a rush dhsjal

i mean it's a really disappointing season

i've said it before in my critiques, we can argue all day about characterisation (maybe some actually see aemond as an emotionless psycho, maybe some actually buy that alicent would sell out her own sons for rhaenyra), but there is little to no buildup for these HUGE changes and they don't even make sense in the context of the story. the greens are so, so emotionally flat and one-note melancholy with stunted dynamics. if they don't give a shit about each other, why and even HOW could the audience? where is the tragedy? ok, you want to make those changes from the books and create completely different versions of these characters: you have to make me believe it, man. you have to put in the work.

but these writers don't even understand the politics of the world they are inhabiting. they're not fixing any plot holes from the books, they're creating more. how the heck is house hightower JUST fine with having TWO members of their family dismissed in quick succession from the small council? who is financing this war? uncle hobert should be writing angry letters to aemond demanding appropriate reparations or else the hightower armies go back to oldtown. if they are not going to advance their own interests further as a house, why are they fighting this pointless war? tyland lannister should have given aemond some lip back for his attitude since house lannister has resources (i.e. armies, ships and gold) that aemond needs. these people have power! we've already seen the riverlords take no shit from daemon and he has a dragon too!

i've said this already to our dear @stannisfactions, so i'm gonna repeat myself here, but if alicent somehow became convinced that aemond was so off the rails he was going to get helaena killed................ there are ways around that that DON'T involve selling out your entire family to rhaenyra (certainly your male relatives, even the ones who didn't do a damn thing to you, like your brother, your uncle, your cousins, YOUR OTHER SON (THE NICE ONE), who are only following YOUR lead at the end of the day, because YOU put aegon on the throne and told them to mobilize forces and declare for him and now rhaenyra will see them all as traitors.

has everyone forgotten how to stage a castle coup? i know vhagar is big and scary, but she's parked way outside KL and aemond is just one man who was NOT shown to hustle for his own connections and personal network of friends. smack him in the damn head and throw his ass in jail!! tell everyone else the now-conscious KING aegon told you to! alicent was ruling queen for many years, it makes no sense for her not to have her own resources and courtiers who could help her do this.

can you imagine joffrey baratheon, surrounded by lannister guards loyal to and paid by tywin lannister, whose war is financed by the lannisters, dismissing tywin or cersei (or even tyrion) from his small council? are you laughing yet? why doesn't alicent have her own private army of hightower guards loyal to HER? unless you want (and need) her to be the stupidest person alive so that you can write your rhaenicent fanfic 🤌

they want to humiliate alicent so much to „punish” her for ~choosing the patriarchy~ instead of her bff rhaenyra and girl power. it's such an overdone storyline. other shows, books, media have done it to death, why is it in my dragon show, too? she can't have been a competent regent for viserys and not know how to do these things or not have acquired the resources to do them if necessary. how can she be both competent and incompetent when the plot requires it? it's giving wanting to still have the cake after eating it and throwing it into outer space

[kueble]

I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You

Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.

Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.

Ghost/Soap

---

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..

“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.

“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.

“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.

“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.

“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.

Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.

If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.

“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.

“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.

“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.

“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.

“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.

“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.

“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.

“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.

“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.

—

The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.

“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.

“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”

“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.

“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”

“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.

Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.

It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.

“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.

“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.

—

He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.

To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.

Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.

“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.

“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.

“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.

He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.

When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.

“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.

“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.

“Never even met me.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.

“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.

“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.

“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.

—

There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.

They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.

“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.

“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.

“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.

But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.

“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.

“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”

“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.

“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”

“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”

He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.

“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”

Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”

He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.

“The men involved?” he asks quietly.

“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.

“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.

“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.

“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.

“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”

He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.

If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.

He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.

The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”

—

Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.

He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.

They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.

After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.

“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.

“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.

“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.

“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”

“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.

“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.

“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.

“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.

“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.

“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.

But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.

“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.

“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.

“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.

“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.

“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.

“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.

“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.

And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”

“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.

“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.

“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.

“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.

“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.

And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.

Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.

“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.

And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.

[astrangetorpedo]

On New Year’s Eve, during a house party at her home in Richmond, Virginia, Lucy Dacus had her fortune told. She thought why not. On a personal level, 2017 had been a wretched year – a steady conveyor belt delivering the 22-year-old bad news.

“This girl, who I didn’t even know, came to the party and gave me this year-long reading,” she explains. “Month-by-month it was so specific. So far, it’s kind of lined up.”

In the past Dacus has been sceptical about the prophetic powers of the tarot card deck, and was taught that the pentacles (coins) were a symbol of Satan. “It’s hard to look to the future and see nothing, to know nothing,” she muses. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen, but having something to have your mind bounce off is nice. That’s why I like tarot. It gives you something to reflect on.”

It’s all part of a fresh way of thinking for Dacus, a new “mood of just trying to be open to new things.” For so many reasons the past year has been one Lucy Dacus is keen to put behind her. “I guess I could just list things,” she says laughing, but not joking. To begin, some of her close family suffered health problems, compounded by her own serious issues including a bout of appendicitis that forced her to have surgery. She was attempting to buy a house for the first time, a process that proved “trying”. Three of her tours got cancelled.

“It was a little bit miserable,” says Dacus, sitting in an east London cafe. “Towards the end of the year, I just had to laugh… Like, come on!”

Interwoven with these practical challenges she was having to navigate something much more troubling. “I got out of a relationship in 2016, which I was waking up from in 2017 – realising that it was abusive,” she begins. “Letting myself say that, it took many months to come out of the numbness… to stop being brainwashed. So, that’s all been a growth. It’s ended up being positive, but it is difficult wondering how I let that be a part of my life for so long.”

Deepening the ordeal, still, this year of personal upheaval was set to the backdrop of Trump’s first 12 months in office. A vociferous supporter of Bernie Sanders through the 2016 election campaign, Dacus is a passionate advocate for equal rights, attending marches and collecting donations for community organisations at her shows. To have Trump sat in the White House representing her country, she says, felt – feels – “horrible”. “It’s just absurd and I feel like I’m in an alternate universe,” she says. “It’s really hard maintaining hope.

“Coming to Europe I’m embarrassed to be an American sometimes, but then I just have to hope that people know that I am not part of Trump. I’ve thought about wearing shirts at the airport – just like ‘not my president’. In little ways I just want to assert that opinion.”

And then there were the disturbing revelations surrounding Harvey Weinstein (and subsequently many other men) revealed in Autumn 2017, that opened out into a global conversation around the abuse and harassment of women.

“It’s been nice coming out of that really terrible relationship during a time when women are speaking up more. It feels like I’m allowed to say these things now,” says Dacus, crediting the #MeToo movement. “All these horrible, heartbreaking stories of women being mistreated are at the forefront but the solace that people are doing what they need in order to find closure and help each other prevent that happening ever again. For one of the first times I’ve been noticing male friends of mine actually examining their past behaviours.”

While there are some early shoots of positivity, the truth is, the culmination of all of these factors left the songwriter dealing with anxiety for the first time. “2017 was a new state of mind for me – and not really in the best way.”

Lucy Dacus was raised in Richmond, Virginia, about two hours south of Washington D.C. on the east coast. It’s a place sometimes described as “the biggest small town left in America.” The family home was in the rural suburbs and she travelled into the city to go to high school. “It’s hard to tell you in one answer how my whole childhood was,” she says. “It’s a large variety of things. Overall, I’m coming out with my thumbs up.”

In her household music was always there. Her mother is a piano teacher, as was her grandmother. Picking up songwriting was never a big deal, like a second language that was spoken around the house. “That’s how music is – like, it’s just part of my life,” she recalls.

Yet the dream of being a professional artist seemed almost so unattainable that it was invisible. In her late teens, Dacus went to college to study film but dropped out, primarily because she’d end up saddled with huge debt. “That, paired with the feeling of being misunderstood in my programme,” she confirms. “I just didn’t have a lot of like minds in my classes.”

That prompted a move back to Virginia where she took a job in a photography lab developing kids’ cheesy school photos. She’d been writing songs in her spare time and gathered nine of the 30-or-so she had together when her friend Jacob Blizard (now her touring guitarist) asked her to record them for his school project. Her 2016 debut album, ‘No Burden’, was made in one day in Nashville. Blizard passed school, and that album received rave reviews. NPR called it “vulnerable”, while Pitchfork said it was an “uncommonly warm indie rock record”. As a result, 20 different record labels reportedly scrabbled to sign Dacus. She settled on Matador, and began to prepare for what should have been a joyful 2017.

The first time Dacus remembers assuming the role of historian she was seven or eight-years-old. She was writing in her journal – and she smiles now recalling her first entry. It complained about how the babysitter spent the whole evening on the phone to her boyfriend. “There’s a point where I realise I’m journaling and so I stop and go, ‘I should probably introduce myself… I’m Lucy’” she laughs, remembering it clearly. “It’s really cute.”

More than a dozen notebooks, and many years later, she still keeps a diary now. Sometimes she writes every day, other times, weeks go by and then she fills 20 pages. Occasionally she flicks open an old one to either “laugh or cringe” at her younger self.

‘Historian’, then, isn’t just the title of her latest album, but also the way she thinks of herself. A chronicler, of her own experiences, but also those around her. Those pages aren’t just a document of a growing maturity, but also a therapeutic habit that helps make sense of many life events, including that recent damaging relationship. “Seeing that it had been broken for the whole time but that I was just oblivious to it, [reading about] it helps to accept that things didn’t change,” she says. “I just saw it for what it was finally, and so perspective is good.”

Those handwritten journals are sacred, which is why, when her tenth one was stolen on tour a few years ago along with a bag of possessions, it was the notebook she replaced first.

The album itself is a recent history – a narrative burrowing through those myriad dark times. Dacus knew that she wanted it to form a complete story, and wrote the track list before some of the songs. “It’s an arc” she says, that begins in a “relatable place” with the only break-up song she’s ever written (‘Night Shift’) that subsequently delves “deeper into darkness.”

“Then the subject matter gets a little more intense,” she tells me, ���– going through identity crises, or loss of home, or loss of faith, loss of a loved one, loss of your life. I feel like I’m pulling people into an uncomfortable space.” She pauses. “There’s then a change where hopefully I’m turning on a light and saying, ‘Yes, all of that exists, but it’s a foil to joy.’”

It is an extraordinary piece of work. Musically it’s a colossal step up, reminiscent of recent albums by Mitski (‘Puberty 2’), Angel Olsen (‘My Woman’) and labelmate Julien Baker (‘Turn out the Lights’). The subject matter is heavy, but it’s never a dreary listen. In fact, it’s charming, funny even – like a brave smile emerging through a curtain of tears. And Dacus has a gift for lyric writing; like the eloquent way she pays tribute to the humility shown by her dying grandmother on ‘Pillar of Truth’. From first to final note it’s evocative and powerful. “The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit I had a coughing fit,” goes the LP’s opening line in ‘Night Shift’. “If past you were to meet future me,” she sings on the final line of the closing title track, “would you be holding me now?”

It’s heartening to hear that the contents of Dacus’ NYE tarot reading were largely positive. The forecast noted that she should enjoy the proceeds of her hard work, but that “something horrible happens in the summer, then there’s kind of a rebirth, growing back into, like, life in an even more knowledgeable and peace-oriented way.” Dacus is about to leave, and picks up a bag of books she’s been keeping underneath the cafe table.

“It could be wrong,” she says. “I’m not superstitious. I’m taking it in. When that does happen I hope I can take my own advice – let it be what it is, and look past it eventually

(x) 3/14/18

[pinkcherryblossomphonecase]

To feel pretty

(Some Cooper fluff to give him a break. This one is for youuuuu, Ashton mod)

(The peeps I tag: @oscarsgallery @kijimha @city-of-c0rpses @lets-play-a-game @fyyodor-d @myluckymoon )

After such a sleepless night, I forced myself out of the hotel room as quickly to get the day over with. Wasn't in the mood to do anything, nothing is really fun when you're alone, except for cherry blossom gazing. Other than that there wasn't much to do. I guess the only option was to tour around the city and find something to do.

Yokohama seemed busy today with people bustling by or heading off to work. I took my time gazing at very shop I passed by. Maybe a few luxury and treat yourself items wouldn't hurt to buy or gaze at. The beauty makeup store caught my eye, their advertisement for lipsticks had me interested. So many pretty different shades. It wouldn't hurt to try some.

I go inside and the workers were so nice, they greeted me in and asked if I was looking for anything in particular. They helped find me a pretty red shade of lipstick that wasn't too bright but perfect enough for me to wear. They were so helpful, they even showed me how to apply it on right.

I headed out with my new purchase, wondering what types of outfits would go with this shade. While strolling around, lost in thought, I come to a hault as I see a gorgeous dress on the display can of a small business. I had to go inside and ask the owner of the dress was up for sale. Thankfully it was, but I was disappointed at first when it didn't fit me.

Until a kind worker offered a similar dress that was just as pretty, if not more, than the other dress. It had my size as well! They were so kind once I rang up my purchase. They even gave me a free hat because I spent more than 50 bucks there or something. The hat went well with my outfit too.

After purchase I immediately changed into my new outfit, along with the hat and applying the lipstick. I spun around the mirror and gazed at myself in awe. I looked so pretty. I felt so pretty. I was feeling high and confident in myself. After all I rocked this outfit well and everyone knew it.

Some pass byers complimented me or said I looked pretty. And the girl I like at the instruments shop thought I looked pretty as well! It meant a lot to me when she said that. I felt like I could walk with confidence all day.

I guess today wasn't so bad after all. I even got to gaze at the cherry blossoms today. Maybe treating myself was a good thing today. I felt amazing, it made me sleep better at night.

[the-fiction-witch]

Hotel Room

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n y/l/n Rating - 17 + Word Count - 1350

Benny finished up with the Vegas tournament for that year, the press dealt with his winnings collected from the organizers so he headed to the hotel bar for a beer to celebrate. After a while of him sitting at the bar nursing his blue ribbon beer, a girl sits down beside him. At first, he didn’t think much of it but he absentmindedly glanced over when he heard her voice, and his jaw hit the floor.

She was wearing a pair of black platform heels, black sheer thigh high stockings, white petticoats under a black shimmery knee high dress with a off the shoulder top, she had a silver locket around her neck, a silver watch on her wrist, and a impressive ring on her little finger, She had bouncy hair curled up like Marilyn Monroe, with the make up to match it the look. She set her small white handbag on the bar and ordered a drink, "Vodka cranberry, save on the ice" she ordered from the barman

Benny's gaze lingered on the girl, his eyes scanning every inch of her figure before finally focusing on her face. A slow smile spread across his lips, “Looks like someone's celebrating too,” he said, his voice low and smooth, drawing out the last word into a husky purr.

she scoffed a little at his attempts to strike a conversation with her "I suppose I am." She answered not making eye contact as she waits for her drink

Benny chuckled and took another sip of his beer. His eyes roamed over her profile, drinking in the delicate curve of her and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her skin as she gazed away. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “You know, I'm not just any ordinary guy who tries to strike up conversations with beautiful women. I'm Benny Watts, the greatest chess player this side of the Mississippi.”

she got her drink and paid before sitting her bag on the back of the chair "My, my, Benny Watts. Aren't I a Lucky girl?" She joked, "I take it you’re here for that big chess thing going on in the conference rooms?"

Benny's smile grew wider. He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he replied, “The Vegas Open, yeah. I'm defending my title. But I have to say, I'd much rather be talking about something else with you.” His gaze drifted down to her throat, where the silver locket glinted in the dim light of the bar. “What brings a lovely woman like you to a place like this?”

"The Vegas Poker championship," she answered "Y/n Y/L/N, Top two poker players this side of the Atlantic," she introduced herself

Benny's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his interest piqued by the revelation. He couldn't help checking her out and trying to hide the small blush that forced it's way to his cheeks, he knew Y/n, having seen her in sports illustrated a few times and… They have have been… A few of her pages under his bed- but he did his best to keep his cool. He set his beer down, his hands steepled together as he leaned in, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Y/n Y/L/N, huh? I've heard of you. You're quite the legend among poker enthusiasts, I uhh dabble a little myself,”

"Thank you, nice to know I have a reputation. I've heard of you too, October's sports illustrated they did you wasn't it? Very brooding." she slightly teased

Benny's face flushed a deeper shade of red as he tried to play it cool, but his eyes betrayed his embarrassment. He glanced away, clearing his throat before responding, “Ah, yeah… that shoot. I guess they liked the whole 'tortured artist' vibe I was going for.” He chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his blond hair. But then, his expression turned serious, and he leaned in closer, his voice taking on a flirtatious tone, “So, Y/n, what do you say we make a bet? Loser buys dinner?”

"And what would we be winning or loosing at Mr watts?"

Benny's grin spread wide across his face as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“A game of chess, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Winner takes all… including bragging rights, of course.”

she scoffed "Now why would I willingly try and play benny watts at a game of chess? You think I'm stupid?"

Benny's grin faltered for a moment, but then he recovered, his confidence returning in full force. He leaned back in his chair, a sly smile spreading across his face once more “Oh, I don't think you're stupid, Y/n,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I think you're intrigued. And besides…”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he picked up her hand, His thumb danced across her palm, “You see, when I win, you have to admit defeat… and kiss me.” Benny's eyes locked onto hers, challenging her to accept the terms of their little game. His gaze burned with intensity, leaving no doubt about the outcome he had in mind. he gave her hand a little kiss,

"Why would I? A professional poker player take the chance at playing the US beat chess player at a game of chess? Be like you willing playing poker with me." She explained removing her hand from his grip and finishing her drink "And if you want a girl to kiss you so badly Mr watts, you could just… Order her a drink?" She suggested,

Benny's face fell, his lips curling into a mock-offended pout as he raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. “Oh, so now you're playing hard to get?” He laughed, the sound low and husky, as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “Well, I suppose I can play along,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he signaled the bartender for another round. he said, his words dripping with seduction. “How about we cut the crap, finish this round and then you meet me in my hotel room tonight… alone.” Benny's smile was a slow, lazy curve of his lips, inviting her to join him in a game of cat and mouse.

she raised an eyebrow and sipped her drink "bold aren't you?"

Benny chuckled, the sound low and confident, as he leaned back in his chair, a smirk still plastered on his face. “I'm not bold, darling… I'm just direct.” He shrugged, his shoulders rolling beneath his leather jacket, as he reached for his beer. “I make no apologies for wanting what I want,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, as he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.

"And tell me exactly what will happen if I came up to your hotel room?"

Benny's eyes flashed with a hint of mischief as he set his glass down, his gaze never leaving hers. “Well, I think that's fairly obvious,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. “If you came up to my hotel room…” he paused, letting the silence hang between them like a challenge. “…you'd find out just how well I play chess…off the board.” he winked, Benny's smile was a sly, predatory curve of his lips, as he leaned forward, his eyes burning with anticipation.

"Time?"

Benny's gaze snapped towards the clock on the wall behind her, his eyes lingering on the time before returning to hers, “Midnight,” he said, his voice low and husky, as he nodded once, sealing the deal.

she nodded finishing her drink, as pulled a compact mirror and lipstick tube from her bag touching up he make up before returning them to her bag, "I'll see you then benny" she cooed putting her handbag on her shoulder and giving Benny's cheek a kiss leaving a bright red fresh lipstick kiss on his skin before she left the hotel bar,

Benny watched her go, a slow smile spreading across his face as he lifted his fingers to touch the kiss on his cheek. “Mmm… Y/n,” he whispered to himself, a low hum of anticipation vibrating through his chest. He glanced around the dimly lit bar, making sure they were alone before standing up and heading towards the elevators.

[unetherian]

hi i’m very very new to the community and just trying to figure myself out! do you have any general resources for people new to the therian/alterhuman community?

also, do you have tips for a mourning dove, whitetail deer, or general feline and canine tips? sorry if that’s too much you can just do one if you want

thank you and no pressure!

(from @it-might-be-a-creature)

Hi and welcome to our community! 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣

To find reliable information on alter/nonhumanity, I recommend the Youtube channel of therian territory and pink dolphin, I find it very interesting.

You can also search the therian wiki/otherkin wiki/alterhuman wiki, but take this information with a grain of salt, as some information may be wrong, missing, or even completely invented. But generally it's pretty decent.

Therian guide is also a nice source.

For tips, know that I'm a feline therian, so I have more tips for felines, but I'll do my best for the rest :3

⚝Tips for mourning dove :

Put a blanket on your back and hold the ends with your hands to simulate wings (a classic)

Make or buy a shawl with feather patterns, I've already seen some crocheted ones on tumblr, it's gorgeous.

If you can, try to climb a tree (be careful though) or something high up.

Try vocals! You can try making bird calls(There are many tutorials on YouTube)!

Listen to nature sounds (especially bird chirping) by going outside, or indoors by listening to nature soundtracks on Spotify, for example.

Go outside to a windy place, close your eyes and imagine yourself flying.

Wears clothes with wide sleeves, which can resemble wings.

⚝Tips for whitetail deer:

Try deer vocals!

Focus on your sense of smell, and smell all the little odors that are barely visible in your environment (to be done in nature, if possible)

Learn the body language of white-tailed deer!

Gently tap your fingers on a hard surface to imitate a hoof sound

White-tailed deer are most active at dawn and dusk, you may be able to walk during these hours, if you can (be careful, be accompanied if possible). They usually rest during the day, so you could take advantage of this time to have a little nap!

⚝Tips for felines:

Practice purring, growling, meowing, (yes, even big cats can purr, although it's a little different than for cats)

Hunt for stuffed animals before eating and imagine eating what you hunted.

Create your own paper claws, it's easy to do and you'll find various tutorials everywhere.

Do your makeup to look like a feline (you don't have to cover your whole face, a little eye shadow under your nose, a line in the small hollow that connects your nose to your mouth and black on the the lower lip can be really euphoric)

Take care of your hair! Don't forget it's your fur.

Climb high (without putting yourself in danger and without doing things your body can't handle), because cats generally feel safer up high.

"claim" your territory! It can be in your garden/house or in a public place (just don't forget that in the latter case this land does not officially belong to you), It is very effective in satisfying one's territorial instincts.

⚝Tips for canines:

Makes canine vocals.

Canines often live in packs or groups, so try to spend more time with loved ones.

Try quadrobics if you can, but be sure to hydrate well and especially not to overdo it if you have arm, leg, heart, ect problems. It's normal that it hurts your fingers and joints a little and that it's difficult to find your balance, but it will pass with time. But if you really suffer a lot every time you try, don't insist, it's okay.

Wrap yourself in a blanket and imagine sleeping with your pack.

Take a nap outside if it's hot, it always feels good.

You can watch the movie "Wolves Walker", I haven't watched it myself yet but apparently it's very popular with canine therians (and many alterhumans in general).

I hope this helped you :3 I posted a list of things to do when you're a newly awakened alter/nonhuman, if you're interested, This might be useful to you. (no forcing)

https://www.tumblr.com/unetherian/760241665074233344/things-to-do-when-youre-a-newly-awakened?source=share

Have a great day/night! Bye!

[loriache]

V + L for the ask game c:

c:

ask game

V: Which character do you relate to most?

In Dunmeshi… There are parts of many different characters I relate to. Marcille’s high-strung, high-achiever, prissy nature is relatable (as a very small kid I would get upset when painting or playing in the garden because I got paint or dirt under my nails). I find Kabru’s focus on overthinking about the Morally Right Thing to do in every situation relatable - and find his decisiveness admirable. I relate to Laios’ difficulty in social situations, Falin’s Weird Creature Status at her school, and her tendency to self-efface and deny her own agency. In the Laios/Shuro fight I’ve been the person who was doing the wrong thing without realising, but I’ve also been the person feeling paralysingly anxious about being in public with someone who is being too weird or rude or Not Masking Well Enough or whatever. So I relate to Toshiro there too!

I suppose part of what makes this manga compelling is how grounded many of the characters feel. So I can see myself in many of the characters, particularly the main characters, very easily.

L: Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves

I don’t have many characters I dislike, to be honest - so let’s say, Delgal. His treatment of Thistle was unfair & their codependency was inflected in his favour by class and race and Thistle was never able to truly reckon with how bad that relationship was for him. It makes me so sad, and it does make me mad at Delgal! Piece of Shit King!

Ok now that I’ve said why I don’t like him… time to say something genuinely nice. ….

I have a hard time imagining how he could have had a better relationship with Thistle than he did, in the circumstances they were in. Don’t get me wrong, it was terrible - but it was never not going to be. If they didn’t buy Thistle, it’s because they got him for free; he was never ever an equal or even an equally full person to Delgal, and being raised in the way Delgal was, I don’t see how he could have recognised that as wrong without recognising his whole life, his identity, and the foundation of his role in his society as wrong. They didn’t have a chance.

No, that’s not… nice. Let me try again. There’s something beautiful about the way his power over his people and over Thistle ultimately trapped him in a symbolic role, denying any agency or real meaningful power. The king is the guy whose soldiers will come and beat you up if you don’t give him some of your harvest - that’s a big part of what administration of large regions entails! But what does that mean when you don’t need to eat? Without the threat of death, all power is ultimately symbolic, except Thistle’s - who is the only one with any real power anymore. There might be carvings all over the dungeon praising Delgal, but that means nothing! By asking Thistle to save him from death, he ultimately gave up the foundation of his power, which was the threat of force. Isn’t that great?

Also… not really nice, huh. Well. I think it was cute that he came up with the idea of Thistle trying foods from his homeland : ) That’s a genuinely nice gesture! And he wouldn’t have had Laios beaten for being in the way at his wedding feast. Not the worst type of guy that he could’ve been.

ask game

Thank you for playing Ask Game with me : ) you picked good questions!

[fanfics4all]

What Best Friends Are For

Request: Yes / No

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1332

Warnings: Mentions of someone dead and being caught up in shady shit

Y/N: Your Name 

Prompt(s): I did this based on this post!

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I stood in front of Spencer’s door, my heart pounding harder than it ever had. I could feel the cold creeping through my bones, but nothing compared to the chill of fear gripping me inside. I wasn’t sure he’d even recognize me after all this time, sure we talked all the time, but it’s still been so long since we’ve seen each other. But I had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe, nowhere I trusted. Just Spencer. 

When the door opened and I saw him standing there, I couldn’t help but see a rush of relief wash over me. His face softened and his familiar, warm eyes widened as he looked me over. I saw concern flicker there almost immediately, but he just stepped aside and invited me in. 

The warmth of his apartment was a stark contrast to the icy night outside, but it couldn’t chase away the dread that had settled deep in my chest. I felt his presence at my side as he followed me to the couch. It took everything in me to not break down right then and there. Instead, I forced a small smile and sat, clasping my hand tightly in my lap. 

“Do you remember when we were little, and I asked you if we’d always be friends?” I asked, looking up at him. Spencer smiled that gentle smile that I remembered so well. My heart ached as I waited for his response. 

“I said you could murder someone, and I’d still be your friend.” The warmth of the memory was fleeting. 

“How well has that aged?” I asked, trying to hide the shake in my voice, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken whisper. His smile disappeared and his eyes filled with concern as he searched my face. 

“What happened?” I looked down at my hands, trying to gather the corsage to say it. It was the whole reason I came here, wasn’t it? To tell him. To ask for help. I just didn’t know if he’d still look at me the same way again. 

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” I managed, barely about to keep my voice steady. 

“Something happened, Spence, something bad. And I’m… I’m scared.” His hand covered mine, his touch grounding me like it always had. 

“You can tell me anything, Y/N.” He said and I felt his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. I forced myself to look up at him and I could feel my throat tightening with the words I was about to say. 

“It’s just… things got complicated. I made some bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people…” I felt a tear slip down my cheek and I looked away, ashamed. 

“And now… now someone’s dead because of me.” 

The silence that followed felt like a thousand pounds on my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t bear to see disappointment or horror in his beautiful eyes. But instead, I felt his hand squeeze mine, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Tell me everything, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. 

“We’ll figure this out, together.” I felt another tear escape and this time, I didn’t hold back. I turned my hand under his, squeezing it. The tears came harder, all the fear and guilt I’d been holding back finally surfacing. But Spencer didn’t let go. He just kept his hand in mine. I took a shaky breath, trying to piece together where to even start. 

“It was supposed to be simple…” My voice was barely above a whisper. 

“A couple of new friends and I got caught up in this scheme, Spence. At first, it seemed harmless, a quick way to make some money. But things spiraled so fast…” I looked down ashamed. 

“I didn’t know what they were really planning and by the time I realized… someone was already dead.” Spencer’s grip on my hand tightened. His gaze was fixed on me, his face still calm, but I could see the concern in his eyes deepening. 

“Who are these people? Are you in danger?” I nodded, feeling my stomach twist. 

“They know I want out now. I think they suspected I might talk, and I was scared to go to the police. I thought… maybe I could just come here. You’re the only person I trust.” 

He took a deep breath and I could see him processing everything, analyzing every word I said. Spencer was a genius, that I knew. He’s probably already pieced together more than I could even say. Yet, he didn’t rush me. He let me speak at my own pace, his steady gaze holding me in place. 

“You were right to come here.” He said softly. 

“We’ll handle this. We can go to the police together and I’ll make sure they know you’re not involved the way they’ll think you are. You’re safe here, okay?” The certainty in his words made my heart ache differently. All I’d done was run to him, and yet, he was willing to risk everything just to help me. 

“Thank you, Spence. I-I don’t deserve this kindness.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” His tone was gentle, but firm. 

“I’d do anything for you, I always have.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. I noticed just how close he’d gotten. The world outside, the danger, faded away. It was just us, like when were were kids, the two of us finding safety and understanding in each other. I loved him then, in a way I didn’t fully understand, but now there was no denying what it was. 

“Spencer…” I started, not knowing where to go with the words, but he seemed to understand, like always. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. 

“We can figure the rest out tomorrow, but tonight, just know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” I closed the space between us, pressing my forehead against his, feeling his warm breath fan my face. 

“I love you…” I whispered, and before he could say anything, I pressed my lips against his. He didn’t hesitate to kiss me back. 

“I love you too, Y/N…” He said when we pulled away. 

“But, if you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?” He asked, his voice gentle but I could hear a bit of hurt. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. Shame and guilt clawed at me, knowing I’d chosen the riskier, more dangerous path instead of just talking to him. 

“Spencer…” I whispered, looking down. My fingers were fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve. 

“I…I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want you to see me like this… Desperate, needing help. I was afraid you’d think I was weak.” He shook his head, squeezing my hand gently. 

“That’s not true and you know it.” He said, a hint of frustration in his voice. 

“I would never have thought less of you. I would have done anything to help you, make sure you didn’t have to go through this.” His voice softened. 

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, to help you.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and he brushed it away. 

“I thought I could fix it myself. I didn’t want to be a burden.” I admitted, my voice trembling again. 

“You could never be a burden to me.” He said softly. A shaky breath escaped me, and I felt his arm slide around my shoulders, pulling me into a gentle embrace. I melted into his warmth, letting him calm me down. 

“I’m sorry, Spence… I’m so sorry.” I muttered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek. He held me tighter, his hand brushing through my hair. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll get through this together.” He whispered.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101  @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl 

[inu-jiru]

"Oops" Episode Rambles

I rewatched the episode for the sake of my rewrite post (plus I just wanted to see the final animation, credit where it's due, the show is fun to look at sometimes), and decided to share my thoughts since I haven't done that for an episode in a while:

Ngl, I'm honestly really indifferent towards Fizzmodeus, like I get that it's most people's positive for this episode but I honestly just don't care about it. I think it's because I'm so jaded to the 99% of dialogue that's sex-related to enjoy the sentimental stuff but also because it's just Bee and Vortex again, and it begs the question of why the shit Stolas' situation is so special (aside from him being Vivzie's baby) when the Sins just do whatever and either hide it poorly or don't hide it at all. Who came up with this hierarchy in the first place? Because the more we go on the more it seems like a thing that only Goetians focus on (which Ozzie should be apart of so what the fuck).

Speaking of Ozzie, I don't get why he's so nice, same with Bee. I'm not asking for everyone to be a shithead 24/7 but the concept of Hell's leaders, the ones who've created and are enabling the world of kill-or-be-killed that we've seen, being 100% friendly is just odd to me. Then again, Viv's idea of Hell is a nonstop party where they're all good unlike the EVIL BAD TOTALLY NOT GOOD angels and Adam so it doesn't surprise me. Also his whole thing about "Lust shouldn't be forced". Um? I'd get it if he were talking about LOVE, but Lust is not something I'd ever consider to be consensual in nature, especially not in Hell. That's all I'll say on the matter because it's a very serious topic, but then again, maybe I should consider myself lucky a topic that dark isn't being butchered by Vivzie. All of that said, I do like Ozzie's voice actor, he's really nice-sounding.

I don't understand what the hell happened with Fizz and Blitzo. Who the fuck was going around saying that Blitzo didn't wanna see Fizz and didn't tell Fizz that Blitzo showed up? I have to assume it was maybe Barbie or Cash (assuming Cash didn't also die in the fire). If it was Barbie I'm not entirely sure why. As far as we're aware (unless they retcon it in later) Barbie shouldn't have seen Blitzo knocking into the cake or leaving Fizz, so if she did it because their mom died, I can't see how she would know that. Maybe someone saw Blitzo and passed that on to Barbie, but the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have to Tetris-style guess and insert explanations for the episode. If any episode was going to be a full on backstory, it should've been this one, not The Circus, especially with Unhappy Campers being before this one.

On a positive note, I think those little fly-dog things are so cute in a kinda ugly way. I do think it's kind of a nice small look into Fizz's mind that he'd have one that's wheelchair-bound because he'd relate to it. Ozzie patching up Fizz was nice too, as much as I don't care for the couple, I'm glad that Fizzmodeus at leasts SHOWS the shit that Stolitz doesn't. And speaking of Stolitz, yeah Blitzo keep telling me all these things Stolas TOTALLY does for you yeah I'm sooooooo sure

And, like other people have said, Stolas was totally pointless and useless like always, and what a nice cool guy who totally isn't bad like the other Goetia when he let that lawyer guy get brutally murdered, like yeah I guess it wasn't really his place to help or anything but I don't think having him smirk and say "Get fucked, little one" is doing him any favors. I do have to wonder if they're actually gonna go through with this Crystal shit. I'm not gonna bother guessing anymore because like I said before, the show will throw a biggest, goofiest curveball at you to try and seem less predictable.

And speaking of curveballs, Crimson and Striker. That's it. That's all I gotta say on that subject. I miss Harvest Moon Festival, man. Like I'm no Striker fangirl who buys all the Striker merch and shit but damn he's so pathetic now. Why did Blitzo have to recreate the shit that happened and shoot the barrel when he could've shot Striker in the face while he was talking? Please, I need someone else on the writing team PLEASE

Anyway I think that's it for now.

[copperheid]

So I've recently gained a lot of weight

I got put on medication for my depression. Because my appetite was low and I was a bit underweight for my height my doctor prescribed Mirtazapine

And he told me I might gain a little bit but it should plateau after a while and it shouldn't be anything crazy.

It used to be that I struggled to recognise I was hungry until I was starving, but I rarely got to that point as I would be satisfied with a small lunch and a small dinner so long as I remembered to have them. I didn't have much need for snacks or breakfast.

Now since I started the medication I constantly feel like I'm starving. That painful, ravenous hunger that distracts from everything else until it is satiated, but it's never pacified long. I feel like I have to have breakfast, lunch and a sizable dinner as well as several snacks or else I'll be suffering terribly.

9 months later I've gone from a UK size 8 (US 4) to a UK 14 (US 10) and I've put on 20kgs / 42lbs, and that number is still steadily climbing.

I've started going to the gym to try to burn it off as often as I can, but I just wind up even hungrier after a workout.

I'm currently trying to muscle through it on willpower alone but I feel so awful. Food is literally all I can think about when I try to restrict my intake to what I used to eat. I feel like my whole body is on fire. And it's not working. Even restricting myself to eating the bare minimum needed to function I still see the number climb.

And while I have liked some of the changes that came with the weight gain- like bigger boobs and actually having an ass and hips...putting on weight in my belly has been very difficult to accept. Buying new clothes every couple of months even more so. Seeing the numbers go up on the scale, on the measuring tape and on my clothes...seeing the stretch marks grow in number and intensity day by day...it's scary. I worry it might never stop and I'll become so big that I can't lead a normal life anymore. That I'd need to buy a second seat on a plane. That I couldn't ride a roller coaster. That I couldn't dance. That I couldn't walk.

I worry that people are talking behind my back, saying I let myself go, that I'm ruined now. I worry my partner will stop finding me attractive.

I feel like I never have anything nice to wear because everything highlights my huge belly. I'm constantly bloated and could be mistaken for pregnant if you didn't know me. All my trousers dig in painfully and I heave over the top of them. Shirts are too tight and ride up to show off my pale, rounded skin.

And sometimes I find it sexy, in a strange way. Like my body is changing and growing softer, and soft bodies are sexy...but then the shame creeps in. Like I'm doing something wrong and taboo by finding my own bigger body sexy.

I feel forced to be more feminine than I am - dresses and skirts are the only clothes I feel comfortable in. Everything else digs in too much, shows to much, or adds bulk that makes me feel even bigger. I was never a girly girl - I'm not even sure I'm a girl at all.

I'm going to Japan next week and I had originally planned to buy clothes while I'm there. I had been excited about all the different styles I wouldn't be able to get back in Scotland. Now the idea fills me with dread. They won't stock my size in any of the normal stores there. I'll have to shop in stores with insulting names like Moo Moo Girl and Hey Fatty Boom Boom.

Maybe I'll grow to accept my body with time. Maybe I will even be able to lose the weight somehow. But i don't want to come off the medication. It's been the only thing that's made a dent in my depression and I couldn't stand to lose that. Maybe I could even be fat and happy someday - better than skinny and dead.

I just hope I figure this shit out soon.

[bi-bard]

Christmas Day - Benoit Blanc Imagine (Knives Out)

Title: Christmas Day

Pairing: Benoit Blanc X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 621 words

Warning(s): not having family/friends

Summary: (Y/n) had started working with Benoit Blanc more and more. When he finds out that (Y/n) doesn't have anyone to visit for the holidays, he decides to reach out and try to make their holiday season a little bit better.

Author's Note: Happy Holidays! I am not one who usually writes Christmas stories, but I thought that this would be cute.

--------------------------

I was never expecting to work with Benoit Blanc.

He was one of the best detectives in the world. He always seemed like a one-man team that may have been forced to work with others in certain situations. I didn't think that he had any interest in recruiting someone to work with him.

But after working one case with him, he started reaching out more and more.

Slowly, I started to feel like an actual partner. Like we both saw each other as equals.

Which probably wasn't close to true. He was pretty much my boss.

He was a nice guy. A little excitable when there was a mystery, but otherwise nice and honest. A good person.

I don't know how Benoit found out that I didn't have anyone to spend the holidays with. I'm sure that if I asked then I would get some long-winded explanation about how some small thing that I did or said.

I only found out that he knew when he asked me to join him on Christmas.

"What?" I replied, thinking that I must've misheard him.

"I want you to join Phillip and me for Christmas," Benoit repeated.

I was silent for a few moments before I finally got myself to shake my head. "No, no. I can't do that. I don't want to intrude-"

"Nonsense," he cut me off. "Phillip and I would be happy to have you."

I took a deep breath.

"I don't want you spending Christmas alone," he continued. "Please?"

I sighed. "Fine."

"Good," he grinned.

Christmas day, I found myself walking up to Benoit's place and knocking on the door.

"There they are," Benoit cheered as he pulled the door open. I chuckled at him.

He pulled me into a hug. I barely avoided hitting him in the back with the bag that I had brought for him and Phillip.

"Merry Christmas," he stepped back. I said the phrase back to him.

Phillip stepped around him and gave me a softer hug. "It's nice to see you, (Y/n)."

"Thank you for inviting me," I said. I held the bag out to him. "I brought a gift."

"Oh, you didn't need to do this."

"It's the least I could do," I waved him off.

"Well, it's good that you mentioned gifts," Benoit walked over to another part of the room, coming back with a wrapped gift. "Open it."

I chuckled before pulling the wrapping paper off.

It was a collection of pens. Nice pens. I traced my thumb over the case.

"You mentioned enjoying having good pens to take notes with," he explained. "There are the best that money can buy."

"You... You didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did."

"I can't accept-"

"You can and you will."

I stammered for a moment before looking down at them again.

After a few moments, I moved to hug Benoit again. He chuckled before hugging me back.

"Thank you," I muttered. "For everything. It's more than I deserve."

"That's not true," he mumbled back to me before stepping out of the hug. "Now, come on, Phillip is quite the entertaining cook."

"Only because Benoit burns everything that he touches," Phillip added.

I laughed before hopping onto the barstool next to the kitchen island.

The night was spent chatting, watching Phillip do most of the cooking, and eating.

They were both so kind to me. It didn't feel like I was a burden or that I was in the way. I felt like a part of the family. It was a new feeling for me, but I really enjoyed it. I could get used to feeling like that.

All I could hope was that I could somehow show them how much that meant to me.

--------------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters