#at least I’ve been having fun with them

[thedragonlies]

I’d like to add a little personal aside since this has crossed my dash several times now:

I’ve been self conscious about variety in dialogue tags ever since a mentor in my masters program advised me to avoid trying to get too creative with them. I’m writing for fun and for myself, so I try not to let that stop me too much because I do think they can be a lot of fun. However, since I’m such a (willing and eager) slave to third-person limited, I’m more often considering with dialogue tags—as I am with everything else—whether it’s a word that’s in my POV character’s vocabulary, and whether it’s a word they would use to describe the person speaking. I think there’s a lot more fun to be had there than variety for variety’s sake, and it’s how my fics end up with the occasional dialogue tags like, ‘he definitely-didn’t-whine (princes don’t whine, after all)’ (Maybe y’all are cringing every time I do that, I don’t know, but it tickles my fancy at least😂, see: writing for myself)

And more often than not, I’m avoiding dialogue tags entirely in favor of describing the action being paired with what’s said. So “said” doesn’t actually get all that repetitive when I'm really only using a dialogue tag probably less than half the time.

With those notes to myself, I do think this can be a great resource to have!

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[shiningjustforreid]

aura

where Spencer Reid meets someone who shares his pain - if only for a bit.

warnings/tags: 18+ (implied intimacy), migraine-era spencer reid, reader has migraines, reader is called ‘girl’ once, heavy themes at the end, spencer rambles about stars, hospitals, spencer calls reader ‘angel’, no use of y/n

word count: 1774

a/n: hi! this is my very first published fic (even though i’ve read for years!) and it’s nothing major, but i thought it would be fun to finally write! i hope you enjoy <3

- ✩ -

Hospitals may be one of his least favorite places.

“Did you know that actually on any given day 1 in 31 people in a hospital have a hospital induced infection? these include things like a surgical site infection, MRSA,”

Cue the smell of the antiseptic, drowning out the smell of people dying. It’s too clean.

Makes him on edge. But then again, most things do. When people give him that look that clearly says ‘shut up.’ He seems to pull in darkness, trouble, and maybe it’s because he creates it for himself.

Currently, he’s sat, in one of those uncomfortable hospital benches, foot tapping anxiously, sunglasses on, because everything hurts. Notably, his head and eyes.

The lights. The lights build a nausea in him that’s like a tidal wave, build an agony behind his eyes that threatens to reduce his thought process to ash. He still squints, behind the black plastic; it’s not enough, not enough to quell the pain entirely.

“No, I’m, about to go in, actually.”

Is what he should’ve said. But Spencer Reid, a forward man, an eloquent man, is not.

“Can I sit here?”

Quiet, but polite. He makes the mistake of looking up. Your hair is messy, probably from the wind outside, and tucked away from your face. The coat you have on is a deep admiral blue, and it just makes the lack of color in your face all the more apparent. A green bag, slung on your shoulder, as you fiddle with the zipper. Chapped lips form into a halfway smile, and, most noteworthy of all, you have black, plastic glasses on.

“I have an appointment, it’s probably, it’s right after yours, but if I can’t sit here, it’s okay, I-��

You’re backtracking, which means you’re nervous, probably because he’s just been looking at you with an impassive expression, even more unreadable due to the glasses. He clears his throat, and opens his mouth.

“No, um, actually I’m waiting. Hopefully not much longer though.”

God help him, because there’s a shared struggle here, between the two of you. He sees it, in your tense shoulders, the way you sit down slowly, as to not generate any more pain than necessary, the way your hands tremble like leaves in the wind when you adjust your glasses after slowly turning to him. Your halfway smile stays put, though, even through the slow movements.

You move like that, because every movement seems to intensify the burning hot behind your skull.

He knows. He doesn’t know you. Not at all.

But he knows your pain. And maybe that’s enough.

You don’t nod, because it’s unnecessary movement.

“Yeah, I finally gave in and booked an appointment. I’ve had to call out of work for them at least 3 times in the last two weeks.”

Them. The migraines. You don’t need to name them, you both just know. You’re clearly both there for a reason.

“I’m uh, Spencer, by the way. I’ve had mine for a bit now too.”

You tell him your name, and the sound makes a welcome warmth flood through his chest. A star, tiny, but burning, is born. Gravity in his chest, tugging you in, as your heat floods his heart.

Bad idea, bad idea - the alarm bells are clanging. He doesn’t know how sick he is, and he really doesn’t know how sick you are. This could spell disaster, and yet-

He’s intrigued. You radiate this nervousness, a distinct desire to be understood, seen, known. He knows that desire. He has that desire. He wants to know you.

“I think mine might just be due to stress, but, I don’t know. It’s the easiest explanation to deal with.”

For your sake, he hopes that’s all they are. Stress.

And, you’re still sitting there, head bowed, when the nurse comes out and asks questions.

She asks about hallucinations. As if this hell is all in his head. You sit there, silent, biting your lip, worrying the cracked skin in your teeth, your hands picking at the fraying edge of your coat.

When he comes back out, somehow even more tired, even though all he did was lie there and answer some questions, he speaks your name, softly.

As if he has the right to.

You jump a little, look up, and remove your glasses. He stares, he can’t help it. Visible, is the pain, the way your ocular muscles are tense, your skin without color, but you smile, still.

He makes you smile.

“Everything okay?”

Spencer nods hurriedly.

“Fine, for now, I have to get to work. You uh-you’re next?”

“Mhm. Will I—is there any chance I’ll see you again, Spencer?”

You don’t know him. You know him, you must.

“Uh, I mean, I—you want to see me again?”

When will he learn to speak when it actually matters?

“Only if you want to, I-I know I would like to see you again.”

He leaves the hospital, that damn hospital, with a small slip of paper, with ten numbers scrawled in purple ink, and your name below it, a tiny smiley face beside it.

When he gets home from his next case, he fishes that paper out of his messenger bag and types each digit into his cell phone with shaky hands.

Is he tempting fate? Perhaps. But fate answers, your soft voice coming through the phone.

Soon, he finds himself at a café with you, sipping his saccharine sweet coffee and telling you about his job, or some book he just finished, in detail that you don’t seem to protest against. It’s refreshing, really - just to be listened to. To be heard. When you leave, you give him a barely-there kiss on the cheek, a soft goodbye. The star burns brighter.

“I had my follow up appointment.”

He tells you, on the third date, as you two sip coffee once more - are these dates? Would Morgan be impressed? - trying to keep the conversation casual, yet relevant. Your eyes widen with interest.

“And? Did they give you answers?”

He makes a face, shaking his head.

“No. Well, yes, but they told me it’s psychosomatic.”

All in his head.

Your face falls, and you look truly sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I knew how much you didn’t think that to be the case.”

He takes comfort, then, in the way you hug him goodbye, your cheek pressed against the cotton of his cardigan, eyes shut against the light. He tenses, only for a second, before his arms curl around you, resting against your coat.

“We should do dinner.”

He mumbles into your hair, before he can stop himself.

A real date.

And you do. You have dinner, and he makes you laugh, even though it’s quiet, like a bell ringing at Christmas, tiny, joy-filled, and the star in his chest just glows. Your face is tense, though, and he can’t figure out why. You won’t say. either. You never do. You keep your responses composed, and careful, calculated. Like you’re afraid. He wonders why, but won’t press it. You are made of nervous energy. He knows this now.

A few months, of appointments for both of you and cases for him where he aches for your hand in his and coffee and dinner and museum dates, and one ice skating excursion he will not mention, and then—

He makes another mistake then, when he asks you to come over, after a case.

“Just for coffee, or to talk, not to-you know, unless that’s what you want, I—“

Yet, that’s how he ends up with you in his bed, in his lap, your warm hands sliding over his skin like you’re in awe, your wide eyes meeting his own, because he dimmed the lights, and thank God neither of you are hurting right now.

He takes you apart, piece by piece, with his mouth on your collarbone and fingers across your ribs, learning, seeking to know. Because that’s what he wants, to know you, fully, in every way he can, until there’s nothing left for him to study.

After he watches you tremble under him, with his name on your lips, he realizes he’ll never be able to memorize all of you. You’re too extensive, with the blush on your cheeks and the way you cling to him and the way your eyes sparkle for a moment, just a moment, before they dim again.

You’re tucked into him, under his chin, as he traces shapes mindlessly into your back with his fingertips. He feels that star, burning bright in your arms, for millennia to come.

“I love you.”

You smile against his chest, before you speak again, choked up.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Whyever not, angel girl?”

Because you are like an angel, come down from the heavens, his angel, gracing his life during some of the most incredible pain he’s ever felt.

“They told me I’m dying. They found the source of it all.”

And the star fizzles, and sparks, and slowly, a cold ice begins to dwell where the star was. Months fly by, and yet drag, each day feeling long but the weeks short.

He finds himself in the hospital - miraculously, his migraines have given him respite today - your hand in his, his eyes on you. You don’t say much, you never did, but now, he feels like you don’t ever speak at all.

Until you do.

“Spence?”

The light in his chest flickers, illuminating his darkness.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you talk? About anything? I just wanna hear you.”

He nods, and his voice gets quiet, almost breathless, the longer he speaks.

“Did you know that stars actually are simultaneously pulling apart and being pushed together? The heat from inside the star creates a pressure that causes the atoms to separate, but the gravity attraction forces them back together, as it burns. The bigger a star is though, the less time it takes to go through that fuel.”

He stops, looking down at you. He wonders if you’re listening.

“But when the heat is gone, when it stops burning, there’s nothing to counteract the gravitational pull, and—“

And it collapses in on itself.

“And it just sort of sucks everything else in without its heat, the light, if it’s large enough. Pulling everything in, everyone in-“

He’s said too much. You open your eyes, your voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t want you to do that. You won’t, Spencer, I swear.”

In a rare moment of strength, you tug yourself up, to hold his face in one hand.

“You burned before me. You’ll burn again.”

He nods, desperately trying not to weep.

But I won’t burn like I did with you.

“The brightest stars burn the fastest, so we must love them while we can.”

- Anna Todd

[themostlesbianever]

College AU Sevika x reader

A/N: I havent posted a new chapter since last year hihihi. Sorry I had to make that joke

In all seriousness, sorry for making yall wait for so long, ive been doing a bit shit.

One last thing, Im very scared of mischaracterising my girl Sevika so please let me know if i write her in a way that does not seem right🙏

this chapter has a reference to reader having long hair.

(only semi-proofread)

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

You’re abruptly awoken by Sevikas alarm going off, you hear her groan before hearing some rustling. You’re just about to get up to turn the alarm off yourself but then it stops ringing. The bed creaks and Sevika groans again, then yawns. 

You turn in your bed, facing her now instead of the wall. You crack one eye open slightly, trying to savor the sleepiness you were still feeling. “Morning” you say, voice just above a whisper. “Morning” she replies, voice gravelly yet soft. “I’m sorry did I wake you?” she asks. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Why are you up so early Sev?” 

You had given her the nickname ‘Sev’ a little over a week ago and she hasn’t told you to stop yet, so you were going to keep calling her that until she did. 

“It’s really not that early,” she says. “but I wanted to go to the gym before class.” 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re a gym bro,” you joke. She rolls her eyes but a small chuckle escapes her lips. “Also waking up early is good for you.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Sure” you say before turning back around to catch a little more sleep. You listen to the subtle sounds of her getting ready for the gym before drifting back into a comfortable sleep. 

You’re once again woken up against your will, this time by Sevika opening the door and entering the room. “Are you still asleep?” Are the first words that come out of her mouth. You open your eyes and are met with a shirtless Sevika. She's wearing a simple black sports bra and black sweatpants. The t-shirt she was wearing earlier is now draped off her waist, one end of it tucked into the front of her waistband, the rest hanging loose. 

Her giant arms and impressive abs are on full display and you can’t help but admire them. She starts making her way over to her closet. “As a matter of fact, I was just about to get up” you lie. You sit up and the blanket falls off of you, the cold air of the room suddenly hitting you. You shiver, quickly pulling the blankets up to your chin. 

“Sev, could you grab me a hoodie from my closet please, it’s freezing in here.” you ask her. She turns towards you. “Dude you’re so dramatic, it’s not that cold” she says, walking to your closet anyway and grabbing a plain dark green hoodie. She throws it to you and you thank her. 

“I’m gonna go shower quickly, do you wanna get breakfast together?” She asks, once again rummaging around in her closet, presumably looking for something to wear. “Yeah sure” you reply. “I’ve gotta call my grandma in a bit though, she’s very serious about our weekly calls, especially now that I'm at college and can’t visit her as often,” you add.  

“You’re really close to your grandma right?” she asks. You simply nod. 

You’ve been really close to your grandma for as long as you can remember. When you were very little you were over at your grandmas all the time, when your mum was at work, shopping, going out with friends. And both you and your grandma absolutely loved it.

As you got older you just got closer and closer, coming over for a cup of tea, baking cookies together, preparing Christmas dinner and all sorts of other fun activities. You told her everything. So she was naturally sad to see you leave for college. You had promised to call her at least once a week, if not more. 

She had also said she’d come ‘break you out of that joint’ if it ever got too much. She’s the sweetest old lady and you love her to death, and so does your mother. Sometimes when you call her you’ll hear your mother coming in to visit grandma, so you stay a little longer, gossiping with both of them and telling them how much you miss them. 

“That’s cute” she says, you think you hear a slight hint of sadness or disappointment in her voice but you shrug it off. She grabs all of her shower stuff and heads out the door. You get up out of bed and stretch your arms out over your head. You grab your phone from your nightstand and go to your grandma's contact, clicking the little phone button and calling her. 

The harsh beeptone starts playing, indicating that you were, in fact, calling your grandma. After it goes off a few times she picks up.  “Good morning darling, how are you?” a slightly scratchy voice sounds from the phone. “Hello grandma, I’m doing alright, how about you?” 

“I’m doing alright darling, how's college? Are you and your roommate getting along?” She asks, “Yeah, she’s really nice, and a good roommate too. She cleans up after herself, isn't too loud. And another bonus, she doesn’t mind my endless yapping.” You say, finishing with a small chuckle. “I told you you’d be alright, how’s that boy of yours, Ekko?” She asks.

Ekko has been around your grandma's house many times as well while you two were growing up.

“Yeah he's good too grandma, and he's not my boy” you say sternly. “That's good to hear darling, I’ve always liked that boy. When you two were little you were attached at the hip.” She says with a little laugh, remembering all the shenanigans you and ekko got up to back in the day. 

“Yeah, I’d say we still are” You laugh. You put the phone back down on your nightstand, and tap the speaker button. Sevika never takes very long to get ready, so you want to be close to ready when she returns, so you can leave for breakfast quickly.

You open one of the drawers under your bed, the one with all of your pants in it, and happily chat away with your grandma while trying to find the right pair of jeans for the day. She talks about some of the neighborhood gossip. Your grandma seems to know everyone in town and also everything about everyone, so gossip sessions are always fun with her.

You pick out baggy light wash denim jeans to wear for today, also grabbing a black belt from the drawer. You close the drawer and lay the pants and belt down on your bed. You then open the second clothes drawer and grab a tight, black, long sleeve shirt. You also lay this down on the bed, then make your way over to the closet. You grab a dirty grey colored jacket and also lay that down on the bed. 

You get dressed, tucking the long sleeve into your jeans and throwing on the jacket, zipping it up about halfway. You're still on the phone with your grandma while doing your hair, you let out a few frustrated grunts. “What's wrong dear?” She questions

“My hair is being SO annoying right now, I just want to wear a high ponytail but there's bumps every time I put the elastic in.” You groan. “Just wear your hair down,” she replies, probably with a shrug. “No I can do it,” you say. Trying one last time to put your hair up, you brush it all back and grab it with one hand, plucking out two little strands of hair to frame your face. You slide the elastic off your wrist, twisting it around the ponytail. You almost cheer when you see you finally succeeded. 

You sit down on your bed and just as you do, Sevika walks in. “Hi, I’m still on the phone with my grandma if you wanna say hi.” you say. “Hi miss y/l/n” she says. “Hello dear” 

“I’m assuming that means you have to hang up then?” She asks, clearly a little disappointed. “Yeah sorry grandma” you reply. Sevika had started getting ready almost as soon as she had gotten back from her shower, and somehow she was almost done already. 

“I will talk to you later grandma, have a good day” you tell her, she tells you to have a good day too and you hang up. Putting on your jewelry as a finishing touch before heading out to grab breakfast with Sevika. 

--------------------------------------------------------If you would like to be tagged, please let me know

Tag list: @0eatmysoulll0-blog @misswynters @vikaswife @ladycupa0-0 @d3adbrainer @vintage-karma @gravegoer @sevikasrightboob

[cherry-smokes]

Don’t you want me baby?

AKA Steve doesn’t want you to meet his parents and you start spiraling Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.2K Warnings: hurt/comfort because Steve is just too into Sugar to let her hurt too long.

You’ve always known you weren’t a ‘bring home to the parents’ kind of girl. Frankly you took a lot of pride in it. At the end of the day you didn’t want to meet the people who created the assholes you’ve dated before. Them not offering just took the pressure off your shoulders. Relationships were always just a fleeting, sometimes fun thing. Most guys got bored after realizing they prefer to be the rockstar instead of the groupie.

You’ve denied yourself the desire for love for a long time. It didn’t feel tangible before. So why would you plague yourself with the disappointment of not being enough for someone. It was easier to live that way.

Steve made you feel different. Steve made you feel like that part of you which you had locked away for so long finally had a space to run free. That you weren’t an idiot for thinking that there truly was someone out there who would love you unconditionally. It feels too soon to say that but you couldn’t stop the freight train that was Steve Harrington from crashing into the brick wall you had built around your heart.

That’s probably why this all hurts so much.

It hadn’t even felt like a big deal to you at the time.

“I could just meet you at your place?”

“Oh…no, no I’ll come pick you up.”

“You always pick me up, let me drive. I wanna take care of you this time.” it came out teasingly. With that goddamn smile that made Steve’s knees buckle and his heart beat so strong he could feel it all the way up to his shoulders.

“No just- I’ll pick you up”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver or something?”

He chuckled at that. “Considering the fact that Eddie taught you to drive, I’m doubtful of your abilities.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten a single ticket. So you should let me treat my pretty boy to a night out and let me make him my passenger princess for once.”You grab his face and kiss him sweetly. Teeth against teeth as you both smile, but his fades faster than yours does.

“My parents are home this weekend, you don’t want deal with them.”

“Who said I didn’t want to deal with them?”

“They’re a lot.”

“Well, so am I.”

“I just think it’s better if I pick you up, yeah?”

You’ve never had a smile wiped off your face so fast. You nod and lean away from him.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Steve makes you feel…soft. Had it been any other guy this would have never bothered you, but Steve wasn’t any other guy. He was someone you had grown to really care for. Someone you actually saw a future with, or wanted to at least. So him not wanting you to meet his parents felt like a bad omen.

If we’re closer to your family, physically and in any other sense, you would have introduced Steve to them in a heart beat. The closest thing you had to that was Eddie and the guys, and Steve had already met them.

So yeah. This was a pretty big fucking deal to you. You know the kind of girls he’s dated before. Prim and proper. The kind of girls who go on to be beauty queens or valedictorians. That never bother you before, but now you’re thinking about every reason why he wouldn’t want you to meet his folks.

Your reputation isn’t…polished. You’re abrasive, and overwhelming to some people. You hang out with ‘freaks’ and you make a living off of playing in dive bars and bartending. None of that really screams ‘life long partner.’

Maybe that’s what he’s looking for. Maybe you’re just a stepping stone for him. Some crazy story he can tell his Wall Street friends one day when he finally decides to give into his father’s wishes.

You wish all of this wasn’t running through your mind right now. Sat on your couch with Steve’s arm around you. You feel tense. Like you don’t really fit next to him. It’s been this way all night. At dinner, in the car, even at the door step to your apartment when he asked if you wanted to watch a movie instead of calling it a night.

You know what’s coming. He’s too attentive to not notice. You’ve seen how he’s cowered into himself all night and the way his eyebrows have drawn together as you brush off his affection.

You don’t want to be cruel, but you get mean when you’re hurt. You’ve never known anything else. You wish you knew a better way to deal with it but you don’t and you can’t look at this man who makes you burn and lie to him like you have to others.

So when he asks you what’s wrong you can’t bring yourself to say it’s nothing.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

You feel it then. His arm tenses up and it moves away from around your shoulders as he leans back to look at you.

“What?”

“I know you heard me don’t make me repeat myself.”

He looks genuinely confused. Like he can’t understand why you’re asking this.

“Why would I be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know Steve, you tell me.”

He looks you dead in the eyes. The weight of his gaze makes you feel heavy, like you’re sinking into yourself.

“I’m not ashamed of you I l-you know how I feel about you.”

You want to believe him. You want to so badly. You want to nod and agree and curl into his side so he’ll kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you forget every horrible thing that’s ever happened to you both. But you can’t.

“You don’t want me to meet your parents.”

“No. I don’t.”

He’s like one of those Greek statues you see in museums. Gorgeous, and strong. The way he says it is…steadfast. One of the loveliest things about Steve is that he is stubborn…now it feels like one of the worst.

You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want embarrass yourself so you choke it down like everything else and turn towards your television screen.

“Ok then.”

You rack through your brain trying to decide if you want to kick him out kicking and screaming or just let him go on his own. Before you can decide, his hand is on your face and he’s turning you towards him. His grip on your chin is tender but strong. Just like him.

“I can see those gears turning in your head. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you.”

Your eye twitches like it always does when you’re confused. He fucking adores it.

“You’re stubborn, and loud, and probably too honest for your own good. You’re…vulgar, and brilliant and you drive me fucking insane and you’re too goddamn good for my parents. They wouldn’t know what to do with you, I don’t know what to do with you but I’m so fucking thankful you’re letting me figure it out. I just want to keep you to myself so I can woo you long enough to not run away when you do meet them.”

Your bottom lip trembles. You’re thankful he doesn’t point out the quiver in your voice when you finally speak up.

“I’m not that stubborn.”

His smile is golden. You let him drag you into him as he presses his lips against yours. You want to savor it and keep him there forever but you can’t stop his hand moving from your chin and grabbing at your hair as he pulls your head back so he can he trail sweet pecks against your cheek and down your neck.

“Whatever you say Sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tiny little angsty blurb for you guys<3

[lonesilverw0lf]

I had this other idea right after I posted the first Mom Friend idea, only to find several more posts already made! It’s all amazing work too, I’m kinda jealous. Either I’m slow as hell, or y’all write too damned fast! Either way, didn’t wanna throw this away so here it is. Please enjoy!

Mom friend(now shortened to Mama) and Tomboy are sharing a cup of tea when Tomboy gets sleepy all of a sudden. Mama leads her to a room where MC has been knocked unconscious and dropped into a bed. Quickly putting Tomboy into the bed with MC, she covers them with a blanket and closes the room.

Goth, standing right by the door: Do you have to do that? And how did you snag MC in the first place? I didn’t even know he was here.

Mom: Oh MC was actually because of Bully and Track Girl bringing him in. It was Bully’s idea apparently. I was surprised too. Almost made my eyes open. I just wish MC wasn’t literally dragged in with all those lumps on his head. I’m sure Bully thought it was necessary, and he’s probably right, but still…

Goth: That still doesn’t explain why you essentially drugged Tomboy and locked them in a room together. Trying to play matchmaker?

Mama: What? Can you blame me? Those two are cute. Oh I sure underestimated the strength of the sleeping herbs in the tea, that’s on me. Not like I could tell how strong they were with MC being half unconscious when I gave some to him in the first place. They’ll both be out for the rest of the day at least. They both need their rest and if anyone can help MC with his anxiety it’s- wait. Are you jealous?

Goth: Jealous? What? Now you’re being dumb.

Mama: You’re jealous that they’re cuddling like we used to! You’re feeling lonely!

Goth: Now you’re delusional.

Mama, squishing Goths face: If you wanted some attention you just have to ask! It’s not like I can deny my precious twin sister anything in the whole world!

Goth, swatting Mamas hands away: No! Go away! We haven’t done that since we were like seven!

Mama, wrapping Goth up in a hug: It’s perfectly normal to want some loving! Studies show that a healthy mind and body needs a minimum of four hugs a day for just surviving, eight for maintenance, and twelve for growth. When was the last time you got hugged since we were summoned here? You must be deep in hugging withdrawal!

Goth, groaning into her hands: What did I do in a past life to get cursed with you as a sister?

Mama: Oh don’t be a Grumpy Joe! You know you love me!

Goth: He was such a good kitty. Had the stupidest face.

Mama: We’ll I’m sure it wasn’t his fault he had a medical condition that made his face scrunch like that. Cmon, let’s go take a bath! I’ll wash your back~!

Goth, squirming out of Mama’s hug: No. Get away from me you perv.

Mama, smirking and in a dramatically flowery story voice: “‘Oh please Edward, not there! Not now!’ Shania moaned, ‘We can’t be doing this!’ But Edwards hands refused to stop, as if they had a mind of their own. Her breath hitched as he-“

Goth, now mortified: You read that?!

Mama: You’re the one who posted it on wattpad ya goob! And those two other websites! You also should do a better job looking after your creative journal. The amount of places I’ve found it out in the open, oh dear~. I must say, for someone who claims to be ‘one of the darkness’ you are pretty innocent in love and even your perverse fantasies are mild! Oh wait, you did write that one about that modern Duke and his ‘fun room’. Although that was pretty mellow too. Where did you get the inspiration? I know you haven’t read 50 Shades, so where did you- did you sneak into mom’s stash again?

Goth, trying to pull her hair out: Argh! You and dad both! That’s it! You just volunteered yourself to be my first cursed subject! Where’s that rat?! I need a sacrifice!

Mama, grabbing Goth by the shoulders and pushing her down the hall: You’re so tense! It’s not like I told them! Cmon, after a nice hot bath I’ll treat you to a nice massage~! Oh? And perhaps an adjustment, your cervical vertebrae don’t feel right. What have you been using for a pillow?

Skater Boy, seated at a table with Queen Bee and Flower Girl, his eyes following them and locked onto Mama’s dump truck of an ass: Now I’m jealous.

Queen bee grabs him by the ear: Now you knock it off! It’s disgusting to see men lusting after Mama! Especially a slacker like yourself!

Skater grabs her nose: Don’t gimme that crap! I see you girls ogling her just as much as any guy! Probably even more so since you all share a locker room! And don’t act like you don’t drool whenever us guys have to train without shirts on!

Flower girl: He’s not wrong Bee, on both counts. And it’s not like any of us would turn down one of Mama’s massages either. Still boggles my mind that those two are twins. They look nothing alike and I get mistaken for any three of my sisters all the time! My younger brother a few times too.

Skater, rubbing his ear: Eh wait til he hits puberty and then that’ll stop. Genetics are weird sometimes. I still get told that I look like my great uncle when he was my age. It’s more shocking to see Goth make those kinda faces. Only Mama can pull anything out of her. She’s so cooly collected with anyone else.

Bee, rubbing her nose: Me and my cousin are often mistaken for sisters too. It might help that our moms are sisters in the first place. Oh Skater, what were you doing out so late last night for?

Skater: Hm? Oh right! Thanks for reminding me. Here Flower, I was checking out the area for those weird plants that you were talking about.

Flower: What weird plants? I’m don’t- *le gasp* a whole bag of knucklebrom weed?! With the seeds and the flowers and roots and everything?!

Skater: MC helped me figure out where to even get some. He was just as lost as to why you wanted them in the first place.

Flower, smiling manically: Oh all the potions I can make with you~! Mix in some iodine, some powdered crows beak, maybe if I- *continues rambling on*

Skater, deadpan to Bee: She is such a Maomao when it comes to her plants and alchemy it’s not even funny.

Bee, equally deadpan: How has she not seen Apothecary Diaries? That would be right up her alley. Kinda looks like her too.

Skater: Throw a kimono on her, give her a haircut, get rid of her glasses, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Bee: If Netflix ever wants to do a live action of that show, and part of me prays that they won’t, but if they do they better cast her as Maomao.

Skater: You’re kidding? We talking the same Netflix?

Bee: Nah, you’re right. They’ll completely fuck it up.

~

Some minor backstory to the new characters

Skater boy is a slacker without a real direction in life, stays out of trouble but isn’t very dependable. Chill and easygoing, largely nonthreatening, puts in the bare minimum of work to have a good time or just vibe, got that 90s ‘yo dudes’ surfer vibe. This trip has been giving him the kick in the ass he needs.

Flower Girl runs her family’s flower shop and greenhouse with her siblings. Busy as a bee type, but only among plants and on a schedule who follows the rules to a tee. She’s becoming more confident and now is trying new things, even bending some rules. Having an alchemy instructor that’s half mad due to a few too many screwed up recipes blowing up in his face will do that to someone. Just hope she doesn’t absorb too much of his insanity.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

[kathlare]

rebuilding bridges

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando joins Amelie’s father and brothers for a round of golf, aiming to rebuild their trust and strengthen his connection with her family.

Wordcount: 2.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 18th, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

The early morning in London was gray and drizzly, a typical British day, but Lando couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. It had been a while since he’d seen Amelie’s family, and despite the years of friendship and the undeniable connection they had, he still felt the nervousness of trying to make a good impression.

He had flown in for a meeting at the McLaren Technology Centre, but today, he had a free day. And on that free day, Amelie’s dad, Elías, had invited him out for a round of golf. Amelie had warned him about the family’s sense of humor, about the way they poked fun at him, especially her brothers, Callum and Jack. But after everything, after the awkwardness of getting back together after their complicated past, Lando was eager to rebuild those bridges with her family. They had been so close to him before, and it stung when they all seemed distant, uncertain about his relationship with their daughter.

He arrived at the golf course early, a bit too early, trying to avoid the typical awkward small talk that always seemed to be his downfall. When he stepped out of the car, a gust of wind ruffled his hair, and he immediately regretted not grabbing a jacket. The cold London air was different from the warmth of Monaco, but the familiar feeling of being in the UK made him nostalgic.

Walking towards the clubhouse, he was greeted by Elías first, the older man smiling warmly at him, offering a handshake that lingered a bit longer than usual.

—Lando, good to see you, son,— Elías said, his voice gruff but filled with sincerity. There was a softness there now, a kind of acceptance that hadn’t been present before. —Glad you could make it. I know the family’s been looking forward to this.—

Lando returned the handshake, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as Elías's firm grip held him steady. It was a good start, at least. The older man’s presence was warm and reassuring, and it made Lando feel a little more at ease.

—It’s good to see you too, Elías,— Lando replied, a bit of a grin pulling at his lips. —I’m looking forward to it. Been a while since I’ve had the chance to play with some proper company.—

Elías chuckled, nodding his head as he gestured towards the others who were starting to gather near the course.

—Well, you’ll be playing with some of the best. You better keep up, or we’ll never hear the end of it from Callum.—

Lando’s stomach flipped at the mention of Amelie’s oldest brother. Callum was, well, Callum—intense, serious, and always with a sharp sense of humor. The one that would take every opportunity to poke fun at Lando, and at the same time, make him feel like he had to prove himself.

Lando smirked, glancing towards the group. —I’ll do my best, but I’ll warn you now, I’m not losing to any of them.—

At that, Elías let out a hearty laugh, slapping him on the back. —Good. That’s what I like to hear.—

Just as they were about to head towards the golf carts, Callum came walking over, the tall figure of Amelie’s older brother flashing a wide grin. He was dressed in a polo and khakis, looking every bit the part of a seasoned golfer, and his presence was enough to make Lando's nerves tingle. The man’s sharp eyes locked onto him immediately.

—Well, well, if it isn’t the McLaren golden boy himself,— Callum teased, clapping Lando’s shoulder a little too hard for his liking. —Ready to lose, Lando? I’m not going easy on you today.—

Lando let out a tight laugh, trying to match Callum’s energy without letting it show how nervous he felt. —You’re on, mate,— he said, grinning. —But don’t get too cocky. I’ve been practicing.—

—Uh huh, sure you have,— Callum snickered. —I think I’ll have a little bet on this round. You’re not going to embarrass yourself in front of my family, are you?—

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly, the friendly jabs cutting just a bit too close to the awkwardness he had felt in the past, when he wasn’t sure where he stood with them. —I’ll hold my own, don’t worry, Callum,— he said, forcing a confident smile. —But if you want to put money on it, I’m game.—

Jack, Amelie’s big brother, appeared beside Callum with a sarcastic grin of his own. He was a few years younger than Callum but had the same mischievous gleam in his eyes that Lando had always found intimidating.

Jack's voice carried across the green as he approached, his tone dripping with playful challenge. —I’ll bet you a round at the pub that Lando’s gonna choke halfway through this round,— he teased, nudging Callum with his elbow.

Lando could feel the heat rise in his cheeks, a familiar feeling of being under the microscope that he had grown used to over the years with the family. But this time, there was an edge of determination in him, a desire to prove himself. It wasn’t just about winning; it was about showing them that he was still worthy of being part of their lives—especially now that he was with Amelie.

—Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass myself. But I’m not sure about you two,— Lando replied, his voice light but with just a hint of bravado. He gave a quick wink, trying to keep the atmosphere casual despite the nerves that were still bubbling beneath the surface.

Callum’s grin widened. —We’ll see, won’t we?—

—Oh, we will,— Jack added, giving Lando a knowing glance. His playful smirk never left, and it was starting to feel like they were setting him up for something.

Lando's attention was briefly pulled away as Checo and Joe strolled up, both of them looking relaxed and ready to play. Checo clapped him on the back with a friendly grin.

—You good, Lan?— Checo asked, his voice low and warm. It was clear that Checo knew Lando's nerves well by now, having spent enough time with him in similar situations.

Lando exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the nervousness. —Yeah, yeah. Just… trying to make a good impression. You know how it is.— He shot a quick glance at Amelie’s brothers, who were still giving him their usual teasing looks.

Joe, who had been quietly observing, gave Lando a comforting smile. —You’ve got this, mate. They just like to mess with you. It’s how they show affection, I think.—

Lando raised an eyebrow. —I’m not sure I’d call this affection, Joe. They’ve been going at me since I arrived.—

Joe chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. —Trust me, it gets better. Just play your game, and let them jab all they want. They’re testing you, but if you hold your ground, they’ll warm up to you again. Besides, if it gets too bad, you’ve got Checo and me here to back you up.—

Lando smiled gratefully, appreciating the support from Joe and Checo. —Thanks, I’ll try not to get thrown off. But… if I hit a bad shot, I’ll probably be hearing about it for days.—

—Don’t worry, you’ll hit plenty of good ones too,— Checo said, his voice light. —Just focus on the game. You’ve been playing for years, remember? You’ve got this. And if not, we can always blame it on the weather.—

Lando snorted, shaking his head. —I’ll hold you to that. If I lose, it’s definitely the weather's fault.—

The group made their way to the first tee, where they all took their positions. Elías, still in high spirits, stood nearby, ready to call the shots and make sure everything was running smoothly. Callum and Jack were already jockeying for position, pretending to strategize while clearly just trying to outdo one another.

As Lando prepared to take his first shot, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. The pressure to impress wasn’t just about the game; it was about being accepted back into the fold, about showing Amelie’s family that he was here to stay. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze against his skin as he focused on the ball.

—You’ve got this, Lando,— Checo called out from behind him, offering a reassuring thumbs-up.

Lando smiled at the encouragement, his hands steadying as he lined up his shot. When he swung, the ball soared through the air, landing in a perfect spot on the fairway. The sound of it hitting the grass was satisfying, and a small surge of pride went through him. He glanced over his shoulder at the others, who were all watching intently.

Callum raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. —Well, well. Looks like someone knows how to play after all,— he said with a smirk.

Lando gave a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it cool. —What can I say? I’ve been practicing.—

Jack smirked, stepping up to take his turn. —I’ll believe it when I see it.—

As the round continued, Lando felt himself loosening up. The teasing from Amelie’s brothers was relentless, but there was something different about it today. It wasn’t as cutting as it had been in the past. There was a certain camaraderie starting to return, a sense that maybe they were finally accepting him back into their fold, even if they were still trying to find the balance between teasing him and showing respect.

By the time they reached the back nine, Lando was starting to feel more comfortable. He had held his own, and though Callum and Jack still joked around, there was a sense of mutual respect beginning to form. Checo and Joe had kept things light and fun, offering subtle encouragement when needed, and Lando appreciated it more than he could express.

During a break between holes, Lando found himself walking alongside Amelie’s dad, Elías, who had been unusually quiet up until this point. The older man glanced over at him, offering a nod of approval.

—You’ve been doing well out here, Lando,— Elías said, his voice steady, but there was a warmth in his tone that immediately caught Lando’s attention. —I’ll admit, I had my doubts about you for a while. Not as a driver, mind you—you’ve always been good at that—but as someone who deserves to be with my daughter.—

Lando’s steps faltered slightly, and he quickly recovered, glancing over at Elías. His throat felt tight, and he wasn’t sure what to say. Elías didn’t seem upset, just reflective.

—I get it,— Lando said softly, finally finding his voice. —I didn’t handle things the right way before. With Amelie. I was… I was young and stupid. But I’m not that guy anymore. I care about her. A lot. And I’m trying to prove that to her every day.—

Elías studied him for a long moment, his dark eyes sharp but not unkind. —I can see that. She’s happy, you know. I haven’t seen her like this in years. You must be doing something right.—

Lando let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his lips curving into a genuine smile. —Thank you. That means a lot.—

Elías chuckled softly, patting Lando’s shoulder as they reached the next tee. —Don’t let it go to your head, though. The second you mess up, you’ll have me, Callum, and Jack on your case. Got it?—

—Got it,— Lando replied quickly, grinning. —No pressure, right?—

—None at all,— Elías said with a wink, stepping aside as Lando prepared for his next shot.

As the day wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Callum and Jack continued to joke around, but their jabs had softened into something almost fond. It felt like old times—like before everything had gone wrong between him and Amelie. By the time they reached the 18th hole, Lando was starting to feel like he was finally winning them over.

When the round finished, the group gathered near the clubhouse, laughing and sharing stories. Callum handed Lando a pint, smirking as he raised his glass.

—Well, Norris, you didn’t completely embarrass yourself. Consider me impressed,— Callum said with a teasing grin. —I’d even go so far as to say you might just be tolerable now.—

Lando rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against Callum’s. —Coming from you, that’s practically a declaration of love. I’ll take it.—

Jack laughed, leaning against the bar. —Don’t get too comfortable, though. This doesn’t mean we’re going easy on you next time.—

—Wouldn’t expect anything less,— Lando replied, his confidence bolstered by the small but meaningful shift in their tone.

Checo, who had been watching the exchange with an amused smile, stepped in to lighten the mood. —Alright, alright, don’t scare him off. He did well today. Let the man enjoy his moment of glory.—

Joe nodded in agreement, raising his glass. —To Lando, for surviving a round of golf with this lot. That’s an achievement in itself.—

The group chuckled, and Lando felt a wave of relief wash over him. The tension that had lingered between him and Amelie’s family for months was finally starting to dissolve, replaced by a sense of camaraderie that felt genuine. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

As they wrapped up their drinks and began to head out, Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a message from Amelie.

Ames💛: How’s my Lan doing? Survived the gauntlet with my dad and the boys yet, or should I start preparing a rescue mission? 😘

Lando couldn’t help but smile as he read the message, his chest warming at the familiar teasing tone. He could picture her perfectly—probably sitting in her trailer on set, her hair done up for the cameras, and that mischievous little smirk she always wore when she was winding him up.

He quickly typed back, his fingers moving over the screen with ease.

Lan🧡: Barely survived, but I think I’m winning them over. Your dad even gave me a compliment—well, sort of. But if you wanna send a rescue mission, I wouldn’t say no. Missing you. 🧡

As he hit send, Callum leaned over his shoulder, peeking at the screen.

—Is that Amelie?— Callum asked, his tone dripping with mock curiosity.

Lando turned off his phone screen quickly, shooting him a glare. —Nosy much, mate?—

—Aw, don’t be shy, lover boy,— Jack chimed in, grinning as he leaned on the bar. —What’s Ames got to say? Probably sending you some motivational speech to keep you from choking in front of us.—

—Actually,— Lando said, straightening up with mock confidence, —she said I’m doing great and that you two should be nicer to me. Direct orders from your sister.—

Callum snorted. —Yeah, right. If anything, she’s probably telling you not to screw it up. Again.—

The playful jab stung, but only for a moment. Lando took it in stride, forcing a grin as he sipped his pint. —Well, I didn’t screw up today, did I? So I guess I’m off the hook. For now.—

—For now,— Elías interjected, stepping back into the group with a calm but firm smile. —But don’t get too comfortable, Lando. This family’s got high standards, and you’ve got a lot to prove.—

Lando nodded, his expression serious now. —I know, sir. And I don’t take that lightly.—

There was a pause, and for a moment, the weight of Elías’s words hung between them. But then the older man’s face softened, and he gave Lando a small nod of approval.

—You’ve done well today, Lando. Keep it up.—

The quiet affirmation felt like a victory, and Lando couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. —Thank you. I will.—

Checo clapped him on the back, breaking the tension with a wide grin. —Alright, let’s not scare the kid off. He’s already survived more than most would with you lot. Let’s call it a win.—

Joe raised his glass in agreement, offering Lando a friendly smile. —Yeah, you’ve earned a bit of a break. For today, at least.—

Lando chuckled, lifting his own glass. —I’ll take it. Cheers, lads.—

As they all clinked their glasses together, Lando’s phone buzzed again. He glanced down to see another message from Amelie, and this time, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.

Ames💛: Proud of you, Lan. And I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you again. 💛

Lando slipped his phone back into his pocket, his heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. The day hadn’t been perfect, but it had been a step in the right direction. And as he stood there, surrounded by her family, he felt a sense of hope that maybe—just maybe—he was finally finding his place again.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Alright, I need to gush about Dandadan for a hot minute…

So this squiggle meister has hopped onto the Dandadan hype train. Ever since its anime adaptation release last year, I’ve been riding the high of my newest anime craze.

Not only am I all caught up on the anime (eagerly awaiting season 2 coming out this year) but I’ve also taken to following the manga; which I’m all caught up on too.

Speaking of which, the newest chapter of Dandadan dropped today - Chapter 181- and I’ve got some things to say about:

Firstly, the return of Unji Zuma. It’s nice to see that the Danmanru Arc wasn’t the last time we’ve seen our Umbrella King.

Zuma’s a cool character. I basically see him as a male Momo since the two share the same stubborn, headstrong yet surprisingly compassionate and loyal personality traits that make them really fun characters to watch further develop. In this squiggle meister’s eyes, Zuma is as much as cool older brother character to Momo as Jiji is.

However, judging by Zuma’s new look in the upcoming arc, I have a sinking feeling the manga is setting us up again for yet another wrench in the ongoing development of the Okarun and Momo love story.

I already made this point over over Twitter but ---

It CANNOT be a coincidence that Zuma, who was described as “Momo’s ideal type” cause he bares a resemblance to her celebrity crush Ken Takakura, now with his hair grown out and sporting a pair of glasses looks like a punk tough guy version of Okarun.

That can't be a coincidence, no? Like I said, I think the manga is setting us up yet again for another fake red herring love triangle and misunderstanding to further push the Momokarun ship into official couple status.

After all, we’re already half way there with Okarun’s recent confession.

Not to mention that last time, during the Space Globalist Arc, after the whole misunderstanding with Vamola, the first time Okarun actually admits to being in love with Momo is while “rejecting” Vamola.

I feel like Zuma is being set up to be Momo’s Vamola, y’know what I mean? I don’t know if Zuma is going to be confirmed to secretly like Momo.

I mean I hope not cause like I said, they have way more sibling energy to me than that of Momo and Jiji and Jiji is literally her childhood best friend and first crush).

But I do hope that Zuma’s presence will provide the catalyst to Momo professing her love for Okarun.

I mean, Zuma did over hear Momo whispering “tell me you love me” in her sleep and he gave her a look.

Surely, that’s got to come back sometime later just as how Momo’s “Lova Ya” note to Okarun came back, right?

While I doubt this will mean that Zuma will develop a romantic interest in Momo, if so is the case then I hope it will lead into Momo turning him down cause she will FINALLY admit that she’s already in love with Okarun.

THIS HAS TO BE WHY ZUMA IS BACK!

Outside of him bringing in a new arc, Zuma is here to be the FINAL PUSH for Momo to admit she loves Okarun. He has to be!

Zuma is literally the embodiment of everything Momo wants in a potential boyfriend. He looks like Ken Takakura. Underneath his tough exterior, he is genuinely courageous and has a benevolent spirit that drives him to go above and beyond for others in his care. Zuma is such a “good guy” that he got a whole school gang of delinquents to rally behind him. He is such a “good guy” that he’s even willing to help the poor Daiki kid with his curse.

I mean Zuma is just a really cool character.

And him being around again rocking dem big glasses and fluffy hair like Okarun is definitely gonna be confusing for Momo. At least that’s what I think.

Either way, I stand by what I said.

I think we’re entering the home stretch to Momo x Okarun being official.

I don’t know how many more arcs and chapters again it will take to get us there but we are getting there.

Zuma is the key.

If he isn’t gonna be yet another lying ass fake "potential love interest" like Aira, Jiji and Vamola all were then at least let him be a “real bro” to Momo.

I know he kinda blind right now but please let Zuma have the emotional wisdom to see through Momo’s BS of stalling her confession to Okarun and give her a firm kick in the ass with dem big Geta sandals he’s got on to get her to FINALLY return her feelings.

Bruh, we are almost to 200 chapters.

We need to see Momokarun canon before Luffy finds the One Piece. While we’re still young and our shipping hearts are still beating.

- LMS (2025)

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

I’ve tried to word and reword this post at least a dozen times. I’m not sure I’ll ever quite capture what Charles means to me in one attempt, but here goes:

That scene on the side of the agency where Charles is asking Edwin what would happen if death caught them was probably the moment I decided I loved him- same hat, I thought. I have racing thoughts and fears of being separated from my loved ones too. 

Same hat.

I didn’t realize what an understatement that was. 

We made it to the Devlin house episode. As Charles talked about his favorite tape being destroyed and struggled through reading the Devlin daughter’s journal, I realized his home life wasn’t as idyllic as he’d wanted us to think. He’d been walking on eggshells- I could relate to that. Sometimes I wonder if he was afraid to tell Edwin because he thought he would love him less. (Sometimes I worry in the back of my mind if I tell anyone, things I did years ago to survive would make them love me less).

My heart went out to him.

Right after that, he must have wondered if he was losing Edwin to Monty. A tiny, tiny piece of me that grew up as no-one’s-best-friend, just-the-afterthought, understood him. I wondered if it would be worse to lose a best friend, actually, than to never have one. I am okay now. But there’s a part of you that is forever worried that you did something wrong.

And next episode his fears are heightened. We see why- he’s never thought he was enough. His home life was brutal. He had friends, but they are what killed him. Nothing he ever did was “enough”, and now he’s sure he’s losing his best friend even though he did everything he could to protect him. 

There’s something about having an abusive parent that makes it hard to scrub the feeling of “never enough” off of you. It’s no one’s fault but theirs, but all I wanted to do was hold him after that. I see why Edwin tried to reach out. 

Charles has never thought he was enough, no matter how many friends or trophies he had. Of course he went into episode five thinking he was a bad person, even though he isn’t (and I’m so glad Edwin told him, with words, he was not a bad person).

Of course he ended episode six worrying he was about to lose his best friend to a boy that just tried to kill them in the woods— or a shape shifter who trapped them in a town across the sea. 

He does lose Edwin- but not to a boy. To Hell.

So Charles braves letting the night nurse look in his mind again. This moment stood out to me as a viewer- we already saw he died because he prevented a hate crime. He tells Edwin he stepped in and stopped the attack because he’s half Indian (I could go on about how much him being biracial meant to me, but I won’t here). He says he is not that different than the boy being beaten. People are right that Edwin has a strong sense of justice- but so too does Charles. Perhaps that’s why they got on so well right away.

So he rescues Edwin from Hell after persuading The Night Nurse. And as he’s rescuing Edwin from Hell, Edwin finally, finally gets to tell Charles what he wanted to say earlier. 

Sometimes people erroneously think Edwin came out to Charles here. That wasn’t quite what happened- the larger arc people often erase in this story is that Edwin Payne confessed that he loved Charles Rowland. How couldn’t you love Charles Rowland, after all of that? 

And Charles meet him as much as he could. He does love Edwin- he just needs time to figure the rest out. But they have literally forever. And honestly, they seemed like they were off to a pretty good start once they weren’t running from a giant spider made of babydoll heads. 

So, Charles, thank you for making me feel seen. Your smile is pretty convincing. I hope you have fun growing the agency with Edwin, and I hope the afterlife is kind while you figure things out together.

[sturniololuvrer]

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔…𝙱𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 — 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 18+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 (1/?)

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗����: shy!, virgin! Matt x fem! reader

𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝: you and the triplets are practically best friends, you met them in LA, where you live. You and Matt unknowingly have feelings for each other, so when they go back to Boston for a whole month, you both realize how strong your feelings really are…

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fluff, smut, male masturbation.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 1,729

𝚊/n: This is my second fic ever! I’m still working on the way I write my plot, but other than that I think I’ve improved! This will be most likely only be two parts…it just depends on how much I decide to write lol. The next part should be out soon…enjoy! xx

You hear the knock on the door of your apartment that you’ve been dreading. Nick, Matt, and Chris are going back to Boston to see their family for an entire month and they’d just arrived to say goodbye to you. You quickly check your appearance in the mirror before padding out of your room to the front door.

You open the door and they file in, the morning light cascading a golden glow on the white walls of your living room. They don’t bother sitting since they’re on their way to the airport already. Nick breaks the silence and hugs you. He was the reason you became friends with all of them in the first place, so you’re closer to him.

“I wish you could come with us.” Nick mutters into your hair with a huff. “Me too…” You say softly as he pulls away. “I couldn’t just get a whole month off of work though.” You snicker softly, trying to lighten the mood. They all chuckle at that and Chris chimes in. “Yeah…I guess that’s the perks of us being our own bosses.”

When he finishes his sentence, he walks up and hugs you as well. As Chris hugs you, you catch Matt’s eyes over his shoulder. He quickly averts his gaze, his cheeks dusting a soft pink. Chris pulls away and sighs, “Okay…we have a flight to catch…”

You nod softly and Nick speaks up. “We’ll text you or call you all the time…well I will at least…” You smile at him, thankful to have a friend as sweet as him. Nick gives you one more quick hug before he and Chris walk out the door.

You think for a moment that Matt might just walk away and leave you here without saying a word, but when he gets to you he wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you as tight as he can without hurting you. You can’t help but gasp at his suddenness, feeling electric shocks everywhere he’s touching.

You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back. After a while, he pulls away, his cheeks red as he realizes what he did. “S- sorry…I’m just gonna miss you…” He says softly, still avoiding your gaze. You smile up at him. “I’ll miss you too…you text me, okay?”

He nods quickly. “We’ll all text you. I promise.” As he finishes, you both hear Nick shouting from the car. “Let’s go, Matt! We’re gonna miss our flight!” Matt’s eyes widen as if he forgot he has somewhere to be. He quickly pulls you into another hug.

“Bye…We’ll tell you when we board and land.” You nod softly as he pulls away. “Okay…have fun. See you later…” He gives you a smile before walking out the door and getting in the car. Nick hangs his head out the back window, waving and yelling goodbyes as Matt starts to drive, making you laugh and do the same as they disappear. You stand in the doorway for a few moments before sighing and heading back inside.

About a week later, you’re lying in your bed on your day off, staring at the ceiling. You’d usually be hanging out with the triplets on days like this, but they’re still in Boston. You huff, you thought you’d be missing Nick the most, but all you can think of is Matt. You’ve had feelings for him for so long, but you never thought you’d be in a state like this where you weren’t able to ignore them. But right now, for some reason, all you want to do is be near him.

You start to get frustrated, not liking the feelings coursing through you. So, you decide to text one of your friends. You ask if she wants to go out with you and she immediately agrees, rushing to your house.

Your friend does your makeup for you, saying she’s doing her signature ‘getting laid’ look. You groan at that, but let her do as she pleases. She helps you do your hair, leaving it down and just fixing it up. She picks out the shortest, tightest dress in your closet and pairs it with your black heels.

Once your friend deems that you’re ready, she begs you to make a TikTok with her. You begrudgingly agree and she sets her phone up on your vanity and makes you show off your outfit, spinning you around and showing you off like her prized possession as you laugh. You let her post it, thinking nothing of it and you pack your purses and head out to some new club she wants to go to.

Matt is relaxing in his room before bed since it’s later at night for him. He’s mindlessly scrolling through his TikTok feed, bored. His interest is piqued when he sees the video your friend made of you two.

His jaw hangs open at the sight of you and his eyes practically bug out of his head. He’s had feelings for you for some time, but he’s never felt the need to act on them…until now. He doesn’t understand how the 10 second clip of you does it, but he feels a stirring in his pants as he watches it over and over.

After a while, he opens up his messages app, quickly texting you. “Hey, what’re you doing rn?” Your phone buzzes in your purse as you’re sitting at the bar at the club, sipping on a drink. You take it out and your heart skips a beat at the sight of his name.

You open the message, quickly typing a response. “Hey! I’m at the club with my friend. What’s up?” You send a picture of yourself from an angle above your head to show him where you are. You think it’s just a friendly gesture, oblivious to the fact that the top of your tits are pushing out of your dress in perfect view and your thighs are out on display from the short dress, squished slightly from the stool you’re on.

Matt’s mouth goes immediately dry at the sight and he just stares at the photo in shock for what feels like hours. He starts to shakily type out an answer as that previous stirring in his pants turns into an insistent throbbing.

He groans, just giving a haphazard response to end the conversation. “Oh that sounds nice! Have fun and be safe!” You heart his message before sliding your phone back into your purse and going on with your night.

He immediately pulls the picture you sent back up. He feels guilty for it, but he zooms in on your tits, his cheeks flushing. He bites his lip softly, his hips shifting slightly as his pajama pants start to get uncomfortably tight.

Matt swallows hard, his cheeks darkening more as he feels even worse about how hard he’s getting. You’re one of his best friends for fuck’s sake! He can’t just jerk off to you! That’s wrong…right?

He lets out a soft whimper as he continues to stare at the photo of you, wanting so badly to be respectful, but you just look so hot. He groans, unable to take it anymore as he hesitantly pushes his pajama pants down. His black boxers are tented obscenely, a small wet patch already forming where his tip rests.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly pushes his boxers down, his red, leaking cock slapping against his stomach. He inhales sharply as the cool air contrasts harshly to the heat his dick is giving off.

His chest heaves and his cheeks flush as he hesitantly wraps his hand around his shaft. He lets out a soft, desperate noise as he holds his phone up with his free hand to look at the picture of you as he starts to slowly stroke himself.

He huffs, throwing his head back against his pillows as a waves of guilt and pleasure shoot through him. The pleasure outweighs the guilt as he speeds up his hand, letting out soft moans.

He moves his fingers over the photo of you, zooming in on your thighs now, wanting nothing more than to be between them, in any way you’d let him. He slides his thumb over his tip, whimpering as he spreads his precum over his cock.

He pants harshly, all the guilt leaving his body as he pumps himself faster, pushing his thumb over his tip with every stroke. He bites his lips harshly to muffle his noises, his phone falling from his hand and landing face down on his upper chest.

His noises get louder as he strokes faster, bucking his hips up into his hand as he mewls. He tightens his fist around himself, pushing his thumb against his tip harder.

He gets even louder, hoping his family is asleep as he can’t seem to hold them in. After a few more strokes, he starts to feel that familiar build in his lower stomach, his thighs tensing. He fists his sheets with his now free hand, his eyes shut tight as he imagines your mouth on him or you bouncing on him instead of his own hand touching him.

His noises get whinier as he gets closer, his hips bucking even faster into his fist. “F- fuck ’m so- close-“ He whispers into the air as if you’re actually there. Soon, he’s gasping out a needy whimper of your name as he cums, bucking into his hand forcefully as he paints his stomach and hand white.

He pants harshly as he comes down, giving himself a few more lazy strokes before letting himself go. He lies there for a few moments, feeling like an idiot for jerking off to you before getting up and going to the bathroom, cleaning himself off.

When he comes back, he puts on a fresh pair of boxers and slides back into bed. He picks up his phone from the bed and it’s still on his messages with you. He thinks nothing of it before he looks closer and realizes he’s sent a four minute voice message to you 5 minutes ago.

He almost screams as he clicks it and hears himself moaning. He frantically moves to unsend the message, but he looks down and sees the read receipt. You’d seen it the minute he’d sent it.

“SHIT!”

𝚊/n: I really enjoyed writing this one! Part two should be out soon! Let me know if you want to be tagged in it or if you have any ideas for it! As always, any critiques or tips on my works and layout are always appreciated! I’ll try to answer any asks and comments left as well! Thanks! xx

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi!! Can’t believe ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ is almost over, what a giant masterpiece it is.

At least we still have more long fics like 🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 ⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️ and 🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 to look forward to.

Some extra motivation for whichever chapter you’re prioritizing most now 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

And since you mentioned a secret fic, here’s some ❓❓❓❓❓ emojis to motivate you on that as well.

OH YAY FUN! Thank you!

Thank you for saying that about TWATYTK! It's been a journey with that one for sure.

15 for ⚡️:

---

He pulls out of his own phone, snapping far too many photos of Brooke mushing her tiny portion into her face. Lots of it misses her mouth. Red and black icing smears over her cheeks and nose.

Buck pouts. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yay!” She cheers again. 

Chim returns to the room and pulls Maddie aside. His face looks serious. Buck notices Hen watching them. 

“What’s that about?” He asks her. 

“Uh… I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Hen admits. But Buck can tell there’s more to the story. 

---

HELL YES for the long fics! These three and many more to come after them.

15 for 🔼:

---

Eddie drops his stuff in various places and flops down on the bed. The moment his head hits his pillow, his phone starts to buzz. It’s the vibration pattern he has specifically set for Shannon or Chris. One that says definitely pick up this call. Eddie sighs, sits back up, and reaches for his phone on the nightstand. Christopher’s name flashes across the screen. He’s Facetiming him from his computer. Eddie pulls himself together and answers the call.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says when he picks up. “How was your day?”

But he immediately sees that Christopher’s expression is not a happy one. Not at all.

“Whoa, hey,” Eddie frowns. “Chris, are you okay?”

---

15 for ⚖️

---

Point is, he’s sort of hesitant about this call. Though, somewhat relieved, regardless. A strange combination of feelings bouncing around his tired body.

When they arrive there, it’s clear whatever happened was a bit more complicated than they’d been expecting. It’s Hollywood Boulevard proper. Like, Walk of Fame. There seem to be three main women involved. The police have one in handcuffs, holding as she shrieks, trying to guide her towards the back of a cruiser. It looks like she’s been scratched with long nails, and had her hair pulled out. Another is screaming at her, being held back by an officer, who is trying to help her where she’s bleeding from several superficial looking puncture wounds. Like there was a very halfhearted attempt at stabbing. She’s also got some scratch marks. The third woman is on her hands and knees, puking. Puking directly on Arnold Schwarznegger’s Hollywood Walk of Fame star. Great. 

---

15 for 🌲

---

“I don’t understand,” Eddie says, poking at the spot.

“Uh, neither do I,” Buck says, walking over to join him. “It was there earlier.”

“I saw,” Eddie confirms. “I… What changed in the past few hours?”

“I-I don’t know,” Buck says. “Adriana thought you expended too much energy to come back from Sweden. M-maybe you… Rested?”

“Maybe,” Eddie agrees. “I don’t feel rested.”

“So much for putting you in a pot and bringing you around,” Buck mumbles. Nervous mumbling.

---

Ohhh for 🎁 I am prioritizing ⚖️ most, because I think I'm close to be able to start posting it.

15 for ⚖️:

---

It’s worth nothing, as bad as the scene looks, Buck’s ability to see everyone’s auras is giving him some different information. For example, the most concerning aura belongs to the woman who has been hurt the most. The one with superficial stab wounds. She seems to have done the least injuring today, but perhaps not in the past. The woman puking isn’t far behind her. And the woman being pulled into the cop car, seems sort of neutral. Like she could go either way. Good or bad, depending on the day. Well, he dated a lovely reporter like that. Now that’s an aura he’s curious to see…

Buck and Eddie handle the woman with the stab wounds while Hen and Chim take the puking woman, checking for signs of a head wound or something else.

“THAT BITCH!” The woman is screaming in the police car’s direction. “THAT TOTAL FUCKING BITCH!”

---

and for ❓ - I shall write 15 sentences! While I cannot share the whole thing, I will share the last sentence :)

---

All for the good of the lie.

[bradshawsbaby]

I’m super exhausted, so I’m off to go murder my pillow 😴 I’m hoping I’ll be able to work on more celebration requests tomorrow!

[formerprincewille]

Something that really sets Wille and Simon apart from other queer ships is that when we say their love language is physical touch, IT REALLY IS PHYSICAL TOUCH. And I’m not speaking of just sex. Over the course of the show, the amount of touching between them is astronomical. And that’s really something rarely seen in queer media. There may be moments here or there, but often times there’s a lack of physical contact unless it’s for “the plot”. Wille and Simon feel like a real couple in the way they’re always physically reaching out for each other.

[tariah23]

One of the main reasons why I used to avoid Isekai’s, and fantasy works in general, like the plague is because of how over saturated they’d become with things that didn’t feel like they even belonged to the genre to begin with… it’s not too hard to find works that stand out but so much of those works have been pushed down and forgotten, it just sucks.

[ofmermaidstories]

ON MY HANDS AND KNEES. GRUNKLE STAN FIC. OLD PEOPLE ROMANCE. SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE??

i am in ur face anon. i am breathing in ur stale air. listen to me. we are gripping hands tightly with our fingers intwined and i am whispering this to you. i am pleading this against ur lips. do not do this to me.

[beesorcery]

hello it's part 3 of 3 for my cool fun graphic design adventure!! part 1 and part 2 got too long. to recap i am recreating this t-shirt design but with the magic 8 ball songs instead of city names:

here is the current draft, updated through 3/27 (pittsburgh) (!!!!)

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…