#but yeah. I do like crafts and I'm good at them. I like making things and I've been making things for a very long time.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

So I've. Basically been doing nothing but sleeping the last two days. Um. Either the sleep debt was way worse than I thought it was or not taking the meds (12 hour tablets seemed like a bad idea when I just wanted to sleep) amplified what sleep debt I already had. Which is... new? Anyway.

Made me smile coming back to this in my inbox fuck yeah Halloween approaches and I'm gonna start stockpiling some stuff!!! Gonna have fun trick virtual trick or treating this year!!! And yeah oh by oh boy do I have a lot of trick or treat asks to send to those who reblogged from me hooray!!!

... Later though. I really really want to dive into making bracelets now that the Submechanophobia Wiki is complete and I've successfully cut through a fly swatter. It's bracelet time baby

[neverendingford]

.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[theelvishfiddler]

AN ARTIST'S GUIDE TO HANDS

No, sorry it's actually not an artist's guide to drawing hands. Those are just warmup studies (which I'll talk about in this post.)

This is a guide to Your Hands and how to take care of them when making art.

No one ever sits down and teaches artists how to take care of their hands. They didn’t even teach me this while I was in art college. This is just what I've learned myself through years of pain and scouring the internet for advice.

This is going to be a long one and geared towards illustrative traditional/digital/pen/pencil artists specifically, but artists of other mediums and crafts should take care of their hands too! Well, we all should take care of our bodies in general, but this is about hands.

(advice is below the read more)

First off I'm not a professional or anyone with actual medical advice. I'm just some guy with chronic hand pain who makes art. This advice is free for you to use or discard.

WARMUPS!

Ever sit down in the morning to draw and wonder why your art is so stiff and looks so much worse than what you were drawing last night? It's because you didn't warm up!

You know how for physical sports they all warmup and do stretches before getting into the actual sport. To prevent injuries and all that? Yeah, it's good to do that for art too.

One way to warmup is to just draw lines. Try to keep them as straight as you can. Going up and down and diagonal. Draw squares. Big squares. Small squares. Circles! You are warming up, keep it loose and relaxed! Basically just scribble away.

(examples. I usually keep going until there is no paper white left. This can double as practice for drawing straight lines without a ruler, which is a great skill to have when freehand city drawing.)

Before hopping right into drawing people you can try doing some quick gesture drawings. Line of Action has timed sessions with a large variety of clothed or nude models. I usually do the 30 min class as it has a nice balance of short and long timed poses. The point isn't to draw nice art, but to warm up. Try to get the basic form down, not the details. I find that doing a full class session can really help my drawings feel more loose and grounded in reality for the rest of the day.

Some examples I found in my folders. I suggest looking into what a line of action (not the site) is and giving it a try with some of the studies!

COOLDOWNS!

For sports it's to return your body back to your everyday baseline after a workout.

Example; you are working on a big project! A masterpiece! It's detailed and cool! You have been focusing on this for hours and drawing so intensely. But you need to stop working for the day.

A cooldown is for winding down out of the go go go mindset. Put away the big project and do a couple small doodles and sketches. You are relaxing your hand and letting it stretch out. Keep the sketches loose. Let the art happen slowly. Don't polish anything, that can happen another day. Just ease yourself out of drawing.

...

Cool! Now we get into the meat of this thing.

HAND PAIN

How to avoid it and how to manage it if you already have it.

I love you artists and creatives, I am begging you to please take care of your most important creative tools. I really don't want this to sound like scare tactics like "oooh you better do this or blah blah!" Nope. I just had to learn all this the hard way and I'm extremely passionate about it.

Take this advice or don’t ╮(ﾟ～ﾟ;)╭ I can't tell you what to do, I'm not your dad

Adjustments and Small Solutions

If you are feeling physical discomfort while drawing there are many different solutions to try! Here are some suggestions that may or may not work for you.

Hold your pencil more loosely. Stop gripping that thang so tightly!!! Relax that hand! They make these… squishy pen grip things... I think they are called Adaptive Pencil Grips or Adaptive Writing/Drawing Aids? They stop your hand from being all cramped up by making your drawing tool wider. It's going to take a bit of time to adjust to drawing with it, but it's worth it for those who hold pencils too tightly.

Don't press as heavily. For traditional art, if you find yourself pressing really hard to get darker lines try moving to a softer pencil. Most standard pencils are HB, the B pencils have softer graphite. Experiment until you find the right one for you. For Digital, adjust your pressure settings so you don't have to press as hard to get thicker lines. You should not be pressing so hard all the time, it wears out both your hand and your tablet! It takes a bit of time to adapt to pencil or pressure changes. Try doing some unimportant sketches, they don't have to be good. You are just training your hand and mind to adjust using less pressure.

Draw with your arm and not your wrist! It's small repetitive motions that cause the most strain. You probably hear this one a lot, what does it even mean? It means moving your arm with the motions of your line, and trying not to make too many tiny movements with your just your fingers or wrist. This one is hard! It takes time and conscious thought to change the habit. Tips? Work bigger. Zoom in more. Use bigger sheets of paper.

(Motions exaggerated for a clearer example)

Change the angle of your drawing surface. They make angled tablet holders, angled desks, angled desktop raisers. Experiment, find and angle that is comfortable and the one that causes the least pain. (It's also good to make sure you don't have to hold your head at an uncomfortable angle when drawing. Staring straight down or hunching over a paper flat on the table can cause pain!)

Compression Glove? Wrist brace/tensioners? Some folks use them and I've been thinking of getting one for years now. I can't give advice on this one, because I don't have experience with it. Look into it if you want!

Managing Pain

First things first.

IF YOUR HANDS START TO HURT WHILE YOU ARE DRAWING. STOP! Put the pencil/pen/paintbrush/whatever down. The art will still be there for you to continue tomorrow.

I know from experience that it's extremely hard to pull away when you are hyper focused on an art piece. It's hard to remember all sorts of basic needs like food or bathroom when hyper focused. But you Need to stop when you feel that pain. (Preferably even before the pain…)

Take Breaks! Let your hands rest when you can. Just like a machine, if you don't schedule maintenance, the machine will schedule maintenance for you. Often that means having to wait a few days for it to return to functional. Best to take a day off from heavy usage or take an occasional 30 min break throughout the day to let your hands rest.

Stretching is important! Full body stretches are good; your arms, shoulders, neck, and spine are all connected, but I'm specifically talking about HAND and wrist stretching. There are a lot of stretches and massages for carpal tunnel and arthritis out there. I find they work for hand pain in general. Move into and out of each stretch slowly. Do not push a stretch if it hurts!! Be gentle!!

I am not a qualified professional and I will not be giving out specific stretches (that is beyond my personal comfort level). There are other artists out there who have made helpful stretching info-graphics which are cool, but I will not be because i don't want to be responsible for someone accidentally hurting themself. Ask your doctor for stretches & advice or look some up on your own.

Don't feel bad about forgetting to stretch frequently! Of course it is good to do it regularly and frequently, but I would be a hypocrite if I said that I remember to stretch daily. Setting timers for stop and stretch sessions can work for some people, but also doing stretches whenever you remember is fine! If you are sitting on the toilet you can idly do some hand stretches. On the bus? Laying in bed? At the beach? Do a couple stretches! Even just once a week is better than… nonce a week.

Using Cold or Heat to treat pain. If you really overdid it, put your hands in some cold water or wrap a cloth around an ice pack and apply it to your hand. Cold works best for me, but warmth works for others. This is just pain reduction and reducing inflammation from overuse! This is not a permanent solution.

If your hand hurts a lot! Frequently! Talk to your doctor? Idk mine has never given real advice. Just gently poked my hand and told me there isn't much to be done about it :/ but there are really good doctors out there who will care and give helpful advice!

Again. IF IT HURTS TO CONTINUE DRAWING. STOP DRAWING! This is not a "no pain no gain" type situation. Drawing so much that you hurt yourself isn't noble, it's just… limiting yourself. You only get one set of hands. These things are very handy to have.

Other Advice

Things I couldn't figure out how to fit into the earlier sections.

Your other hand can't handle the strain! Lets say you hurt your drawing hand... the other hand is right there free to use for art. Right? Wrong. Your other hand can't keep up with the demand, it hasn't been trained to the same extent as your dominant hand, it does not have the built up muscle. If you want to use that hand for drawing you are going to have to use it s l o w l y and train it bit by bit over a long period of time. When I tore a tendon in my right hand I decided to just keep drawing with my left and I got Really Good at it. It only took like two months before my left hand hurt too much to move. Then I had 0 functioning hands to pull up my pants. Not fun!!

People who draw on phones. That is extremely impressive! I'm amazed by the things people can create on such a small space. But phone artists are the ones I see most frequently mentioning hand pain. please please please make sure you are taking breaks. Would a stylus work instead of using a finger?

Outside of Drawing. Sometimes it's things outside of drawing that are causing the pain. For me there are multiple sources, but I also have tiny baby hands. Holding a phone too long causes pain. The handheld mode for my Switch causes A Lot of pain. The way my hand rests while typing on my laptop hurts! Playing tense videogames for too long hurts! Find the source of your pain and make some changes. The same things will apply to most; take regular breaks, do some stretches, and find soft things to prop up or rest your arms on.

Change your Artstyle. This one is more of a last resort. You might have to change your art style if you are getting sharp pains every time you draw. I loved drawing tight clean lines and many small fancy details, but drawing like that left me in so much pain at the end of the day. In 2023 I had to take the better part of year off from illustrations just to learn how to sketch and draw more loosely. I had to learn how to be gentle. To stop gripping my pencil so tightly. Learn! Adapt! You might discover a new style that you love even more!

A lot of this stuff gets more complicated in a work setting where you have to draw fast and long in order to get paid. Things like reducing your workload can help, but that can be... financially rough. But outside of that, it’s ok to be a slow artist. Going full steam and hurting yourself is not worth it.

Aaaaaanyway, thats all folks. Today's rant brought to you by me! The guy with chronic hand pain who always forgets to stretch! The guy who got frustrated with a sketch yesterday and decided to push to keep drawing for just one more hour! The guy who woke up this morning and had to spend 2 hours massaging and stretching their hands. The guy who probably shouldn't have typed all of this out because ooww ow ouch

If your hands do hurt, it's going to be ok! You don't need to be a speed demon who draws all the time. It's ok to take your time and take frequent breaks. You are going to do great things! Just be gentle with yourself...

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from men? How are you not advocating a belief in male socialization which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic knots that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Sneaking out for my boyy !!´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x fem!iris!reader Synopsis: A daughter of Iris sneaks to he boyfriends cabin at 1am. Word Count: 899

You hated the night. They were so dark, you can see barely see anything and it was too quiet. The only good thing about them was that you could just go to sleep and skip through them. Except for tonight. You spent hours and hours tossing and turning, but no luck. You couldn't sleep, and it was like a lightbulb flashed over your head. Make a visit to your favorite camper, or boyfriend, Percy Jackson.

With that, you got up and slipped on a hoodie and snuck out your cabin. The night breeze sent chills down your spine as you did your best not to alert the harpies. Finally after a chilling little adventure in the dark, you finally see the famous trident banner residing in front of the Poseidon cabin. When you walked up and knocked on the door, you heard a thump from the inside inside. "What the hades" you thought. And after a quick moment, the door opened revealing your shaggy haired boyfriend.

"Oh my gods, its 1am I don't know why it didn't click that you'd be asleep" you mentally face palmed at your sudden realization.

"Hey it's fine, I'm glad you're here, cabin gets kinda lonely you know" he smiled and looked at you sheepishly.

"Yeah I get that" you said as he moved aside and let you in. Both of you walked to bed and laid down beside each other, engulfing one another in each others arms. This was the best way to get you to sleep. Percy had his chin resting above your head just enjoying your presence while looking out the window. While observing the outside that's when he noticed something outside.

Now before you knew it, Percy was shaking you awake. "Y/N, Y/N, wake up" as he rumbled you awake you looked up at him. You see him looking out the window with a look of 'oh my gods' on his face. Confused you got up to see what he was looking at and you couldn't believe it.

"A rainbow" you gasped from absolute delight "in the night sky!" You were grinning from ear to ear. You were a daughter of Iris, the goddess of not only messaging, but also rainbows. So seeing rainbows always made you feel ecstatic, it was like feeling closer to your mother. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah it is" Percy said as he turned over to you and stared with a sleepy, closed eyed grin. After about two minutes you turned to Percy, who was still staring at you like you yourself put the rainbow in sky, not your goddess mother.

You were both staring into each others eyes when you both grabbed each others faces and pulled one another in and kissed each other. As you guys continued to make out, you kept leaning into your boyfriend until you both fell over. Him on his back with you straddled on top.

It was a long night.

After sneaking into Percy's cabin you forgot to leave and ended falling asleep. Additionally, you also forgot about an arts and crafts lesson you were supposed to have with some of the younger campers at 10am.

It was now 10:30am and Chiron was doing his rounds around camp, making sure everyone was at their respective duties. That's when he noticed all the younger campers still waiting by their crafts tables for instructions. "My my, why aren't we doing some crafting young ones" Chiron inquired.

"Well we're still waiting for Y/N to show up" said one of the little Aphrodite campers.

"Interesting, I'll go look for her now" and with that, Chiron went on his why to the Iris cabin. And to his surprise, the cabin was outrageous empty. You were no where in sight. When he began to leave the cabin, he noticed a close friend of yours. Silena Beaurengard.

"Hello Ms. Silena, do you happen to know of Ms. Y/N's where abouts" Chiron questioned the head Aphrodite counselor.

"Um, no actually. I was wondering where she was, but try asking Percy, he normally knows where she is. I think he's still at his cabin" said Silena, before continuing what she was previously doing.

Skeptical, Chiron walked toward the Poseidon cabin. As he looked around, making his eyes towards his clearly filled bed. He let out a sign when he saw Y/N's hair peeking from the covers and the cabin a mess. They were a rambunctious pair Chiron liked to say, this isn't what he meant though. That's when Chiron knocked harshly on the doorway, startling the both awake.

That's when they both realized the situation they were in, though they didn't say anything. The silence was awkward to say the absolute least. "Y/N, campers are waiting for you at arts and crafts, we will deal with the both of your punishments later" and with that, Chiron slammed the door leaving the room with a thick tension. It was quickly cut as Percy started laughing next to you, causing you to slap his arm. Of course you were unable to hide your smile, causing the both of you to laugh together.

"We're screwed" you said, and Percy gave you that stupid grin that oh so adore. "Stop looking at me like that." And with that you both went to get dressed, but you knew that this was going to be a long day.

[akxmee]

𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗨𝗣. //𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎.

choso x stalker!reader

She was obsessed with her cute neighbour, so she always made excuses to enter his house. He knew it, and still let her in.

14k words.

Tw: creepy things stalkers do, mentions of locking people in, obsession. There's no +18 scenes, only a few heated kisses.

'Choso Kamo.'

That's the name of one of your computer's documents. It was the last among the rest of the files, locked with a password and completely secured.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let's put it like this. Everyone has a favorite thing, don't they? Kids have a favorite ice cream flavour, teenagers have a favorite TV show they always watch no matter what, adults have their favorite company to make deals with... Well, you had a favorite too. It was Choso Kamo, your adorable neighbour who moved in next to your house not so long ago.

He was your favorite person, your favorite hobby.

Collecting photos of him was something creepy and you felt bad for it at first, but he looked so cute playing with his cats in them that you started to enjoy having little albums in your carpet about him. You even dedicated a whole schedule to the man; writing down when he worked out, whenever he ate, when he started drawing as he usually did thrice a week..he was just so perfect, so made for you.

Yeah. If god exists, he made Choso just for you.

Fate has intertwined you two the moment he became your neighbour, you were so sure of that. Not only was he totally your type, you guys had a lot in common!

You two liked cats, you liked the same bands, you both liked the same food, enjoyed the same shows, read the same genres when it came to books..you even started to like crafting too when you first saw him working on something at his garden! Yes, the look on his eyes as he sawed the wood, the sweat on his forehead falling as he drove the screws and the exhausted breaths he left as he carried those heavy pieces into his house drove you head over heels, so now you like crafting too! Not because of the hobby itself, but because choso looked so good doing it that you may aswell like the days he crafts something.

Besides, it was tha reason you were working right now. A lemonade with a refreshing effect, that's what you were making for your hardworking neighbour. You added the perfect amount of ice that you knew he loved, pouring the liquid in a cute vase and heading to his home to pay him another visit.

Yeah, another visit.

You visited his house frequently, always having a excuse to do so. And somehow, he was kind enough to always let you enter! Now you both were in "friendly neighbour terms", but you wished to get even closer. Because you could pat his shoulder, but you wanted to hold his hand and because you could talk to him, but you craved to kiss him. Everything you desired was proximity, closeness, being able to call him withouth making any dumb excuse.

But that was something that required patience and insistence, just how you were being right now.

—Y/N? Is something the matter?

Ah, that sound got you out of your trance. You looked up, finding choso who just opened the door. He looked so damn good, and you melted just by the way his tired eyes focused on your figure.

—Not really. I could hear the saw from my house, so..

He scratched the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic smile.

—I figured you did, sorry. I'm crafting some furniture for my house.

You shook your head.

—No, no! It's okay, I understand. I knocked just to give you this, you looked...—Your eyes analyzed him, fighting the urge to drop any compliment. —..exhausted, and i thought you would enjoy this.

The black haired man looked at your hands only to see you offering him the vase of lemonade. He raised his eyebrows, his lips curved in what almost seemed like a cute smile for a second. He grabbed the vase you gave him.

—That's so thoughtful of you, thanks.

He smiled, you nodded.

—Want to come in so i can give you a drink in return?

That's what you were waiting for.

Choso was always so kind, letting you enter his house for food or games whenever you did something for him. That's his way of payment, since you knew he had issues with money and couldn't afford to pay you whenever you helped him change his lights, shelves or doors (he never asked for your help, however you somehow casually just happened to pass by whenever he was struggling with something like that). You always reassured him that it was fine, but he still insisted on having you over for dinner or lunch.

You smiled.

—Yeah, that would be nice.

He let you in, and you sat on his sofá while he brought something for you to drink. Minutes later he came, sat down next to you and gave you a cup of tea.

—Not as refreshing as the lemonade, but I promise it's good.

He handed it to you and you thanked him as a result. You gave it a sip and a surprised expression appeared on your face. He noticed that and asked:

—Is something wrong with the tea?

You instantly shook your head, resting the cup on your lap.

—Nothing at all! It's just, this is my favorite tea.

—It is? It's my favorite tea too.

He laughed at your reaction, as you smiled sweetly at him. To him, you were a cute girl he had for a neighbour that he could rely on when he needed help with his home or ask for help when it came to baking something for his little brother whenever he would visit and also a great companion he liked to have around since you were sweet and fun, but that's just his impression of you. He didn't know you were as awful as he was when it came to baking but mastered it just for him, he didn't know you found boring changing lightbulbs and only found fun the time spent with him and neither was he aware of the fact that you weren't giggling because you thought he was funny, but because you were so excited about having another thing in common with him.

The evening went great, you both laughed and updated eachother with gossip from your neighbourhood. You were making progress day by day, and you could feel It by the way he seemed more and more casual as the visits kept happening. He was growing more comfortable with you, and you were loving it! Choso talked to you about his brother Yuji, about how life working as an artist was and even showed you some photos —which you already saw, but now that he was the one showing them to you they looked even prettier—, he also asked about how to make Apple pies and more.

But that's not one of the main of reasons you came here for.

—Hey, Choso?

He hummed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

—Could I use the bathroom?

He looked at you, then pointed at the hall.

—The last door, the one on the right wall.

You already knew that, but thanked him anyways and went on your way there. You counted the Doors: one, two..then the third one. That's the one you're looking for.

Not because it was the bathroom, no.

Because it was his bedroom.

You entered the room, checking every corner you never saw through the window. He had a small computer on the desk, a few clothes on the floor, school items scattered all over the sheets of the bed such as a few pencils, notes, papers and more to be seen. Looking at the walls, you found several posters and pictures he made along with photos of him and his family: most of them were with yuji, his little brother, at places like a lake, his first day of kindergarten, at a sleepover...you found yourself smiling because of that, he was just so perfect. You had to capture this place, the place that held the most of his personality out of this home. Just a picture, only to visualize what kind of things he likes or what kind of furniture he's more fond of. You just needed a picture, something to have as a reference to analyze him, and it was as simple as clicking a single button of the mini polaroid you carried in your purse. However, as your hand reached for your purse to grab it...

—I think you're at the wrong bathroom, aren't you?

You froze.

Right behind you was Choso, the owner of the voice, leaning on the frame of the door while looking at you waiting for an answer. You weren't even facing him and you could already feel the grin on his face while he talked to you. Did he find out? Did he know the reason you entered his room? A lot of questions ran through your mind in a span of seconds. You tried to keep calm telling yourself things such as "no, how could he ever know? He wouldn't have let me in if he did" or "it's imposible for him to know I had a camera, since I didn't even get to grab it" and eventually, you had the courage to turn around to make visual contact with him and make up a lie.

—I'm sorry, got distracted in the way.

He kept quiet, letting you continue talking since he was not satisfied with your answer. You turn your gaze to the walls of the room, finding a lot of artpieces he made. You looked at him again, pointing at them with your eyes to let him know what you were going to refer to.

—I just wanted to see them up close. You showed me through photos, but i never thought they would be so...detailed. It's truly beautiful.

He seemed to be taken back by your answer.

—You think so?

—I really do. You're a great artist, Choso.

The black haired male looked like he bought your excuse. He looked actually touched by your lie and you obviously knew why; that's why you chose to lie with it in the first place. Choso was never validated as an artist, being always told that he could do so much better if he studied something like economy or science. Nobody really complimented his art withouth mentioning how it, as good as it is, should be kept as a hobby instead of dedicating his whole life to it because it just wouldn't really make a lot of money. He knew that, but still chose that life ignoring people's words. However, sometimes it was imposible to ignore it and he somehow became insecure when people gave his art compliments, since he didn't really know if they meant them or if they think the same as the rest.

And that's exactly what you knew that he was thinking right now.

—You're not going to say anything else?

He expected you to throw your advice now. He was expecting you to say something among the lines of "it's beautiful, but I personally wouldn't dedicate my whole career to it", waiting for something hurtful like it always happens. He waited and waited, and you finally talked.

—Yeah, I do.

He mentally sighed. Oh, he was a fool for believing that you could be different just because you were his friend. Choso ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs a little.

However, you proved him wrong.

—Since you draw so good, could you teach me one day? I really need it for this project at school, so i thought that maybe you...

You kept talking, but he stopped hearing whatever you were saying. Choso's expression suddenly stiffened, he gulped and his jaw tensed as you kept going on something he lost a few seconds ago. His eyes lit up with a complete different light, and he took a few steps towards you.

Noticing his silence and the way he walked to you, you grew worried. You did know that this was a sensible topic for him and already planned how his reaction would be, but this was not what you expected as he looked so intimidating while he slowly made his way towards you.

—I'm sorry, did I talk too much? Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you don't have to actually say yes.

He grabbed you by the shoulders with such force you did not expect from him. Fuck, you messed up didn't you?

By the way he was looking at you, yes the hell you did.

That's the least you ever wanted, honestly. Choso hating you for touching some personal topic was the worst thing that could happen to you. You just complimented him, so why? He was frowing, his muscles tense, his body language indicated that he was nervous and his expression showed he was deep in thought. You wondered how did you even manage to get him like that, to get him to shift his personality like that. One minute he was touched by your words, now he was looking at you like you were something new to his eyes.

And you were, he just wasn't showing it how he should've.

Why? Because he never received this type of trait from someone. Something as simple as that, he never experienced it even though he craved for it for so long.

—What are you doing?

He asks you, his tone demanding for an answer.

—What?

You answer, and there's seconds of plain silence until he talks again.

—To me.

That tone.

That soft tone and cracked voice as he whispered with such tenderness, urging you for an answer desperately.

Now you understood, looking up at him and figuring out his expression. His grip on you was not because he was angry, but because he didn't want you to run away from his question. His frown was not because he was angry at you, but because he was trying to figure himself out. His shaky hands and body language was not screaming at you to stop talking, but to keep doing so.

You finally broke him down.

It took you months worth of visits, weeks and weeks of effort to make this man finally see in you what you see in him. You relaxed.

—You finally see it, don't you?

Your hand traced his jawline softly, watching him close his eyes as he leans into your touch like a puppy. This was all you ever wished, to have him like this. If you knew it only took a few compliments, some deep talks about life the nights after you help him fix his garden and making him some food from time to time to make him finally look at you like this, you would have done it sooner. But once again patience is key, so you don't complain now that he opens his eyes and adverts his gaze towards you in such a delicate way.

—I do.

You grin.

—That's good.. that's good. How about you and I, having dinner at a restaurant tonight? Let's get to know eachother.

He hesitates at first but then nods, according to your words.

—Sounds like a good plan.

You already know everything about him, but the idea of having a date seemed so casual and so cute you couldn't help but cheer internally. How would it be? Would he dress and look handsome for tonight? Would you two share your first kiss then? Would he lend you his jacked if it's cold? God, you were so excited! He was just the perfect man, choso had everything you ever wanted and that's all that mattered. It's okay if it rains, choso will cover you from the water. Doesn't matter if your heels tire you, choso will carry you home. It's also okay if you don't like the food at the restaurant, choso will surely share his with you. He actually will, because you know everything about him when it comes to a relationship too. It only took creating a fake account and pretending to be some random girl to ask his exes how he was in a relationship. You had to be informed of what you would be getting into, of course!

They all agreed that the man in front of you was a true romantic, detail-oriented and above all very observant of his partner. Aside from that, the complaints that caused them to break up were each one different from the other. However, when it came to complaints or the reason they broke up, each was different so you didn't have anything to base yourself on.

But oh, you were rushing things again weren't you? You two didn't even have a first date, and you were already thinking about how you would be as a couple! You'll see when the time comes.

—Then, I'll leave and you come pick me up at 9. I'll look pretty for you, so look handsome for me.

He looked at you with certain surprise.

—You'll leave?

—Well, yes. You don't want me to look like this at the date, no?

You signaled to yourself, making him look at your simple dress and face with a casual makeup. You wished to look pretty and have an elaborated makeup to your date, and he seemed to catch up. Choso shook his head.

—That's what I thought. I'll see you at nine, then?

—Yeah.

Yet, his grip on your shoulders didn't cease. You gave him a few seconds to let you go, but he didn't.

—Choso?

He looked to the side, and a slight blush could be seen on his cheeks.

—I'm sorry, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable but..can I at least get a goodbye?

Oh, oh.

You were speechless for a second, did he just ask for you to kiss him that politely? Then you chuckled, making him look at you with an embarrassed expression. His grip on you disappeared, and he covered half of his face with his hand for you not to see the shame in his face.

—Nevermind, i'm taking things too far. I'll see you at nine.

He didn't even have the chance to run away from the situation when you grabbed the collar of his sweater and gently pulled on it to get him closer, giving him a little peck on the lips. Choso was the one to quickly pull away in surprise, but soon he realized what just happened and leaned back again for another one since he wasn't satisfied with that little taste. He grabbed cupped your cheek with one hand while his lips collided with yours in a way that you weren't even upset your first kiss isn't at the date. The feeling was almost as if they were giving you something that you have been longing for for a long time, something that you have only had the pleasure of imagining becomes a reality.

Then you pulled away, in need of air.

—That's enough for a goodbye, isn't it?

He looked at you in silence, panting as he catched his breath. Soon after, his lips were on yours again with more intensity than before, dancing a tango of emotions where the music increased with each gasp of air. Eventually his hand found the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and his tongue explored your mouth with a lot of ease. He seemed to have a lot of experience, while you were left trying to catch up on his rythm.

—Not enough. Five more minutes and you go, please.

He pleaded when you separated before kissing you again. You didn't even have time to say yes, but the way you reciprocated the kiss told him more than enough. Soon enough his other hand found your waist and guided you out of the room, through the hall. His bedroom had this huge window —which you were really thankful for, by the way. It always gave you such a good view of him when you were looking at him through your window—, and he didn't want anyone looking at you two since it was an easy thing to do, so he guided you through the hall to another room between heated kisses with your fingers tangled in his hair. You ended up with your back against the wall while Choso took some keys out of his pocket, opening the door while leaving a trail of light kisses on your neck.

It wasn't strange for him to have a key to a room, since it was a normal thing for people in your neighbourhood to do so since burglasses were quite common so they kept valuable things safe in a room. You guessed he was taking you there since it was a more private area, but you found yourself with a room. Not enough time was left for you when you were thrown on a bed, having choso on top of you while pinning one of your wrists above you. You looked at him, who stared back at you intensely.

—Choso, five minutes already passed..

The man looked at you for a few seconds more, like he was admiring you. He looked absolutely breathtaking, His hair was messy, his eyes half open, his breathing altered, and his lips stained with the lipstick you were wearing. You dreamed so many times of this moment, yet you also wished for the date to happen so you couldn't entertain this more.

—I'm sorry, I just can't help It.

He kisses you once again. A soft tender kiss is left in your lips.

—Now that I have you, i can't let you go.

Once again. This kiss seemed to have more emotion than the rest, and it felt like he was devouring you.

—I can't let you go.

And again. Now, the kiss feels desperate and feral, he was kissing you again and again as if he was an animal.

—I can't. You can't go.

You were getting worried about what he was saying, but when you tried to get your wrist out of his hand a metalic sound was heard. You pulled.

CLANK.

You tried to pull again.

CLANK.

—Choso?

You asked, confused.

His hands left your wrist, and then you saw.

You were chained up to the bed.

He got up from the bed, and you tried to do too. However, you failed and almost fell off the bed due to the force of the pull that the metal gave you in reaction to your quick attempt of getting on your feet. He stopped you from falling, sitting you on the bed once again.

—Shh.. it's okay, don't freak out.

—What do you mean don't freak out? Is this some time of kinky roleplay?!

You tried to pull on the chain with your free hand, but it was no use. He scratched the back of his neck nervous, making a face of disappointment.

—Yeah, I figured you wouldn't like this place at first but don't worry, you'll like it eventually. It's pretty, isn't it? Look.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look around, and you found the least thing you could ever expect from this man. How could you not notice this when you entered? There were pictures of you all over the walls, a map of the city and different dots connected on a cardboard. A lot of your pictures were also on a desk, alongside with little hearts drawn of them. There was a part of one of the walls that was completely covered in drawings of your face in different angles, of your body and you doing some of your hobbies. Anyone that looked at it would easily think you were his muse. A computer was opened on the desk that had different recordings of the outsides of your house, and you were sure all of those pendrives scattered near were just about the same thing.

—It looks creepy now, but I'll eventually clean it. You know, you weren't supposed to come here today..—He, still grabbing your face, made you look at him by raising your chin with the intention that you maintain eye contact with him.—I was still making cute furniture for you to enjoy this place..but then i saw it. I saw what you tried to do.

His free hand reached his pocket, taking out your mini polaroid that was supposed to be in your purse. When did he take it? Fuck, it probably was while you two were kissing.

—I saw that you, deep inside, were just as sick as I am. And i couldn't resist it.

Your jaw tensed, but you still talked.

—Why?

He grinned, and his voice came out in a whisper.

—Because i have been waiting for so, so long.

He smiled at your innocence. Did you really think you were being sly with that dirty, little secret of yours? No, Choso had his eye on you for longer than you did. He saw you at work once, then he grew obsessed with you even if you never noticed him. Seeing you at work was not enough, so he eventually bought a House next to yours as if fate wanted him to get closer to you, and noted how to catch your attention. He changed his whole personality into some shy, cute and fun but still serious with black cat aesthetic boy just because he knew it was your type, and even went as far as creating profiles on social media acting like his exs whenever you, with another account he managed to find, asked about how he was in a relationship. That account was simply "asking for a friend", but he knew better than that. He lied to you, telling you just what you wanted to hear about a perfect boy in a relationship and stupid reasons of the breakup each different from another so you wouldn't think he had any specific red flag.

God, you were so adorable that he could lock you up forever.

Except for the fact that he already was.

—No, you're another whole level of sick. You were so normal, we had a lot of things in common..

—But we do! Y/N, look at me.—he brushed a strand of hair off your face, smiling softly.—We have things in common. We're both so in love with eachother, it's okay..

—No, Choso. You were meant for me..

His smile faded.

—I still am.

—No you're not. You were fake.

You were conflicted. You were sick in the head, but he was just another whole level. While you were happy with having him by your side, keeping photos of him and observing the man, he was locking you in. You had absolutely no right to complain, because you were just a little bit less bad than he was even though you were still guilty.

You tried to fool him, and you ended up being fooled.

—You're in denial, Y/N. Everything I am now I will forever be if you like it, I built myself just for you!

He was growing more demanding by minute, his grip on your face increased and you couldn't open your mouth to reply.

—You liked cats, I like cats too. You like some bands? well guess what, i like them too! You like that damn tea?! I like it too even though it tastes like shit!

He kept screaming, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip and slipped out of his grasp. He seemed upset at that, but eventually decided to let you be.

You were still too in shock to understand what he did for you, weren't you?

—Fine, do whatever you want..—He moved away from you, leaving you there still chained to the bed. —It's not like you'll be going anywhere soon.

He scoffed, and you felt such a rush of emotions going on at the same time. Every feeling that you may have accumulated towards him during all these months disappeared from your heart as if they were pieces of a puzzle. Each moment you grew excited because you were just about to visit him, each photo you took of him and hung on the wall while you daydreamed of the day you could take one together with him, each moment you replayed in your head every conversation with him again and again before going to sleep...it all vanished. The love you felt slowly turned into a darker feeling that extinguished it until it turned into a kind of repulsion, disgust. You knew that the day will come when you your karma will come for you for having gotten into such dangerous terrain, but you didn't expect it to be this way.

Specially for it to be this man.

The man you idealized so much, the man you thought to be so perfect.

The man you claimed to have so many things in common with.

Well, now you knew for sure.

You did have a lot in common with Choso Kamo.

Author's note: not my favorite fanfic, honestly. It's not edited since it's 2am and i don't wanna re-read, so tell me if you find any mistakes! By the way, new chapter of "dogs and Cats café" will be out next week when i'm finally done with my final exams.

Hope you liked this, I'll be reading your comments 💕

[allieebobo]

Do you have any if recommendation?

Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.

I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:

(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)

WIPs with demos

Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)

Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)

Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)

When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)

Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)

A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)

Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)

Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)

Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)

Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).

Completed IFs

Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)

Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)

The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)

Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)

[neverendingford]

.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

I'm transcribing an interview Aaron King did with me about Detente for the Ravenous and I had to stop and clip out their answer about what they think constitutes good writing. With the story breaking about NaNoWriMo supporting AI text generators, I was just reminded how fucking good it feels to hear someone talk like they give a shit about the craft.

Transcript below the readmore.

"The first time, no, the second time I dropped out of college, I moved to a different town and I was working at an old timey confectionery and ice cream place. So four to five days a week, I would go in and put on black pants and a nice white shirt and an apron and a paper hat. And I would either be scooping ice cream or washing dishes or helping the owner's dad, an 80 year old man named Oscar make homemade chocolates and stuff. So we were on a main floor of a building. We had the ice cream shop, we had a coffee shop, and then we had a basement where we stored all this bulk candy that we ordered from people. And we had the place where Oscar would make these chocolate turtles: almonds, caramel, chocolate. And one day Oscar was like, “Hey, look at this.” And he took me to the basement stairs and he pulled down this plywood slide that he had constructed on a hinge that would cover the right half of the stairs. And he took a big box that we just received and put it at the top of the slide and shoved it down. And he was like, “What do you think of that?” And I said, “Well, that saves me a lot of time carrying stuff down the stairs.” And he was like, “Yeah, every day you try to improve a little bit. You try to make this place a little better.”

And I just like was almost crying because this man that could you know, not lift anything was so old, was still just like making these weird little changes around here and thinking of other people other than him. That's one of the things that I just carry forward in this process of making stuff is just like… I will never be a Will Jobst. I will never be “insert name of my favorite writer here.” But I'm driven to make these things. There's no reason for me not to make them. I might as well try to get a little better every single day. And sometimes that means reading and sometimes that means sitting down and doing some hard self assessment and figuring out where the weaknesses are. Or how to get better or how best to spend my time. Sometimes it's fun. Sometimes it's really hard. But I don't… I'm not going to become fucking William Faulkner, you know? I'm not going to become Louise Erdrich. But that's poison brain, to try to like become and overcome them or whatever. I think it's just, if this is something I'm going to do, no matter what, I would like to get a little bit better at it every single time I practice it. Then hopefully someone will put that on my gravestone. “Tried a little bit every day. Here lies Aaron King.” "

[storywriter007]

(Part 2) Part 1 - You're Not Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n realizes this relationship is no longer worth fighting for

warnings: cursing, character death, toxic relationship, throwing things

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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y/n laughed as a smidge of vanilla ice cream was put on percy's nose.

"not funny y/n." he said, irritated, wiping it off.

"sorry, won't happen again." she said back, shocked at the mood change. "wanna go for a swim?" she asked, trying to change the topic.

"no, i want to stay dry." he said, plainly.

"do you want to do anything?" y/n laughed.

he looked at her with his sea green eyes.

"what do you think." he said.

"alright per-sassy-eus." she shrugged.

they stared the the lake in silence until a little girl came running.

"y/n! y/n!" she shouted, running towards her.

y/n wrapped her arms around the seven-year old.

"hey serena! what's up?" she asked, smiling.

"me and lily and kayla and a bunch of other girls are making friendship bracelets!" serena said excitedly. "c'mon! hi percy!"

"hey serena." he smiled. "i like your bracelet."

"i have two of them, they are matching!" she grinned. "you can have one."

she slid the blue one off her wrist and gave it to percy.

"now we're best friends!" serena said, returning to y/n and tugging on her hand.

y/n looked at percy.

"percy, i'm gonna go." she smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"yeah, ok." he shrugged.

"love you." y/n said.

"mhm."

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y/n got to the arts and crafts table and sat down next to her good friend, olivia.

"they got you too?" liv laughed.

"yeah." y/n smiled.

"y/n! why didn't percy say love you back?" serena asked.

y/n felt hurt, but she couldn't show that, not to this little girl. olivia stared at her, waiting for the response.

"he's just a little shy now-a-days." y/n chuckled.

"but he's your boyfriend!" serena's friend, lily spoke up.

"boyfriends can be shy." y/n explained, wondering whether she was lying to the kids or herself.

"but he always say i love you to annabeth!" serena's other friend, kayla added.

"i guess he's just a little more reserved after what happened with annabeth. that changes people." y/n smiled.

"he's still my hero though!" serena smiled.

"him and jason are my heroes!" lily added.

"kayla, who's your hero?" they asked.

"my hero is reyna!" she said confidently.

y/n chuckled.

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y/n and olivia sat on y/n's bed in her cabin.

"what were the girls going on about today?" liv asked.

"percy, and they were right, and they had good points." y/n sighed, tired of hiding it. "we've been dating for almost a year now, and he's just so negative."

"what do you mean?" liv continued.

"i mean he always gets mad at me, he never wants to do anything with me, and it feels like i'm just someone to look at when he's bored." y/n explained. "i get it, things are different for him after annabeth died."

olivia nodded, placing her hand on y/n's for comfort.

"they'd been friends forever, they went through hell together, they'd been in love, and he couldn't save her at the battle. but it's been three years, and he confessed to me. he said, 'i know you've like me for a while and i think i do too.' i remember the day liv." y/n continued. "and things have changed for me too. piper and hazel are always casting me dirty glances, jason and leo and frank avoid me if i'm in anywhere near ten feet to them. i've been slut-shamed, compared, and bullied because i'm dating him."

y/n began to feel tears well up.

"i just want him to talk to me and hang out with me without feeling like he's being forced to do it." she finished.

"y/n, i think this is something you have to tell percy." olivia responded. "you can't keep going like this, it's going to kill you."

"i don't want to hurt him and what if he just freaks out on me? i care about him." y/n countered.

"just talk to him." olivia encouraged. "he's a good man, he'll understand."

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"you're not understanding me!" y/n said, sadness filling her voice. "i-i'm not telling you to get over what happened, i'm trying to tell you that you can talk to me! i'm trying to help you percy!"

"help me! help me! you want to help me by bringing up her name?" he screamed.

gods, he was scary.

"i'm trying to tell you that it feels like you don't even like me, much less love me! it's like i'm a burden to you!" y/n shouted back. "and i understand you're hurting, but why am i a victim of your grief?"

"fine!" he said, throwing a candle across his cabin. "i'm sorry that my girlfriend, who i loved for longer than i've ever known you, is dead and that it makes me upset!"

y/n ducked, avoiding the glass shards. fear ran through her bones.

"and i'm sorry you have to go through that, but it sucks for me too! piper and hazel give me these glares, like they hate every vein in my body. leo, jason, and frank run from me like i'm a disease! and i've told you and you don't do shit to stop it, you encourage it if anything!" y/n yelled.

"they've got every fucking reason too!" he yelled, throwing a picture frame of us across the room.

"what's the reason! tell me, what's the reason!" y/n shouted.

"because you're not annabeth!" he yelled, with every bone in his body as tear welled up in his eyes. "you're not her, she would've never done whatever shit you're doing."

y/n stood still for a minute as the words replayed in her head.

you're not her, you're not her, you're not her.

tears filled y/n's eyes.

it's like percy finally understood the gravity of the situation as he looked around in shame.

"y/n, i didn't mean that-"

"no, no, percy, you did. you really did, because otherwise, you wouldn't have said it. and you wouldn't have followed every action to prove it." y/n chuckled. "i'm sorry i'm not annabeth."

percy took a couple of steps forward, but stopped instantly when y/n backed up defensively. y/n pointed to the glass shards around the room. they stood in silence.

"you're a bad man, percy. throwing shit and telling me i'll never be enough. i wish every little girl and boy could see their so-called camp hero right now. i wish they could see what a fucking monster he is." y/n said, her voice now low and quiet.

she turned around, and walked out of his cabin.

“y/n, can’t we talk about this?” he shouted out.

“oh i tried talking to you percy.” she chuckled. “but, you can always go down to annabeth’s gravestone and talk to her."

[marchsfreakshow]

How Dangerously Beautiful [Peter Maximoff]

Fluff

You like collecting knives, and the first time Peter comes over, he's interested in the love you have for the maybe weapons.

Yet another Maximoff fic I'm not sorry. I am love Maximoff :3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"We literally just got off the phone Maximoff!" You squealed as the front door was flung open. Nothing could ever make you used to the speedster's mutant powers. No matter how many times he sped himself over to you; outside, at his house, in your garden, at work... it always freaked you out a little. But a grin appeared as Maximoff stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"well, you asked me to come over. And here I am, over." He breathed out, looking around, then speeding up the stairs. It made a sigh escape your tired body and rushed behind the speedster.

As Maximoff stood by a closed door, he pointed at it, almost quizzically. "Is this your room?"

"Well, do you see another closed doors that have a sign saying my name?"

"ah, yeah." He then just grinned at you and stepped in, immediately taking in the decorations and everything almost cluttering the walls. No mess Maximoff wasn't used to, but still looked around in slight confusion. "And here I thought you were the cleaner one in the relationship." A small chuckle escaped him as you just shrugged and stepped past the speedster.

Your eyes focused on the knife collection you owned with nerves. Sure people around the world liked making different things, selling and buying. But yours was an odd one, and it was the first thing on your mind while your silver-haired boyfriend explored your room. "Well...you know, I try to be." A deep breath when you started your sentence.

Just as soon as you let out a sigh, Peter noticed what you were staring at. He was entranced by the different coloured metals shining in the mid-day light. Entranced by the little details on the handles, and how they seemed to be crafted. "Woah man. These are...fuckin rad..." He whispered, fingernails lightly tracing one of the knives.

A gargled "no!" escaped you as you ran to stand in front of Maximoff. It was useless, he always stood taller than you. "Don't. Don't, touch them." Your voice came out as a shaky whisper rather than a loud and confident command.

"why not?"

"they're precious!!"

"You're precious but I touch you all the time all over."

"oh shut up." Gritted teeth but a blush at his off-handed flirt. Something you were used to, but in a situation like this it overrided your mind. "Just...be careful. Please?"

"Always am babe don't sweat." Another little grin as Maximoff picked up your favourite knife, by complete coincidence. It was a wine red on the handle, covered with little black designs. A spider on the end, a cliché broken heart on the same middle spot on both sides. Little lines and dots around here, there, over and around. Sharpened recently by the looks of it. The blade was dusty looking; the wine red covered in a deep dusk top, perhaps to save the sharpened edge that was new and shiny.

Peter was in love with it. He looked at it like he looked at you whilst you were on top, eyes full of stars...wonder, and just pure amazement. "This is... beautiful.." a small voice coming out of the usually loud and energetic man. As a response you kissed his cheek, staring at your most priceless collectable with the same wonder.

"It's my favourite one, and custom-made. My cousin had it made for me last year on my birthday." It was a bit of random information but probably the only good response you had at that minute. Another little kiss on his cheek as Maximoff placed the knife back in its holder.

"All of these are so pretty. Just like you." Grabbing you by the side and pulling you before him, admiring the small collection. Reds, greens, blues, all shades and colours. They almost sparkled in Peter's eyes as you looked up to him as best you could. "I mean, why knives though babe? They're dangeroussss!" A little singsongy voice, knowing you knew the dangers of having potential weapons such as these.

Small shrug as you wrapped your hands around Maximoff's arms. "I know they're dangerous. But I just, look at them. They're wonderful..."

A small chuckle as kisses were placed around the sides of your face. "Again, beautiful like you. They suit you and I think, you should get a full silver one. Just pure silver."

"what for you?"

"Absolutely!" Both of you laughed to yourselves, just admiring the wall of coloured metal in front of you.

"not a totally stupid idea...I'll think about it."

"you should." Another little laugh as another little set of kisses were peppered over your face.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @silverzoomies @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @coentinim @nahoyasboyfriend @newwavesylviaplath @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @bluerthanvelvet444 @briaroftheroses

[utilitycaster]

i respect matt for constantly wanting to bring in various perspectives and have this 'no good answer' kind of debate but also like. I cannot shake the feeling that sort of thing works SO much better in a scripted format - book, movie, tv show - than ttrpg actual play. Like you said - there needs to be a clear direction of SOME kind. I want to love this campaign so badly because the ideas and character beats are there but the PACING is a slog and direction is just ?

Hi anon,

I have another ask in my inbox that I'm going to answer that's going to touch on this but like. The problem really is, again, the same one I've been saying since the god debates first popped up. "Pulpier and Deadlier" did not prepare the cast for a campaign with extensive philosophical debates - no one in Bells Hells knows shit about dick and most of them seem to have been crafted expecting a more character-centric campaign that obviously did not happen - and because it's not just an open philosophical exploration but a rather specific plot, the party has been ushered along by a number of NPCs and events all saying "you should feel THIS WAY". Which, I should note, is not unrealistic for life, but, and this is part of what I'm going to cover in more length in the other ask, it does not make for a very satisfying story to watch, in the same way that a loving healthy relationship in which nothing dramatic happens is aspirational for real life and stultifyingly boring in fiction.

I do not wish to catastrophize here because it's very possible Bells Hells will go back, make a decision, and this will just be one more annoying argument but we'll get past it, but if this does turn into still more party indecision after we had a big scene that was like "YOU ARE THE HOPE OF EXANDRIA" I think we can safely say that this is just. not a story that has a hope of being as narratively satisfying as it could be (and I say this even if it ends with the factual outcomes I personally want). That doesn't mean there's not a lot of enjoyable pieces to it, and I'm certainly here for the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina's contributions, but yeah this needed MUCH more planning from the start to be able to carry the themes I think Matt wanted it to. Like...I think we are crashing into the boundaries of "it's their game" on some level, because it is great that he is trying to surprise his friends and let a lot of people DM within the world but it means the plot has gotten unbelievably muddied and distorted in a way that it wouldn't had the cast been given a bit more context and the other DMs a bit firmer direction.

[osleeplessflowero]

hi! If it's ok can you do a Reaper sans x reader with fluff and in it they are dating and Reaper can touch the reader and their soul trait would be kindness

hii! an opportunity to use reaper..this'll be fun! thank you for your request Anon! 🌸

💚Flirting With Death🖤

Reaper comes to a stop once he re-enters the mortal realm once more, relieved that no one is aware that he's awake at the moment.. Although he may be the God of Death..he doesn't really feel like killing anybody. No, he'd much rather do literally anything else.

His eyes dart around until he perks up at the sight of a familiar face taking a walk down a path and letting a butterfly rest on their finger. He'd know them anywhere.

A strange figure that appeared in his world out of no where..an unexplained event. They don't know much of their origin themself, but..they're content, living in this world. And he's grown so very fascinated with them.. Someone who managed to slip their way into his guarded heart.

Floating over you, a sly cheshire-like grin stretches onto his face as he grabs your shoulders, spooking you. You jolt as you turn around, furrowing your brows as he lets out an amused chuckle.

"Not funny!" You cross your arms as more butterflies seem to make their way to you, resting on your head. "Quit doing that."

"i saw an opportunity, and i took it. anyway..movin' on from that, how are you today?" He leans down upside down. "haven't seen you in a while..guess we both got too busy."

"Come down here before I answer." You gesture, earning an amused chuckle. "alright then." He floats back upright, before landing on the ground.

The butterflies spread out, flying in varying directions, avoiding the God of Death so they wouldn't meet an early demise. He stands before you, using his magic to put away his scythe, leaving himself open.

"Much better..I like being on equal terms." You smile, holding a small basket in front of you. "I've mostly just been hanging out here..taking walks and stuff. Oh yeah, I've been making a bunch of paper crafts- y'know, like origami? It's pretty fun. ..When I'm not getting lectured for leaving a bunch of paper rabbits out." You mutter that last part, earning a chuckle from him.

"oh my stars, that's so..you." He grins, watching you as you begin walking and following without hesitation. "Creativity is both my blessing and my curse." You smile sheepishly, guiding him along a grass-covered path. He occasionally floats so he doesn't kill any flowers beneath him, listening carefully as you talk about this and that.

"What about you?" You turn to him, snapping him out of a trance of sorts. "oh, well..y'know. your typical scenarios. death, death, more death. this job's killing me." "How is it, up there?" "well..just do my job, talk to who i'm 'sposed to, and do daily tasks. pretty simple." "..You must be pretty lonely up there.."

He turns to you.

"I mean-" "it was pretty lonely, without you there. ..things don't feel the same up there, compared to when i'm with you. tends to happen, heh."

You gently hold out your hand, offering for him to take it. He looks between you and your hand for a moment, gently taking it and intertwining his fingers with yours. Wow, is that a strange sensation.. he's gotta learn to get used to all of this touching. Especially since you're so openly affectionate..

"Well..at least we're here together now, right? We've got plenty of time." You smile warmly at him. His cheekbones flush a light shade of blue..there you go again, tugging on his heartstrings. "..i guess you're right."

You continue leading him along like he's a lost puppy, taking a deep breath as the sun hits your face from above. It's always good to savor it while it lasts..and considering it's going to set soon, that time's limited.

"Now that you're back I wanna spend as much time with you as possible..don't get too sick of me, okay?" "that's what i'm supposed to say to you." "Yeah, right. I could never be sick of you."

He averts his eyes, hiding the bottom of his face within his hood as his face flushes even more.

You smile, stopping and turning to him as another breeze blows through, gently swaying your clothing to the side.

"i haven't..felt like this before, with anybody." He raises a hand, placing it on his warm cheekbone. "it's all so..new.."

"Can I touch your face?" You ask politely, and he nods, appreciating that. You lift a hand, gently touching his cheekbone and letting him lean into it. "..It's new for both of us, really. ..We've got each other, every step of the way, right?"

"yeah.." He smiles, putting his hand over yours. "i don't mind being touched by you. it's something i could get used to." "..You always have such..uncertainty, when you hold my hand. Why's that?" "i guess.. a part of me's scared that my...effect will work on you one day." His eyesockets narrow as he grimaces. "the idea of losing you is.."

You gently hold your hand up so he can see before you put it on his other cheek, turning him so he'll face you properly.

"Sans." You mutter his name, his true name, leaving him breathless. "I doubt that'd ever happen..I'm too stubborn to go anywhere. No matter what, I will always be with you somehow..even when you're up there with the fun police."

He snickers, moving his hand over to touch your hair before it slides to your cheek. Now it's your turn to lean..savoring his gentle touches. He treats you as if you're the most fragile thing in the world..one wrong move, and you could shatter into pieces. But at the same time, you're very sturdy.. you can handle yourself just fine. He knows that.

"You can touch me as much as you'd like to. I don't mind at all."

His face burns. "forward, much?" "Yeah. But I mean it." You smile. "If you'd like me to, I'll give you as much physical affection as you want." "..yeah?" "Yeah." "how so?"

"Well..may I?" You lean a little closer. "of course."

You then proceed to pepper his skull with kisses, getting a few laughs out of him since he's ticklish. Oh, would you use that to your advantage later-

"Mmmwah! There. There'll be plenty more where that came from." You smile smugly, watching as he slowly reopens his eyes, turning to you and..matching your expression? Oh. Oh no.

He gently grabs your wrists, pulling you just a liiittle closer.

"you're not getting away that easily. it's my turn."

Oh heavens.

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

[8bbc theme fades out] Caldwell: Uh-- I'm ready to start the show whenever you are, daddy! [Murph laughs] Emily: (accented) Daddy! I want to start the show! Murph: Ohhh, welcome to 8-bit book club, the only book club that makes you dumber! I'm Brian Murphy joined as always by my life slash comedy partner Emily Axford. Emily: Kamehameha! [Caldwell laughs] Murph: That has nothing to do with what we're doing today! [Emily laughs.] We're doing a Mario book and you're just shouting things from Dragon Ball Z? And now you're just laughing and you're just out of commission? And, um, why not, the Krillin to my Goku, Caldwell Tanner. [Emily and Caldwell laugh. Emily continues wordlessly laughing in the background as Murph and Caldwell talk.] Caldwell: I had a whole thing about Koopas ready and you fuckin' threw it off! Murph, laughing: Yeah, the whole thing's thrown off. We… Caldwell: We're already off the path. Murph: We're already off the path! Emily's been so weird the past few days, I was just telling Caldwell about how she's been prankin' me. By-- (laughs) She went to Starbucks the other day, I asked her to get me a large iced coffee, she insisted she was only gonna get me a small iced coffee. And then, Emily, do you wanna tell everyone the prank that you did when you came back? Emily: Okay. Then I-- Caldwell: Yeah, tell them the excellent goof that you pulled. Murph: Yeah, the good switcheroo! Emily: Okay, here's the good switcheroo! [Caldwell laughs.] I came back and I said-- "I know you wanted a large, I wanted to get you a small, so I split the difference and I got you a venti… straw." And I gave him a small iced coffee but with the biggest straw there. [Caldwell laughs] Murph: Yeah, so… it was… Emily: Did it look pretty silly as I was walking home from? Yeah! I think everyone probably saw me and was like "that girl's going to goof!" Murph: It was-- it was pretty silly, it was definitely a harmless goof, and yet it was-- um-- she ultimately did me a favor that I didn't wanna say thank you for. You know what I mean? Caldwell: Right. Right, cause you didn't-- it didn't keep you up? It was the right sized coffee that you needed? Murph: Well, no, it was nice thing for her to pick me up a coffee when she was out, but then she owned me when she came home. [Emily laughs] For no reason! Caldwell: Did the barista ask-- were they like-- "Well, I don't understand, you don't have a venti drink." Did you have to explain that you were taking your husband to goof town? Emily: Um, no. I would have said those words exactly if they had asked, but actually it's sort of a self service station for straws there at Starbucks. Caldwell: Oh, right. Emily: So I was using the Starbucks self-service straw station. Caldwell: They probably get a lot of people picking up those venti straws for like, crafts and stuff. They're very sturdy. Emily: Oh, yeah. You could also make a gorge necklace out of them! Murph: Yeah, you could make a good straw cabin out of that! Caldwell: Mhm. A straw-bridge. Murph: What the fuck are we talking about? [Emily and Caldwell laugh] Um, we-- wuh. Man, I can't even talk.

[luveline]

oh god Eddie and roan requests are my kryptonite (i must re read the stories once a month or I'll perish so i guess opposite of kryptonite) and i think it would be so incredibly stinkin cute if Ro made some like mothers day art/gifts whatever at school and she gives them to the reader without saying they're for mother's day and reader is so thrilled they put it up on the fridge or whatever

thank you for your request, my love! eddie and roan ♡ (step)mom!reader, 2k

Eddie would one day like to pick Roan up from school without smelling like the shop, but today is not that day. She vaults into his waiting arms like a firecracker despite it, her arms around his neck, the sleeves of her red vinyl coat cold on his skin.

"I've wanted to hug you all day," she declares, her eyes bright with love. 

Eddie gives her a squeeze. "All day? You poor thing!" He eases her back to check her over, her cheeks already rosy in the cold, her hair a mess despite his best efforts that morning to avoid it. "Did you miss me?" 

"Like my head," she says. She's an animated talker, nodding with each word. 

"A hole in the head, is the saying," he tells her, punctuating with a kiss to her cheek. 

"But I don't want a hole in my head, so that doesn't make sense," she says. 

He smiles and steals another quick kiss. "That's the point, mini me," he says fondly. 

"Silly points don't count." 

"Who said anything about silly?" he asks, checking her water bottle is in her bag as he talks. 

Roan tells him exactly who's been talking about silly as he walks her to the car. She's heavy enough to make his arms ache despite doing the same thing near enough every day for years. He's relieved to set her down when they get to the car in her seat, tossing her backpack and strapping her into her seat. 

Eddie gets behind the wheel. He has to pick you up from work while your car is in the shop, so you're finishing early today. 

"Daddy?" 

"Yeah?" he asks, checking his rearview. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

Eddie starts the car, pulling out of the lot carefully and turning onto the road leading away from the elementary school. "Yeah, babe. You can always ask me something." 

Roan leans back in her chair, toying with the string coming from her coat hood. "Well, it's about Y/N." 

"That's my favourite kind of question." 

"But I don't want you to tell her that I asked you," she says hesitantly. 

Eddie divides his attention between the road and his daughter carefully. "Ro," he says, reaching back with his hand to squeeze her knee. It's quite acrobatic. "Listen, baby, if you ever wanna tell me anything just for my ears, that's no problem. I'm good at keeping secrets." 

Roan grabs her bag. "Well. Well, I made her some things today for arts and crafts, but– but Pauline said maybe Y/N wouldn't want them 'cos she's not my real mommy, and I said that's not true, because I call her mommy, and Pauline said that's not how it works." 

Eddie winces. He knew eventually someone would have something to say about you, but he hadn't expected it to be tiny Pauline. It makes sense, though: Pauline's mom is a mean gossip. 

"How do you feel about it?" he asks.

"Well… well, I don't know." 

"Do you want me to tell you a secret?" 

Roan makes a confused noise. "Okay." 

"Okay. A week ago, when you went to Uncle Wayne's for a sleepover, you kissed Y/N on the cheek and you said, 'bye mommy.'" Eddie's tone goes soft as he remembers it. "Remember?" 

"Yeah," she says. 

"When you left, she turned to me and she was so, so happy. She gave me a hug and she said to me, Eddie, I'm the luckiest girl in the world," Eddie recounts, taking the turn that leads to your workplace, knowing he doesn't have a whole lot of time to explain. "Ro, she loves you, and she loves being your mom. She didn't have you in her tummy, so sometimes people will say she's not your real mommy, but it doesn't matter how they feel, it matters how you feel. Like, sometimes you want to call her mom, and sometimes you call her Y/N, and those are both okay. That's perfect, really, because you should call her whatever you want. Does that make sense?" 

He peeks at Roan in the mirror. She's smiling, relief clear as day on her face. "I want her to be my mom forever." 

Eddie can't see the future, but with a ring on your finger, and the amount of times he's seen you cry or be emotional over how lucky you feel, he doesn't think it's a lie when he says, "Then she will be." 

"Really?"

"Babe, you should ask her yourself. I know she'd tell you the same thing I'm telling you. You don't need to worry about what Pauline thinks, just what you think." 

Roan hums, noncommittal. 

You're waving as soon as you see the car outside of work despite the coworker you're standing next to. "Roan!" you yell, voice muffled by the closed door between you and them, fast walking to the car where it idles. "You're never gonna guess what! I got you something!" You pull open the passenger side door and climb in, nearly closing it on your foot. You don't have eyes for Eddie as you wield three paper stubs from your purse. "I didn't tell you because I had to wait, but last week I asked Madeline from work to do a favour for me if she could, and– and–" You put the paper straight and point to the words with a neat fingernail. "Can you read that, princess?" 

"Uhm," Roan says, clearly startled by your excitement, "it says, Princess Polly," —her voice takes a noticeable hike— "the muss–muss…" 

"Do you want me to tell you?" you ask. She nods. Your simmering happiness comes to a boil. "They're tickets to go see Princess Polly: The Musical!" 

Roan's brain takes a second to catch up. When it does, Eddie wishes he had the foresight to bring his ear defenders home with him. 

In all the excitement, Eddie and Roan's discussion gets put on pause, as does dinner. The car ride is a babbling, giggling mess, and all Roan wants to do when you get home is change into her Princess Polly dress and watch the movie. 

You're pleased with yourself and her reaction, Eddie can tell, shifting gently from foot to foot in your stockings in front of the countertop chopping broccoli while Eddie washes his hands to help. 

"That went well, yeah?" you ask. 

"I think it went more than well. How much did they set you back?" 

"Eddie," you chastise lightly. "I thought we were going to stop talking about money." 

"It's kind of impossible to not talk about money." 

"Right," you agree, shovelling broccoli into a colander. You start on the carrots next. "But we were gonna stop talking about individual costs now because we have the budget book. I don't like how stressed out you get, you'll get a migraine."  

Eddie makes himself sweat worrying about money and you hate seeing him like that. You're a bleeding heart. You care about him deeply. You love him, of course, but there's a second layer to that Eddie feels not everyone is lucky enough to have. Case in point —you towel your hands off and reach for him, scraping the hair away from his face with tender touches. 

"Please don't worry, Eds. They fit in our budget very nicely, I promise," you say, fingertip trailing a tickling path up his cheek.

He trusts you and he knows you're more than clever enough to be smart about how you're spending money so close to the wedding. 

"Not worrying," he says, forcing a smile that turns authentic the longer he looks at you. 

Your returning smile is saccharine. He thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever seen, especially looking as happy as you do. "You're drying your hands in my blazer, aren't you?" 

He presses a cold hand under your blazer to your shirt. "No?" 

"It's okay… I'll be your dish rag," you wrinkle your nose, laughing at your own joke with self-disgust. "Yikes. I love you." 

"I love you too," he says, turning into a melty mess of a man, burying his face in the side of your neck. "How was your day? Was your lunch okay, with the new croutons?" Eddie's chief lunch maker.

"The croutons were just as good as the other ones, thank you thank you. You're tickling my neck like that," you whine playfully, leaning back in the circle of his arms. "Come on, I wanna hug you more than anything but I need to get the veggies in to roast and- Hey baby! Oh my gosh, look at you!" 

Eddie turns away to see what has you fawning. Roan's put her Princess Polly dress on, the newer one with mesh sleeves intact, matching tiara perched on hair she's brushed and frizzified. She looks gorgeous. 

"You have to watch the movie with me, you need to know the words to her song," Roan says, spinning in a delighted spin. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna!" you agree. You look around her, having caught sight of the paper in her hands she's now put behind her back again. "What's that? Is that for me?" 

"They're for you," Roan says. She hesitates, looking at Eddie. 

He nods encouragingly from your side. He doesn't care what Pauline's mom thinks, if Roan loves you as a mom, and you love her as your daughter, that's real. 

Roan smiles and comes forward. Eddie already got you a bunch of stuff for mother's day, but he thinks he probably should've gotten Roan involved for some homemade crafts when he sees the look on your face. You rub your thumb over a card made of purple craft paper. There's pink and white feathers arranged in a heart shape, the PVA glue still heavy and damp in splodges. Your eyes track to the centre, your smile wide enough to apple your cheeks. 

Happy Mother's Day has been written in the teacher's pencil and copied meticulously by Roan's red felt tip. 

"I wanted it to be perfect," Roan says. 

You laugh breathlessly. "It is," you say, lips parting as you open the card. "It's perfect, Ro. Oh, gosh." 

To my Mommy is in huge letters at the top. A poem about mothers and guardians has been stapled to the middle, and Roan's signed off with her name and three hearts. 

You close it and hold it to your chest. "Thank you so much, Roan. This is the best card I've ever been given." 

"And there's this too," she says. 

She feeds a paper crown into your hands. You put it on immediately, setting aside your card with utmost care and gathering her into your arms for a silk and tulle hug. 

"Do we look good, dad?" Roan asks, her shoulder pressed to yours as you crouch for a squeeze.

Eddie scrambles backward for the third drawer under the cutlery. "You look so good! Stay there, I think I have a camera down here." 

"We need to go watch the movie," Roan objects, though she's turned to a floppy weight in your arms, giggling as you run your fingers through her dark hair. 

"I need to take a picture! This one can go up on our welcome board at the reception," he says, digging through the drawer fruitlessly. 

He finds ìt. Bringing it to his eye before he misses the perfect shot, Eddie lines the finder with your hug, stepping back to fit your arms doubled around her waist, and the frills of her pink socks on the ceramic tile floor. The kitchen glows with early evening light, and Eddie can smell washing detergent, hand soap, and the freshness of chopped greens. He barely notices the smell of diesel lingering in his hair. 

You close your eyes, nose pressed to the top of Roan's head. Eddie gets a jolt of love and pride like an extra spoon of sugar in a warm cup of honey tea. This is as good as it gets, he bets. 

"Say cheese!" he commands. 

Roan bears her baby teeth. "Cheese!" 

You slide your cheek next to Roan's and smile. It's a million miles from that unsure, awkward grin you used to give him, but every iteration of your smile is perfect to Eddie. He takes three whole pictures in case the first two don't come out.

—