#if anybody else is thinking about it and looking for a sign please let it be this post

[cryptids]

making a new post for this bc it felt a bit tmi to add to the tags of the last one lmao, but back when I used to shave my armpits they would constantly be irritated and itchy and far more sweaty (like I'd have visible pit stains every day on top of just always feeling damp and gross under my arms) and deodorant would fade much faster bc it would literally just slide off?? but when I stopped doing that, which was like 10 years ago now or more, ALL of those problems just completely went away. they never itch or get rashes or anything ever since, and deodorant started lasting all day easily. so I know first hand that its complete bs whenever people try to say shaving is necessary for hygeine or skincare or to reduce sweat or smell. like if it wasn't already clear from the fact that men aren't pressured to do the same (when they tend to sweat more overall as well?)

[dreamlandbarnes]

f1 fic recs

a compilation of all the fics i've been reading in the f1 rpf tag on ao3! please leave comments and kudos for the authors, and check the tags before reading. sorted by pairing, and summary and word count are provided. none of these fics are mine.

if your fic is on here and you want it removed, please let me know!

part 2

charles leclerc / max verstappen

bloodsport by 140445 | 37,711 words | M

“I don’t care about then, you are here now,” Charles says. “You are on my side now.” Max is on his side. It’ll feel like that, too, at some point. Surely. Or: Max and Charles as teammates for the 24 hours of Le Mans.

such murderous and vengeful desire by foggystars | 20,676 words | E

Where Carlos’ girlfriend has her fingers crossed, keeps covering her eyes as if she can’t bear to watch, Max is focused, mouth set in a hard line. He’s leaning in, balancing on the edge of his seat. To anybody else he looks intent, focused on the screen. To Charles, he looks like a bird, poised to take wing. Like he’s about to fly right through the screen and take the steering wheel from Charles’ clumsy hands, get in there and drive the car himself. When Max Verstappen suffers a career ending injury, he pours all his effort into turning his old rival, Charles Leclerc, into a worthy champion. Five years and two world championships later, they finally decide to talk about it.

like in love with me by linearity | 7,800 words | T

Austria 2019, a two-person house party, Abu Dhabi 2021, a silly lover’s quarrel, and a stove-side morning proposal.

Anonym by additiv | 13,971 words | E

The truth is, Max finds Charles unbelievably annoying. He’s chaotic and unpredictable. He’s staring at Max across the room one moment, and in the next, seems to have forgotten he exists. He swaps clothes with people at random, whipping off his faded Gucci t-shirt in the middle of the dance floor, to trade it for some girl’s crop top, laughing and crowding close to block the view of her body while they make the exchange. When he disappears to the bathroom, Max never knows whether he’ll reappear with glitter on his eyelids, or white powder on his nose. He flirts with every person in the room, and probably sleeps with them too. He ignores Max completely, then goes home with him. He’s always gone when Max wakes up; nothing left behind, nothing missing. He refuses to stay the night, but refuses to let Max get over him. And, he refuses to let Max know anything about him.

when you cut me open by triangularity (linearity) | 44,900 words | E

Well, Charles concedes, miserably. He did die last night. A few days staying with his vampire ex-boyfriend probably isn’t the worst thing he’ll have gone through in January.

a life in your shape by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream) | 29,431 words | E

“Oh god, not you,” Charles groans, crossing his arms on his chest. The Batman visibly rolls his eyes (blue, of course, because all men that messed with Charles’ life had that in common apparently) at his reaction, but another look at Charles makes him step closer. “Yes, always a pleasure. Are you ok?” or: 5 times both Max and the Batman makes Charles' life a lot more complicated than needed + 1 time he doesn't

Frecheit by additiv | 208,723 words | E

The first time that Max heard the name Charles Leclerc was in 2022, just after winning his first WDC. Maybe it only stuck because he heard it twice in one night; first as Leclerc was announced as the 2022 F3 champion. Second, as Helmut lamented not signing him to the Red Bull driver development program. Now, Max is ready to put the newly-promoted Ferrari driver in his place. The problem is, Leclerc seems to think his place is on the top step of the podium. And he is not playing by the rules. An age-difference fic, where they never got to work out their differences as kids. 3-time WDC Max's experience of being personally victimised by baby-Charles.

in dream by 140445 | 81,025 words | E

Charles tried to figure out the dream on his own. In the morning he sat down with a cup of coffee, trying to make sense of what he had seen—he even googled it. Surely, Charles couldn't be the first or only person to dream about someone he shouldn't. But there were no search results for my professional rival is suddenly also my soulmate or soulmate dream of someone i'm not supposed to want???.  (In a world where soulmates identified each other by sharing a dream, Charles dreamt of the last person he expected.)

heart of the wind by pipitass | 13,830 words | M

There’s a slip of paper taped next to one of the doorbells — third floor, second door. It should, in theory, be the one directly across from his own. Max V. “Yes?” “Uh— hi.” He clears his throat. “It’s your neighbor. From across the street. Your, your clothes…” He doesn’t really know what to say after that. Hi, I got into a street fight with your bedsheets yesterday. Welcome to the neighborhood.

charles_leclerc ✔️ posted: 😘 by ninetqs | 11,500 words | M

Charles posts a photo with a mystery man and casually breaks the Internet in the process.

cameras in the traffic lights by c_e_1 | 9,958 words | M

Pop Crave @PopCrave • Aug 13 2023 Popstar Charles Leclerc has put his instagram on private after fans spotted Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen in the background of his vacation photos 303 comments | 1.6K retweets | 10K likes

(don't read) the last page by mintchocolatechip97 | 7,475 words | E

Max feels a light tap on his arm, and turns to see the beautiful door-opener, chestnut brown curls fluffed up on his head like he’s been running his hands through his hair. “I have been on a set a time or two,” the man says, trying and failing to wink, “but this is my first time in a writers room, so you are not the only rookie here.” He clearly speaks English fluently, but has a smidge of a European accent, which Max thinks might be French. “I’m sorry,” Max says, a little annoyed that this stranger is speaking to him as if they know each other, “I didn’t catch your name?” Several emotions flit over the man’s face, in such quick succession that Max can’t quite catch them all. In the end, he looks mortified. “Oh, I am so sorry,” he says, “This is going to sound terrible, like I am the worst kind of person, but I thought you would know who I was.” Dr. Max Verstappen gets hired as the expert medical consultant for a new Netflix show. Charles Leclerc, former teen heartthrob, stars.

all i know of love is hunger by 140445 | 28,509 words | E

Anger flares in Charles’ chest. Not the kind that he feels in the car, when he’s on Max’s tail, when they are braking late and later. The one that’s been looming over his head ever since Max announced his retirement. The one he hasn’t been able to tame until now, until he can give it a name. Betrayal.

hollywood and highland by japrufrocks | 26,730 words | E

Max had left New York a week before Charles had, seven days exactly. Max had gone to Hollywood; Charles had gone to a hospital. Now they're starring in the same film. Hollywood gives its darlings everything. It takes everything too.

straight lines (that unwind you) by 140445 | 16,330 words | E

“Do you know him?” Arthur asks. “No,” Charles decides. Because he does not. He knows Max is a mathematics major, and that he plays chess. And that he hits the gym. And what he looks like when he comes. Details.

all to play for by linearity | 49,300 words | E

Charles Leclerc is not at Red Bull to win races. He is here to win championships.

my thoughts will echo your name by witchee_writer | 38,826 words | M

“Do you think you’ll ever want to do Le Mans one day?” asked Max, glancing sideways at the man sitting next to him. Charles’ eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. “I think I want to win Le Mans one day.”

heart on your sleeve by nyoomfruits | 4,812 words | T

The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing. Almost. But then he goes and falls in love.

ghost of you by nyoomfruits | 3,436 words | T

“All right, are you now finally ready to explain why four time world driver champion Charles Leclerc is currently in my living room?” Max says, as Charles towels off his hair. Charles pauses, lets the towel fall into his lap, stares at Max with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, did you say four time?”

The HR Situation by thearchercore | 3,027 words | Gen

Jacob found out many things during his first month in the new HR role - Mary and Connor from Aero Engineering were dating. Thomas and Nick from Comms got recently divorced and it's a sensitive subject. Eddie from Legal had to go to an Anger Management class but hasn't had any issues since his return. Oh, and also - Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc were fucking weird about each other. or: Charles and Max go to Mercedes and the HR Department is in shambles.

Sawtooth by nottonyharrison | 40,305 words | E

In another universe, Max rejected karting at the age of fifteen, no longer prepared to be a proxy for his father’s dream. He moved back to Belgium to live with his mum and sister, excelled at school, and eventually went on to complete a Masters of Mechanical Engineering. Now 27, after four years working for Alfa Romeo and Sauber, first as a junior performance engineer and then on the pit wall for Zhou Guanyu, he’s put forward for a job with Ferrari when Carlos Sainz is left without a race engineer thanks to the increasingly hectic F1 schedule. The problem is, Max has a crush on Carlos’ teammate. A huge, obvious, embarrassing crush that leaves him stumbling for words, face burning every time he’s within six feet of the guy. What makes it even worse is that sometimes he’s sure that Charles is looking right back.

leminiscate by weiwuxian (BreathofDream) | 27,799 words | E

Charles tries to imagine Max, on the opposite side of the kitchen. Eating bread too, like he did that first morning of the After—gross and charming. Tries to think about the way he would hold him, maybe. Of the softness of his lips, glossed by butter; and how he would laugh and push him away. His phone dings and he blinks himself awake once again.

achilles comes down by sincerelylancelot | 21,068 words | M

The World Championship trophy rests in his trembling hands, his name etched in fine gold. It isn't until he's staring down at it—his name nestled close to Max’s—that he realises his dreams have always been carved out of someone else’s pain. Jules. Max. And now, maybe even himself.

charles leclerc / carlos sainz jr

a bad recompense for your love by steviethenarwhal | 65,162 words | M

“I do not want to date you,” Charles says. Carlos’s eyes slide warily over to him. He tries to explain. “I do not date men. It would be… not smart.” “I don’t want to date you either,” Carlos says. “I do not date racecar drivers.”

translation theory by linearity | 9,500 words | E

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s golden boy, their Il Predestinato. He likes it up the ass and likes getting fucked by rockstars who have more tattoos than thoughts in their brains. What a fucking joke.

semiotic study by linearity | 8,600 words | E

Carlos knows. He knows what this is and what this is not. This is not romance, this is not love, but Charles makes it so easy to slip into that illusion. Charles makes it so hard, and Carlos cannot be without.

last night by venerat | 24,259 words | E

Rule #1: When you go to America, don't lose your virginity to your best friend's roommate. Charles fails Rule #1.

Good Boy by chiliconcarlos | 8,445 words | E

Really, it’s all Alex’s fault. ~~ Or: the one where Charles and Carlos want to settle the question of who's better in bed.

at the dinner table with god and my father by Cloudcollector | 4,599 words | M

There is a table in his house that knows more about him than his father. Or, Carlos and his father. And the family dinner table through the years.

win or lose (it's how you play the game) by chiliconcarlos | 18,321 words | E

It all starts because of a stupid bet.   Or: Carlos suggests a hickey bet for their '23 season, and it goes about how you'd expect.

darling by magnificentbirb | 6,579 words | T

The pet names begin as a joke.

carlos sainz jr / oscar piastri

take it or leave it by venerat | 6,771 words | E

r/relationships: My (22M) coworker (29M) keeps irritating me at work

he just turned in like i didn't exist by linearity | 36,500 words | E

Oscar doesn’t have a problem with his soulmate. It’s his soulmate who has the fucking problem.

Happy Death Race by powerfulowl (playmyace) | 28,390 words | E

Carlos gazes up at the fake blue sky. Dopey grin, contrapposto pose, head as empty as the cottony clouds above. “Look, look. Look, Piastri. It is always daylight.” Oscar imagines pushing him into the piss water canal. "Yeah, cool. Stop dying!" (Oscar is in a time loop and Carlos won't stop dying.)

when both our cars collide by buildyourfences | 8,483 words | M

It’s race day, which means his phone shouldn’t be ringing. And yet, it is. “Carlos, why are you not at the track yet? We are waiting for you.” “But–” “I sent you the updated schedule last night, please get here as soon as possible.” The call ends. He blinks down at the phone in his hand. Friday, March 1. Well, that’s not right. Carlos is trapped in a time loop. He can't stop crashing with Oscar.

at a constant speed by wisteriagoesvroom (bobaheadshark) | 11,676 words | E

“Are you close?” Oscar asks. “What does it look like?” “I wasn’t expecting it to be, uh, so…” What? Oscar wants to add. Hot? Desperate? Pathetic? All of the above? --- Or, carcar get themselves into a situationship, and it just keeps situating.

left a calling card so they would know that it was me by xxxdeerlordxxx | 6,139 words | E

Carlos continues to sit there, in the cockpit with his back to the wall, pieces of the torn advertisements raining down on him. He can see a big screen from where he’s at, the replays they show over and over, of Carlos spinning out, of Oscar driving away from the incident like nothing happened. Because of course no one believes him. But Carlos knows that Oscar’s to blame. Just not in the way people might think.

hatred cradles you by foggystars | 6,829 words | E

“You see?” Carlos asks, hanging up the phone. “He does not pick up.” Oscar shrugs, unsure why Carlos seems to think this is his problem. Just because Oscar’s his teammate doesn’t mean he knows where Lando is at all times, like some sort of twink-seeking missile. Then Carlos says, “I wait for him in here,” and nods to himself. He’s walking into Oscar’s hotel room before he can stop him, and all Oscar can do is blink stupidly at the empty stretch of hallway where Carlos once stood.

in midnight’s jaws by Springsteen | 30,806 words | E

Werewolves are fiction, the stuff of books and movies just like witches and zombies. Men do not turn into wolves, or fly on broomsticks, or raise the dead. There must be a logical explanation for the restlessness in Carlos's blood, for the waves of pain so sudden and intense it feels as though his bones are trying to break free of his body. Surely there is a perfectly good reason for Carlos to have woken in the dirt the morning after a full moon, with no idea where he is or how he got there. And surely there was a reason he turned to Oscar Piastri, of all people, for help.

pulling teeth by arboretics | 9,030 words | Not Rated

Oscar is very private, very in control. Carlos pretends he is both of those things, too. But after a late night collision in Baku 2024, things spiral between them into something straddling a game and an uncomfortable intimacy. A year on, Oscar and Lando are battling for the championship, Carlos is fighting for low points finishes, and Oscar loses his grip on the whole situation.

the better half of a good time by antimonyandthyme | 4,413 words | E

“Most guys, they look at the date.” He manages to make it sound both admiring and chiding. Oscar is very quickly losing control of this conversation. “Do you make a habit of just giving your license out? To every stranger you meet?” “Only those I really like.”

reckless attention by crescenteluce | 4,290 words | E

It’s probably on Oscar to be the bigger person here, to tell Carlos if he can’t do it sober, he shouldn’t be doing it at all. But that’s the thing about Carlos – he doesn’t exactly inspire Oscar to be the best version of himself.

george russell / max verstappen

winning mentality by linearity | 18,500 words | E

It’s not, like, a thing. It’s only happened twice, if you don’t count the time during the pre-season when Max shoved a thigh against George’s crotch, and George, touched-deprived and broken-hearted, let out a sharp gasp and came instantly. Max, looking shocked and frightened, stormed away.

cut your teeth by 140445 | 9,224 words | E

And that is the thing that brought George here. Eat or be eaten. It’ll happen either way. Maybe here, he will like the taste.

full throttle by calenmirel | 3,397 words | E

Later, Max will turn to him, meeting his gaze head on, and ask if George truly hadn’t seen him in his mirrors at turn eight, like George had claimed. He'll rub his hands on his racesuit as he says it, like he'll be rid of the phantom feeling of George's hair from between his fingers if he wipes them hard enough. George will look back at him, licking the taste of Max from the back of his teeth like he can savour it, and will reply, “of course I didn’t,” lying through his smile.

alexander albon / george russell

a feeling all brand new by ginnydear | 16,481 words | M

Alex is halfway through his sandwich when he starts to feel talkative, so he takes a sip of his tea and waits for Logan to finish chewing before he says what’s running through his mind at full speed. “I think I’m homophobic.”

nothing but teeth by crescenteluce | 25,057 words | E

“Oh, come on.” Alex says, poking George in the thigh again with his foot. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done a little-” Alex makes a complicated hand-wavy gesture that has the contents of his glass nearly sloshing over the sides. “At your fancy boy schools, a little stiff upper-lipped make-out amongst the chaps? In between rounds of cricket and fox hunting?”

carlos sainz jr / max verstappen

ease the madness by magnificentbirb | 12,231 words | M

Max signed away his soul on his sixteenth birthday.

pierre gasly / charles leclerc

a long time (maybe forever) by strongestavenger | 10,021 words | T

AITA: homophobic but only to my roommate/best friend? First of all, I swear I have never been a discriminatory person – I have lots of gay friends and my little brother is bisexual. I know that sounds stupid as hell but it’s my only defense right now. My problem is that I (Marc, 26M, straight) have a roommate (Jacques, 28M, gay), who has also been my best friend since we were kids, and I think I’ve started to feel homophobic towards him? (or: Charles needs some outside help to figure things out.)

miscellaneous / general / multi

One thousand laps of jeddah by in_in_in_in_in_in_in | 68,585 words | Gen

George feels sick for the whole ride to the track. He has no idea how he got from breakfast to the car, let alone how he shook off Alex. He knows that he said ‘for god’s sake, Alex, I’m not on drugs’ about a hundred times, even though he’s not at all sure that it’s the truth. What else could have happened to him? Did he dream the race last night?

eat them alive by linearity | 57,000 words | E

Oscar lost Lando a championship and left McLaren. There was still a year in between.

the condominium community committee by jusst_you_wait | 36,452 words | T

the condominium community - 2:36pm Oscar and Logan have been added to the chat George Hello, welcome to a group chat we have for the Formula apartment building! There are only 18 (20 now) of us so we like to keep in contact about the building maintenance and other neighbourly orders of business. I’m George, and I liaise with the building manager on behalf of all of us when there is a building specific issue rather than an apartment issue. Welcome to the building! Lando do u copy and paste that from ur notes every time Alex I bet he has it memorised ~ or, the ridiculous chat fic where the f1 grid all live in the same apartment building

temperature get to you by minieggs11 | 9,339 words | E

It’s Logan’s last ride of the night, it’s clearly two drunk tourists going back to their hotel. As long as they give him a five star rating, he doesn’t care what happens.

sugar and spice by pipitass | 10,785 words | E

“Do you know already? Who you’ll pick?” Oscar frowns. Eyes still closed, scrunched now. Sharp brows downturned, meeting in the middle of his face. “When you win.” The frown deepens for a second. Then his face releases, and he shrugs. Shuffles as he goes to lay down, kicking his shoes off before he brings them up so his toes are poking at Max’s thigh, settling in. “Someone nice.”

triple header by 140445 | 7,890 words | E

Because Oscar isn’t here with Charles. And he’s not here with Max. He doesn’t get it, this thing between Max and Charles. They look like they’re here together, share glances that make Oscar feel like an intruder—but Max brought Oscar back to the booth to sit with them. For Charles to flirt with him. As if it’s some kind of game, where Max brings back prey for Charles to take.

somebody else by piastrism | 31,252 words | E

Oscar misses the color lilac — the color of the twilight sky behind Charles as they drank wine on Sedici, and the long-faded color left behind on his hips by Max’s fingertips.

we'll take the shadows (since the limelight isn't ours) by magnificentbirb | 2,177 words | T

Lando hears the screech of tires on asphalt behind him, the distant crunch of carbon fiber colliding with a wall. He glimpses only the aftermath of the carnage—the dust and smoke, the flashing lights, the unmistakable gleam of bright red—and then he’s clear. And that’s when the seconds slow down.

possessed by light by Anonymous | 6,885 words | Gen

It is a lesson you learn alone. Or that you are supposed to learn alone. At some point you will look at yourself in the mirror and see not just flesh and blood. You will see the capabilities beyond that. You will see your body as a ladder to forever ascend, to always want more. You will see just what you’re made of—and you will realise it has to be used. You will learn not to waste it. Charles did not learn that on his own.

[novthewolf]

hello can give crush edward cullen x fem reader headcanons please 🙏 😊

Edward Cullen having a crush on you :

*-*-*

- The moment you cross that damn classroom door, Edward felt a incredible pull toward you.

- The rapidity of it would be ridiculous. But we all know our melodramatic vampire, he loves to make things complicated.

- He would be in a huge denial. Absolutly disregard any possible feeling for you.

- Edward would actually be scared, 'cause he thinks what he feels for you was plain bloodlust.

- So obviously, he distances himself from you even before your first official interaction.

- You didn't know how to react to this, wondering what you did wrong but tried your best to not let it get to you.

- You two were almost forced together by fate, since you have to work on a history project together.

- His incredible knowledge of history surprised you and intrigued, asking him all the questions you might had and always receiving an answer.

- Edward actually really enjoy your curiousity and got more and more eager to answer you.

- Still, you don’t instantly get closer from that. But slowly, he warms up to you.

- You spend more time together, especially in the library.

- His family doesn't quite understand why he hangs around you. And if you asked him at that moment, he wouldn't know either.

- What he does know is that it's getting harder and harder for him to stay away from you.

- Your presence, the way you smile when he explains something to you, the movements of your hands when you turn the pages of your new book.

- The way your eyes met his...

- Edward made a huge effort to never focus on your mind and read it but sometimes he wanted to know what you were thinking.

- He'd spent a lot of nights laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, replaying your conversations and moments spent with you, a smile grazing his lips unconsciously.

- Alice will get tired of his rambling about you but especially of his denial.

- Edward just couldn't bring himself to admit it, but the crush was there. And he was falling hard.

- As you grow closer, he becomes quite protective of you, as one could expect.

- When you hang out of Forks he is clued to your side, only leaving once he brings you back to your doorstep.

- Edward would be smiling and laughing way more often around you than with anybody else.

- Your whole relationship is really soft and slow but the feelings are there, and raising to the top.

- He would be showing signs of courting. Like, sometimes, out of nowhere he would come by to your house, to drive you to school and a tiny hand-picked bouquet flower will be waiting for you.

- Lifting your bag or books for you, holding the door open, glaring other 'suitors' away...

- "Let me get that for you..." He'd say and grab the book of the top of the shelf you couldn't reach, trapping you against his body.

- You would be constantly on his mind, almost driving him to madness. You managed to settle yourself in his head, but he would be a damn fool if he ever try to erase you.

- Now, everyday when he went off to school, he would arrive with a dumb little lovestruck smile on his face.

- But days aren't enough anymore and he regurlaly come through your window at night and observe you sleep peacefuly.

- He sometimes even clean up your room for you. And it's alway a nice surprise to find a tidy room, despite the fact it was certainly how you remembered it looked like when you went off to sleep.

- However, I don't think he would really act on his crush right away, but eventually... heh...

- No, it's better if you at least do the first step, just to reassure him.

- If you're too shy to explecitly confess your attraction toward him, don't worry you can be subtle, he notices the small details.

- When he notices your attraction, he isn't surprised by it (he is ecstatic don't get me wrong) but rather of his feelings for you.

- Edward would be in shock and need some time away from you, to clear his head.

- But like during the months since he met you, you kept coming back to him. He missed your shy warm fingers grazing against his, your oh so sweet scent, your words and smiles...

- You two had build such strong bound, you trusted him so much and so did he. He wanted to be truthful.

- To do so, Edward guides you through the woods, holding your hand in need be and brushing off leaves from your hair.

- He softly pushed you inside the beautiful clearing that laid in front of you, as he stayed put in the outlooks of the forest.

- So many doubts came whirlwinding in front of him but that caring smile you offered him, to invite him in... God, how could he saw no to you ?

- The vampire felt a deep rumbling in his chest as he took step forward, exposing his darkest self and feelings to you.

- "Don't crush my heart..." He muttered, knowing you wouldn't hear him, but all he needed know, was for you to see him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[coraniaid]

I said in my last rewatch post that Witch was an episode primarily about Buffy and her mother, so let's talk a little bit about Joyce Summers.

Just in case anybody who reads my posts hasn't already noticed: I like Joyce a lot. I certainly don't think the way she behaves is always particularly admirable and I'm not under any illusions about how uninterested in her the narrative of the show often is. But I do like her. I think she is, on balance, an interesting and largely sympathetic figure. And I'd argue pretty strongly that Buffy's relationship with her mother is just a much bigger part of the show and a much more important element of understanding Buffy Summers than a lot of people seem to want to admit.

To some extent, I suspect, this is a subconscious over-correction on my part to what I think is a pretty ugly trend in the current Buffy fandom. That is to say, I think a very vocal minority of people are incredibly unsympathetic to Joyce, in ways that I simply don't think can be explained by either of the (true) observations that she's rarely the focus of an episode or that she and Buffy often have a very strained relationship, especially in the early years of the show. Frankly, I just don't think some of you like middle-aged women very much. But then, that being said, I'm not sure the writers of the show do either.

Indeed, as I've said many times before, it is hard not to unsee the fact that Joyce Summers is basically the only middle-aged woman of any prominence on Buffy at all. Or not to notice that the handful of other older women with prominent parts in the narrative are either outright villains (Catherine Madison in this very episode, Season 3's Gwendolyn Post, Season 4's Professor Walsh) or die abruptly (this season's Jenny Calendar) or both (it is noteworthy that not one of the five women named in this paragraph is alive for the show's final fifty episodes). Bluntly, it often feels that the show's supposed feminism extends only to the grudging admission that perhaps (thin, white) women under twenty five (or centuries-old demons and vampires who look like they're under twenty-five) might be real people, but their mothers definitely aren't.

And, well, that's evidentally what large parts of Tumblr still think, so perhaps the show was ahead of its time.

[Note, please, that the preceding paragraphs are by no means an invitation to tell me I'm wrong and that Joyce is actually an abusive monster. If you are tempted to do so, please believe me when I say I simply do not care about your opinion and I will not listen to or respect it if offered. That goes double if you bring up that stupid retcon from Normal Again which obviously doesn't make the slightest bit of sense and isn't consistent with any previous or subsequent episode.]

That preface out of the way, let's talk about Season 1's Witch.

As I've already mentioned in a different post, Witch marks the end of a run of three consecutive episodes in which Joyce Summers appears, something she won't do again until halfway through Season 2. I don't think this undermines my point that Buffy's relationship with her mother is important to understanding her character, but I do think it's a sign that the show is still figuring out what to do with her.

You could say much the same for Angel (who also wasn't in the pilot, and won't even manage three consecutive on-screen appearances until next season) or even for Willow (who was in the pilot, albeit played by a different actor, and will appear in every episode, yet who so far has had a much smaller role in the plot than either Xander or Giles and whose importance to Buffy won't really start to solidify until the end of this season). Both these characters will become a very important part of Buffy's story, but I think it's fair to say that as of Season 1 we're not quite there yet.

It's also of note that all of Joyce's seven scenes so far have taken the form of one on one conversations with her daughter, with nobody else around. We haven't seen Joyce interact with anybody else in the show (and, in fact, we won't see this happen except for one episode this season). But I don't at all accept the suggestion I sometimes see people make that Joyce is particularly inconsistently written in these opening three episodes. She has a very clear voice and set of motivations throughout.

Let's look at those scenes:

These are:

Joyce driving Buffy to her first day of school in Welcome to the Hellmouth, assuring her she's going to "make friends right away", urging her to "think positive" and awkwardly encouraging her to try not to get kicked out;

Joyce checking in on Buffy while Buffy prepares to go out to the Bronze for the first time, telling her to "be careful" around any boys she might meet, talking about her new art gallery for the first time and assuring her daughter that she thinks "we can make it work here";

Joyce catching Buffy in her room as she prepares to go out to stop the Harvest, telling her that she got a call from Principal Flutie about Buffy skipping classes and worrying out loud that "it's happening again, isn't it?" before (unsuccessfully) forbidding Buffy from leaving the house as an attempted punishment (while offering to make her dinner but telling her she "won't hold it against you" if she prefers to stay in her room and sulk);

Joyce unpacking inventory in the kitchen when Buffy gets back from her first attempt at cheerleading tryouts and offering Buffy vague encouragements before before forced to admit she wasn't sure what Buffy was trying out for, but that she's glad she's taking up cheerleading again because "it'l keep you out of trouble";

Joyce reminiscing about her time in high school, showing Buffy her old junior high yearbook and encouraging her to think about joining the yearbook staff since "the cheerleading thing didn't work out" and it might be "a lot of fun". When Buffy insists that she's not interested in that and that people who work on the yearbook (something which Joyce has literally just told her she did and has fond memories of doing!) are all remarkably unpopular and get rightly bullied for it, her mother is obviously slightly offended and when Buffy insists she's "into my own thing" she snaps that "your own thing, whatever it is, got you kicked out of school!" (which, while she's wrong to say, ... is true? Buffy's "own thing" that she keeps hidden from her mother is Slaying, and Slaying did in fact get her kicked out of school)

Joyce making orange juice in the kitchen the next morning before Buffy leaves for cheerleading practice (not yet realizing that she's been cursed) and attempting to apologize to Buffy for the argument that they had the other day, then being (understandably) baffled when a magically-drunk Buffy starts babbling about being a vampire slayer;

Joyce telling Buffy at the end of Witch that despite "doing a lot of thinking" she has trouble seeing things from Buffy's perspective because she's not a sixteen year old girl herself anymore, but -- when pressed -- admitting that the thought of being sixteen again herself is "a frightful notion" and she certainly wouldn't want to do it

I think that all presents a pretty coherent picture, no? (I vaguely recall somebody on here complaining it was inconsistent that Joyce thought it was safe to let Buffy go the Bronze one minute, but then decided it was too dangerous the next day, but that's very clearly not what's going on here. Joyce has no idea Sunnydale is dangerous: she doesn't let Buffy leave in The Harvest as an attempted punishment, that's all.)

What does Joyce want? Well, she wants Buffy to do well in school, and make friends, and not get into trouble. She wishes she had a better relationship with her daughter and that Buffy wouldn't keep so many secrets from her, but is willing to give her space when she thinks she needs it and apologizes when she recognizes that she's crossed a line. She's very busy with her new job -- do we know if Joyce even had a job, back in LA? I'm not sure we do -- and it doesn't give her much time to do anything else. (Which is necessary, in plot terms, to explain why Buffy is so often able to sneak away to fight vampires or investigate strange goings-on after school, but also informs Joyce's character to a pretty significant degree.)

Despite this, we know that Joyce is trying hard to be a good parent. In Welcome to the Hellmouth she mentions having "read all about the dangers of over-nurturing" and in The Harvest she says that "the tapes all say I should get used to saying [no]". It's true the show itself has a slightly contemptuous attitude to this attempt at self-improvement, and that we're sort of being invited to laugh at Joyce for listening to 'experts' who inherently can't know why her daughter is really behaving the way she is because they don't know anything about vampires or Slaying, but I'm not sure why we should agree with this.

The strong implication here is that a year ago, Buffy and Joyce's relationship was completely different. Then Buffy dropped cheerleading, started getting into fights and staying out late without warning her parents where she was going, and then burned down a school building and got expelled. And she won't (can't) tell her mom why. Why is it unreasonable for Joyce to worry about Buffy getting into trouble again, or to try to find new ways to connect with her or understand her? Would she be a better parent somehow if she was more relaxed about the prospect of her daughter getting into trouble again at her first week in a new school?

Now, I do think it's fair to say that Buffy and Joyce's relationship is in a pretty poor state at the start of this episode. Buffy's reaction to 'Amy' telling her how much she's been training with her mother is to joke "that much quality time with my mom would probably lead to some quality matricide". This is, in fact, the first thing Buffy says about her mother this episode. And yet the last thing Buffy says about her mother -- to her mother, in fact -- is a declaration that she loves her. In fact, Joyce is the first person Buffy will tell that she loves on screen while not under some sort of malign magical influence. So, what changes?

Well, first of all, I'm not sure we should take Buffy's initial reaction to 'Amy' all that seriously. Buffy's first actual conversation with her mother this episode -- in which she brings up how often 'Amy' trains with her mother -- makes it pretty clear that she does actually wish her mom was more involved in her life. But equally she reacts pretty badly to Joyce's suggestion she try to join the yearbook staff instead: in part out seemingly out of genuine disinterest ("Have you seen the kids that do yearbook? Nerds pick on them") but also because she feels this is an attempt by her mom to force her into following in her footsteps. "I'm not you! I'm into my own thing!"

This is, of course, the whole point of this episode. We're invited to compare and contrast Joyce with Amy's abusive mother Catherine, a woman who never got over high school and refuses to accept that her daughter could possibly be into her own thing. After seeing what Catherine does to Amy in her pathetic attempts to relive her own glory days, Buffy is meant to realize how much better than that her own relationship with her mother is.

No, Joyce doesn't understand her the way she used to -- she can't, because [in the literal reading] Buffy is a Vampire Slayer, something she'll hide from her mother for another year and a half, and because [in the metaphorical reading, made explicit by Joyce herself] Buffy is now a teenage girl with teenage problems of her own and no longer the child she used to be -- but that doesn't mean that Joyce doesn't love her or that Buffy no longer loves her mother.

I'd argue that Joyce plays a metaphorical role in the early seasons of the show similar (but distinct from) the role played by Cordelia or Dawn. No, she's not one of Buffy's shadow selves or anything, but -- just like everyone else on the show -- she does exist to tell us things about the character of Buffy Summers. Like Cordelia or Dawn, she represents a link to Buffy's old, pre-Slayer life. She's the only person Buffy is close to who doesn't know about Buffy being the Slayer, something that will continue to be true for a while, and one suspects that she's also the only person who, if she did know, would try to talk her out of it.

Joyce wants Buffy to be a normal girl with a normal life. She wants her to do well in school, take part in extracurricular activities, make friends, go to the school dances and get into a good college. She tells Buffy that she's a "good girl [who] just fell in with the wrong crowd" and -- for some definition of 'the wrong crowd' that wouldn't ever occur to Joyce -- she's right. All of Buffy's problems really did start when she fell in with a group of dangerous weirdos who told her she alone was responsible for saving the world from vampires.

Yes, when the show starts being more explicit in its hints that being "the Slayer" might be a metaphor for Buffy being queer -- when Buffy comes out to her mother at the end of next season and Joyce frets that this is happening "because you didn't have a strong father figure", or we start getting lines about "marching in the Slayer Pride parade" in early Season 3 -- that desire on Joyce's part for Buffy to be "normal" very quickly gives the impression that Joyce herself is (metaphorically) a little bit homophobic, or at least that her view of the world is somewhat unthinkingly heteronormative. (It's noticeable that Joyce claims she's "tried" to march in the Slayer Pride Parade in a way that she suggests she's not actively trying anymore, all while talking about how much she "hates" the fact her daughter is a Slayer.)

[Although, frankly, I think this shows up some of the weakness of Slaying as a metaphor for Buffy being queer, too. It's not unreasonable for Joyce to be upset to learn that Buffy died, which is the context of the quote above. It's not wrong for her to wish Buffy didn't have to risk her life fighting monsters every night. And -- while Joyce's various self-improvement books might have prepared her for what to do if Buffy ever told her she was bi -- there's no way Joyce can be expected to know what "a vampire Slayer" is without a lengthy explanation before Buffy comes out, since there is very literally a global conspiracy in place to keep that information from her!]

But I don't really think that's a factor in Season 1 at all, when "being a Slayer" is a much broader metaphor for, well, just being a teenager and having problems you can't convince your parents are important. And it's important to note that the things Joyce wants for Buffy are, in fact, all things Buffy wants for herself (okay, except for being on the yearbook staff: Joyce is just projecting there). Buffy wants to do well at school! Buffy wants to make new friends! Buffy doesn't want to get kicked out! Buffy wants to go to the big school dances and have her picture in the yearbook! Buffy wants to eventually go off to college! None of these things are unreasonable hopes for Joyce to have about her daughter at all, and Buffy herself will never act as though they are.

And it's noteworthy, I think, that in this season Buffy's relationship with her mother is at its best when Buffy herself is ambivalent about being a Slayer (in the very first episode, when she's insisting to Giles she "doesn't care" about vampires leaving bodies in the school, or at the end of the season when she tries to quit and asks her mother to take her out of town for the weekend). And that Joyce doesn't interact with any of Buffy's friends who know about Slaying until Angel, when a vampire will intrude on Buffy's home life and drag her mother into the world of the supernatural against her will.

(Also, while I'm rambling, I'd argue that Joyce not knowing about Buffy trying out for cheerleading -- something that we don't actually know for a fact she was ever told about in the first place! -- but encouraging her when she finds out is far, far more reasonable than Giles's reaction of trying to forbid Buffy from doing it because he doesn't understand why she'd want to and clearly doesn't think she should have any social life outside of Slaying. I mean, this post isn't about Giles and the show really hasn't settled on the idea of Giles as a father figure yet, but it does really irk me that people who do read Giles as Buffy's metaphorical dad as early as Season 1 are so willing to give him a pass for what is objectively a far shittier thing to try to do.)

(And also also, when it comes to characters whose metaphorical reading as one of Buffy's links to her previous 'normal' life means that they can easily be read as homophobic, it's worth remembering that Joyce is hardly unique. Cordelia repeatedly warns Buffy against associating with "freaks", fully buys into the narrative in Ginerbread that "witches killed those kids" and therefore witches like Amy and Michael deserve to be harassed -- and we all know what "witches" are a metaphor for, right? -- and responds to learning that her best friend in high school has died and been replaced by a demon with immediate relief because, as she herself puts it, the alternative was that said friend was a "great big lesbo". Why do the people who spend so much time talking about Joyce's supposed homophobia as if it's the defining aspect of her personality just airily dismiss all of that? I mean, apart from the fact that Cordelia doesn't remind them of their mother?)

This post is getting too long already, but I do want to jump ahead to a couple of later scenes in the show that I think cast Joyce's behaviour here in a slightly different light. Of course, as I've argued before, I don't think we should think of these as "revealing" things about the character -- I don't believe the show was planned that far ahead -- but I do think they are very consistent with what we've seen on screen so far.

The first is the flashbacks in Becoming (Part 1) when we see a glimpse of Buffy's home life just before she was called as a Slayer. Buffy comes home unexpectedly late, pretends she was staying with her boyfriend Tyler, and this prompts her parents to have a pretty ugly fight (or, well, Hank to scream at Joyce a bit, if I'm being honest). One of the things Hank complains about is that Joyce "can't discipline [Buffy], [so] I have to be the ogre".

This ties pretty nicely into Joyce's earlier line about "the tapes" telling her she needed to get used to saying "no" to her daughter, I think. Buffy reacts to being grounded in The Harvest in much the same way Willow does in Gingerbread: I'm not sure we're meant to think Joyce has ever tried to punish her this way before. Sometimes, later in the first two seasons, I agree Joyce will definitely overreact and ground Buffy for very silly reasons. But I think that's better understood as a temporary phase that happens while Buffy is still being told to keep Slaying secret from her mother despite all the problems it causes her. It's not a fundamental part of what she's like as a parent.

The second is a conversation Joyce and Buffy have early in Season 4 in the episode Fear Itself.

Buffy and her mother are reminiscing about her childhood, Buffy brings up her parents' divorce and suggests she still blames herself for it (because "I'm starting to feel like there's a pattern here: open you heart to someone and he bails on you"). But of course, as Joyce picks up on, this sentiment applies just as much to her as it does Buffy. Joyce is the one who actually got divorced, after all, by a man who (as we'll learn at the end of this first season) Joyce met when she was (at most) nineteen years old.

"You must have noticed that I am not exactly the social butterfly I was when I was with your dad. I don’t think I made a single new friend the year we moved to Sunnydale [Why not?] Fear. I didn’t believe I could trust anyone again."

So, while Joyce is telling Buffy that they're going to make things work in Sunnydale -- encouraging her to take up new hobbies and assuring her that (as she says in her very first scene on the show) "you're going to make new friends right away, just think positive" -- Joyce herself is … working late hours and weekends at a struggling art gallery, trying (and often failing) to reconnect with her daughter, and doesn't have any friends in town.

Now, granted, as I've been saying for a while, I don't think it makes sense to analyse the show through the perspective that anything the show introduces as fact in later seasons must be the only true way to understand previous seasons. Beyond the obvious things like the big Normal Again retcon we won't talk about, the show can't even keep the name of Joyce's sister consistent, and she's only mentioned in two episodes that aired within the same calendar year!

But what we're told in Fear Itself certainly doesn't contradict anything we're shown on screen this season. Joyce doesn't really seem to have much going for her in terms of a social life. All her (brief) attempts at dating again revolve around men (or murderous robots) she meets at work. She's in a reading group, she has one (fairly unpleasant) friend who gets eaten by a zombie, and a sister (in law?) who lives on the other side of the country and who she visits for Thanksgiving once, and that's it. Her life is her job, and her daughter. And that's pretty sad, I think.

It's possible to take this reading to extremes. You could compare Joyce here to Buffy in late Season 5 / Season 6, working in a job she hates to pay the bills (Joyce will letter admit to having nightmares about bills) and worrying that if she can't make Dawn go to school she'll be found unfit to be her guardian (Buffy burnt down a school building! Joyce must've fought pretty hard to keep her out of any more serious punishment than expulsion, and surely the threat of Buffy being taken away from her parents in some way or another was at least raised in private?) and telling herself she doesn't need a life of her own because "I have Dawn's life". But I don't think that's necessarily the best reading, and it's slightly at odds with the explicit moral of Witch itself.

The real reason that Joyce doesn't seem to have much of a life outside of being Buffy's mother is that ... well, the writers of the show just don't find her very interesting or sympathetic. Much like any fictional mother on that era of network TV -- Marge Simpson comes to mind -- Joyce's life is largely empty because the writers of the show she's on can't conceive of a middle aged woman having anything going for her except being a wife and mother. The tragedy of it all isn't really intentional. But that doesn't mean it isn't there in the text.

Maybe the version of the show in my mind -- in which Joyce is a fully rounded character whose relationship with Buffy is at least as important as Buffy's relationship with a man she met for the first time at sixteen -- isn't that close to what the writers of the show were aiming for. But I don't really care, because it's better than the alternative reading where Joyce is merely a one-dimensional obstacle to Buffy's destiny as a Slayer. Better and, I believe, just as consistent with the actual show as it made to the air.

[skimmingmilk]

That scene from Lilo & Stitch (2002) where Nani sings "Aloha 'oe" to Lilo the night before she thinks social services will take her away but it's Sonic staying with Tails till he falls asleep the night before the guardianship court hearing

Oh, absolutely. That scene has been on repeat in my mind for the past several days, my friend. I totally get it. Not sure if you've read it already, but I do have this bonus scene from that night (“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”) that I wrote a little over a year ago for "Sometimes the Picket Fence isn't Perfect." But with Lilo and Stitch (2002) fresh in my mind and feeling so soft about that scene in particular, I decided to add onto that night a little bit as a writing warm-up. It's recommended to read that fic first for context if you haven't already, then come back here, but please enjoy 💙

For eleven years, Sonic didn’t have a family. 

He’d never been the right fit for anyone, never knew what it felt like to be part of something bigger than himself. His edges too uneven and colors too vibrant to simply press him into an empty space in a puzzle and watch him fade into a picture perfect family. On his own, he’d always been enough to paint the whole picture. What you see is what you get. Just Sonic the Hedgehog.

To think it took less than a year to turn his entire worldview on its head.

Despite telling Tails how important it was for them to get some sleep the night before their guardianship hearing, Sonic was still wide awake hours after the fox kit had finally drifted off. He said he’d stay until he fell asleep, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to move. By the dusty moonlight filtered through the open window, green eyes traced a path they’d long-since memorized across Tails’s shadowed face. Even in the dark, he could tell the creases of concentration and worry lines had been smoothed out by the peace of an unconscious mind, too busy recharging for the day ahead of him to be bothered with what-ifs or hypotheticals.

On normal nights, Sonic could relate.

This was anything but.

No matter what the court’s decision was in several hours, nothing would stop them from being family. He’d meant that. It hadn’t been an empty platitude to placate his best friend into going to bed; it was a fact. One he’d fight to the death to defend. 

Sonic the Hedgehog spent eleven years without his family. He wasn’t going to give it up because some stranger refused to sign a scrap of paper. Their imperfect pieces fit each other and the picture they painted together had been beyond anything Sonic ever could’ve imagined.

People always assumed Sonic saved Tails but, while that was true to some degree, it went both ways. Sure it was a lot of work having someone depend on him when he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of anybody but himself, and there’d been times where he wondered if he’d done the right thing by taking Tails with him in the first place. If it had been selfish to keep him. But when the coolest kid on the planet looked up at him and called him his big brother…

How was he supposed to say no to that?

Tails saw him from the very start. He got him on a level no one else had ever bothered to aim for. And he loved him anyway. He wanted him anyway.

Those two days where he’d disappeared, Sonic’s world had been thrown off its axis as a new doubt took root that he hadn’t let himself question since he made the decision to be Tails’s brother. Was he what Tails needed? Was he what Tails wanted? Was the picture they made together, the one Sonic thought was perfect in all their imperfections, what Tails envisioned for his life?

Or did he want something… more?

Something Sonic couldn’t give him.

A mom. A dad. A picket fence. He couldn’t imagine what else. Not when he’d give the kid anything—everything.

…Including give him up, if that was what he really wanted.

But it wasn’t. He didn’t. And Sonic should’ve known, should’ve trusted, that Tails wanted their little, funny-shaped family just as much. That he’d been just as scared of losing it all.

“Will you stay forever?”

“Sonic?” Tails’s sleepy voice slurred his name, cutting through the thoughts clouding his mind. “How come you’re still up?”

Sonic’s smile came easy in the dark. “Guess my mind decided now was as good a time as any for a race or two,” he chuckled. 

“Mm? Thinking hard ‘bout something?”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it, keed. Go back to sleep.”

Brow creasing, Tails squinted at him, trying to make out his features through a half-lidded haze. “…You stayed.”

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

Tails continued to observe him despite the urge to sleep weighing heavy in his eyes. He was searching for something in his response, something Sonic thought he’d tucked well-enough out of sight.

“M’not going anywhere either.”

“Huh?”

Tails sighed gustily and tugged on the part of his blanket still beneath Sonic until he got the picture. He’d never bothered to get under the covers, content to lay atop them while his thoughts gave his feet a run for their money, so he sat up and shifted to the edge of the mattress. He hadn’t been cold, though now that it had been brought to his attention, he could acknowledge the light sea breeze blowing in through the open window making his skin prickle beneath his quills. Tails threw the blanket back and patted the indent he’d left behind, still warm from where he’d been lying.

Sonic settled into his spot beside Tails, tucking himself under the blanket. Tails gave him a moment to get comfortable again before he squirmed over to him, a warm, soft bundle of fur that nestled against his side. It was Tails’s turn to toss an arm and a tail across Sonic, their weight a surprising comfort and not just because he was a little cold.

“Not goin’ anywhere,” Tails repeated, eyes closed as his voice faded into a mumble. “S’okay, you can sleep, too.”

A lump formed in Sonic’s throat, his eyes boring holes into the ceiling as he stared up at it. He could fully understand Tails’s desire to flee to the wilderness to sleep beneath the stars again. To see the sky and the moon and the shadowy tops of trees instead of solid walls closing in on him on all sides.

Tails’s paw gently kneaded against his chest.

“If this doesn’t work,” Sonic croaked, his voice barely a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

They wouldn’t let themselves be separated, they wouldn’t allow it, but the life they’d have to lead… a life on the run, hidden away from society where they could never be found, and cut off from the friendships and supports they were just starting to build here… Tails didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t what was best for him.

Tails deserved a life that was full and bright. A life where he could shine to his fullest potential. A life that wasn’t built on fear and mistrust of everyone around them.

That was why he started all this in the first place. So Tails wouldn’t have to worry or wonder or want things that he couldn’t have. What he thought he didn’t deserve to have.

“M’not,” Tails murmured. “You tried. That’s what matters.”

“I could’ve done it different,” Sonic argued. “I could’ve done better. More. I should’ve told you—”

“You did it your way.” His voice cracked on a yawn before he nuzzled his cheek against Sonic’s shoulder. “Might not’ve been perfect, but that’s okay. S’what you always tell me, right?”

Sonic released a shaky exhale and some of the pressure in his chest eased up, even with the weight of Tails’s arm still holding onto him. “Think the stakes are a bit higher here than usual, keed.”

“Higher than beating ‘Buttnik and saving the world?”

“A bajillion times higher. I can beat ‘Buttnik with my eyes closed,” Sonic huffed. “But dealing with people who decide things like who gets to have a family and who doesn’t… never been too good at that. Never been too good at listening or following instructions or doing what I’m told…”

“No one tells Sonic the Hedgehog what to do,” Tails parroted, too tired to give it the “oomph” it usually carried, but the conviction was still there. “But you still do your best when it matters.”

“What if that’s not good enough this time?” Sonic whispered.

“Mm-mm-mm,” Tails hummed with a sleepy shrug. “But I’ll love you anyway.”

Sonic dragged his stare from the ceiling to look down at the mop of orange fluff snuggled against him. It wasn’t a shock, not when it was something they knew even if the words mostly went unspoken, but hearing it was still something else entirely. A bright splotch of color in the picture of their family. 

Sonic looped his arm around Tails, keeping him where he was, where he belonged. Right by his side. “I love you, too. No matter what. You know that, right?”

“Mm…”

“Tails?”

“Mmhm…”

An airy chuckle escaped him, gently jostling the two of them as Sonic’s smile returned, hopelessly fond. “Thanks for the pep talk, little bro. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And he never wanted to find out. Now that he knew what it was like to belong to a family, to matter so much to someone, and to realize they mattered, too, Sonic couldn’t see life without it. He didn’t want to.

Maybe it was selfish to take Tails away if the verdict wasn’t in their favor. Maybe it had been selfish to take him from the start. But if being selfish meant Tails knew he was wanted and loved and important to someone… then it would be worth it. If they had to run away, Sonic would find other ways to give Tails the life he deserved. Together, they could do anything. They were a team. A family.

And nothing would ever break them apart.

[cottondo]

vox x reader ; please?

Nobody really understood how it happened— it just did one day.

You ended up really hitting it off with the man of Voxtech himself; and wow lookathat, you’re dating him now.

It wasn’t unusual to be waking up in his bed, either. But what something Vox wasn’t used to, was a sunshine personality like yours. Of course you have your devilish charms still, as thats what drew him into you to begin with. But, the small appreciations you had for just about everything? It was weird, right? For a sinner in hell, it was marked as a rare occurrence to see someone like you.

( Other than the Princess of Hell, though she was much more over the top than you were. )

As your eyes opened, surroundings gaining a much clearer focus, you let out a tired little sigh.

There’s a soft buzzing beside you, where Vox was passed out in a deep sleep. It was such a nice state to see him in. Calm, not stressed out and dealing with everyone’s chaotic bullshit.

Honestly, it was nice being awake before everyone else. You could just take in the small beauties of silence before everything got obnoxious.

Your eyes flicker over to the windows, and see a bright neon sign with arrows pointing downward towards its front door.

A brand new building had just opened up, and it was a place you’ve been waiting to check out for a while now. Honestly, you couldn’t contain the excitement. It seemed like it took forever to finish, as most demons tried to overrun it while it was still in a vulnerable state.

With a little gasp, your hand falls to vox’s shoulder, and shake it lightly. “Oh my god, Vox, wake up!”

A static noise enters the air, as a small groan of annoyance leaves the tv screen. “What—”

You smirk, leaning over his shoulder to view his annoyance. “It’s finally open~ we gotta go!”

He heaves out a heavy sigh, turning to lay on his back with a dull, tired expression. “Y/N,”

“Please?” The little pout you made usually got him to do what you wanted, but this time it didn’t. He looked tired and visibly annoyed. Honestly, fair. You did kinda just wake him up in one of the worst ways possible.

“Can you at least let me wake up a little, first?” His lopsided smile made your heart flutter. Fuck, he was just so cute no matter what.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t fall back to sleep.” You fully sit up, crawling over his figure, and hoping to avoid stepping on any part of him in the process of getting off the bed. Standing to your feet on the floor, he **almost** chuckles. “What the hell even is the place you wanna go to, anyway?” His one eye widens out of curiosity over at you.

You roll your eyes, annoyed that he never usually remembered the little things. “The first like, ever, plant shop in hell. Somebody actually got things to grow down here,” you inform, taking a step in front of the mirror. “I think they used, like, human world magic or something.”

Vox sat up, stretching his neck and letting out a little groan. “Since when can anybody just get access to earth?”

You deadpan him briefly, “Does it even matter? I need one.”

He shakes his head, sitting up.

“I don’t know how you can be this happy so early in the morning.” He smiled at you. Holy shit, he actually smiled at how stupid your little obsession with this place was.

“Did— did you just smile~?” You decide to point it out, a smirk curling up to your features.

His eyes widened, body slightly startled at your reaction to him. “What?”

You inch closer to him, a brighter look of excitement as he stares at you in curiosity. “Oh my god you did! I saw you, so there’s no denying it.”

Vox takes on the tv effect to his tone as he looks up at you. “Alright, alright.” He then stands, and you notice how he slightly towers over your idling frame. “Only you can convince me to do shit I normally wouldn’t do.” His screen looks away with an almost embarrassment to it.

Your arms gently slip around his waist, causing him to tense up, arms raising.

“Thank you.” You smirk up at him. It didn’t take much to get him wrapped around your finger.

Vox sighs, lowering his arms, and slinking a hand around your waist. He gently guides you forward into his figure. His little smile comes back, and for a moment, you can actually feel him soften his outer shell with you. “Anything for you, my dear.”

______________________________________

I’m so sorry my writing hasn’t been up to par lately lmao 🥲 Not loving this one rn

[kairismess]

this is what falling in love feels like.

🍰 genre: fluff ! ✒️ word count: 1,113 💭 summary: what it feels like for sakusa to fall in love for his dear old seatmate. 🍥 author's note: FUCK i did NOT anticipate it to be so long what 🎧song inspo: this is what falling in love feels like by jvke

it's hard for sakusa to focus on what the teacher is saying in front, what with you constantly grumbling and crumpling your scratch paper full of notes and solutions in frustration. he silently reaches over your table and plops a spare eraser he had to you. "please don't waste it," he advises you in a hushed tone, going back to the lesson at hand.

his ears perk up when you tell him a soft, 'thank you!' under your breath and erase away at your mistakes, prompting sakusa to prepare another eraser to sacrifice to you. out of everybody at school, only you never seemed to realize how much warmer sakusa was to you compared to everybody else. sure, you used to bother him a lot during your first year when you sat in front of him, but now that he sat in the same row as you, directly next to your chair, you had more opportunities to socialize with him (not that the feeling was always mutual, but he did often listen to you talk).

from remaining silent, glaring at you, and murmuring at you to please go away, he now remains silent... just with an inquisitive energy to him. it was rare for someone to change sakusa's view of them in a matter of half a year, but that was probably why he had developed such an interest in you. you were uniquely annoying, not insufferable, but you were more energetic than him, had a lot more to say, and understood him at certain times.

it was very hard for sakusa to come across a like minded person such as you, hence, he slowly succumbed to letting you just speak your mind to him while he just sat there, listening. that was the first sign he showed that he had some sort of uncommon feelings for you. komori would sometimes join you two, and even he noticed that whenever you tried to include sakusa in the conversation, he would reply to you; they started off as half-assed responses in an effort to satisfy your inquiry, but then, he started seeming a lot more... passionate about talking to you. it was like he enjoyed being in the conversation, all because you were talking to him.

sakusa would often offer you alcohol by readying his alcohol bottle out for you, hand you an extra n-95 mask if you needed it, and even reminded you often to take some vitamins and wear your jacket when its cold; even asking you if you've eaten during lunch, just to make sure, of course.

he also wasn't the type to want to go home with anybody who wasn't family, he disliked the idea of other people knowing where he lived when he wasn't even remotely affiliated with them. however, when he noticed you and komori sometimes heading home together, he'd tag along sometimes under the guise that he and komori had to run an errand before heading home, when really, all he wants to do is hear you talk and walk with you while the sun sets and the day's about to end.

"so... when are you going to confess?" komori asked the dark haired boy as he got a soda from the vending machine. sakusa replied with silence on his end, staring at the blank ceiling as he pondered on what exactly that meant. "...what do you mean?" "i mean like, admit your feelings to them?" the brunette reiterated, smiling awkwardly as sakusa crinkled his eyebrows. "do you not like them?" "...like in what way, i can say i tolerate them," "no, i-i mean... you have a crush on them, doncha, kiyoomi?" he asked sakusa, taking his soda out from the vending machine's dispenser, while sakusa's eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

"...a crush..." the wavy haired boy echoed, looking down at his and his cousin's shoes upon the dirty pavement. "yeah, they're like someone you think of a lot, like the way they behave, the way they speak, the little moments with them; like everything feels better when they're around!" "...feels better when they're around...." the dark haired boy repeated once more, the tips of his ears flushing a little red. "well, you don't have to figure it out right now, it's only been a few months, take your time," komori advised him as sakusa followed him, heading home with the boy.

that entire evening, sakusa lay in his bed, the same scene of him and his cousin by the vending machine by the dirty pavement playing over and over again in his head. then after that scene, he started thinking about the times he'd tag along silently whenever you and komori walked home together, the times you'd talk to him and bother him during class in your first year, the way you scritched and scratched at your paper whenever you made mistakes, how you never came to school with an eraser, hence he always gave you his; how he wishes you used his eraser every day, how he wished you'd think of him while you take your vitamins, or how he wished you'd remember him whenever you'd wear a jacket when going out in the cold.

and at that moment, sakusa's heart flutters for a split second; the color of his cheeks and ears became a deep hue of crimson...

"hey, kiyoomi, do you—" komori was about to ask sakusa for something when he came into his room, only to see his usually stoic cousin blushing hard in bed, his eyes glued to the ceiling as he had his hands clasped over his chest. "uh... y'good?" "...motoya, i think i have a crush," sakusa decided, slowly sitting up from the bed, his blush deepening into a scarlet hue as he looked at his brunette cousin; a dopey smile on the brown haired boy's face, he was in complete and utter disbelief at this news. "w-wow, great!" "it's not great..." sakusa insisted, his blush persisting as he furrowed his eyebrows and lay back down.

"a-and... why not?" komori asked, looking at his cousin with a confused glimmer in his eyes. "...because then i'll shake every time i hand them an eraser, i'll have a crack in my voice every time i reply to their questions, and i'll wanna be close whenever we walk together," sakusa listed down, his blush becoming a tart shade. komori chuckled and was about to leave. "well, my question can wait, but... that's completely normal, kiyoomi, i'll help you out with them!" "please, don't..." sakusa pleaded, flopping over onto his stomach, his face burrowed in the pillows. "...i'll start to think i actually have a chance, and that's the worst kind of feeling."

[lsunncy]

keigo takami x reader. 1343 wc. assistant gn reader. this sucks so that's the only warning (a big one though. i'm not kidding this is something a dog spat up)

“so let’s get down to business.”

“i’m in this meeting already, how much more ‘down to business’ do you want me to be?”

“enough for you to realize what your little stunt cost us today! seriously, hawks, flying into a crowd just to start signing autographs? they could’ve thought there was a villain attack!”

“villain attack? you’re just mad you lost money off of pay-walling my fan service. i’m just trying to be a nice guy.”

“well, that ‘nice guy’ attitude cost us the money from tickets to an event with you, money from the merchandise they’d want you to sign, money from food and drinks from waiting! that ‘nice guy’ attitude lost us money!”

the guy shouting at him was his new publicity manager. the sixth one. in the past four weeks. if you wanted to get even more specific, the guy was technically the eighth in the past four weeks, but the other two had only lasted a few hours, so they didn’t count. he had showed up to the interview the day before in an ironed suit, hair slicked back, and keigo had to sit and watch as he flirted his way to get approved.

“i’m starting to realize why everybody else quit, you feather-brained idiot!” the guy said. keigo scoffed, this new guy had no idea, did he? but he bit his tongue and settled into a deeper slouch in the seat. his clothes were tight, his “put-together” look that he needed to wear when entering and leaving the agency, so that even if paparazzi caught him off the clock he’d still look professional and ready. always the hero.

“everybody else didn’t quit,” he settled for saying. more of a mumble though.

“huh? then who else is left? that little assistant of yours waiting outside?” the guy snapped. his brow furrowed, he looked like everybody else right before they uttered the words- “you really don’t care! i’m going to talk with-”

“with the higher-ups? please, they can’t do anything to me!” keigo snorted. he purposely slid his chair back, reclining it, settling his shoes (with the little bit of mud they still had from the walk through the early morning fog) onto the conference room table.

“well- we’re gonna see about that!” huffing, the guy stood and threw the door open dramatically, letting it slam shut behind him as he stormed through the hallways. standing right beside the swinging door was you.

you did the opposite of what the guy did, instead walking into the room with a sour expression, scowling as you pulled a seat out, before settling into it with a heavy sigh of resignation. pinching the bridge of your nose, you glance up at the golden eyes of the man in front of you, surrounded by a backdrop of bright red feathers. how he managed to look presentable when he acted so oppositely was beyond you.

“what was that for?” you said this time.

“he called me a feather-brained idiot! am i supposed to take that?” keigo laughed. his smirk grew as he watched your eyes narrow and your lips downturn further, before you sighed for the second time.

“you’re supposed to take it, yes. the commissions gonna have to start paying people to even interview, there’s nobody left who wants to try.”

“then there’s nobody left i want to run my stuff. and besides, you’re right here! i don’t need anybody else,” he smiled.

you couldn’t really argue with that. while you had only heard parts of the conversation at the beginning, when the other man had started shouting from his anger, you could make out how he had insulted you first before keigo started to snap back. mostly. he was always sarcastic in a way, even when he was trying to be respectful.

“well, stop thinking that way. i’m already too overworked. you make nothing easy,” you ranted. “you rarely leave your apartment for your shifts unless i bang on your door, you scare off any, and currently all, candidates to help with your other issues, you won’t even let me help you with your own issues so this other stuff can get fixed, you push yourself too hard, to the point you can barely recover, and not even mentioning-”

“i get it. i get it. sorry. that what you want to hear?” keigo hissed. he was mad, actually just annoyed, but even when you complained about worse things he did, he always just acted like this. he straightened his back to leave. “all i want to do is help people, so that nobody needs to get help any more. i don’t know why you’re complaining about those traits when it’s all just traits that make reaching that goal easier. remember? it’s my entire slogan, ‘i just want for the world to be safe enough so that even heroes have time to kill’.”

this is where he’d leave, and the next day you’d wake him up for his shift as though nothing even happened. this same fight. this same conversation. why did you never say anything else? because the only other thing to say is how worried you are, but then he’d ask why you care so much, why are you so worried, and that would open up a ton of more issues, and stress, and you really should just drink some water and get some extra sleep.

this time you couldn’t think straight enough to let him walk off. your little back-and-forth was only making things worse for the both of you (mostly just you, but everything you do has to be done for keigo or else the commission won’t allow it), it was only stressing you both out, it was only making you dislike the way your relationship was. you liked him, more than you should, but you had known him for so long, taken care of him for so long, did more for him than the commission ever did, you had seen him vulnerable. it made you feel really special to him. even if you weren’t. but now you had to be, you had to tell him, because at this point you didn’t know if you’d get another chance. the high-end nomu from a few days ago had only made things worse.

how would you even say it?

“hawks, heroes won’t have time to kill if one of them ends up dead. people won’t be safe if a hero is taken down. i don’t care if you’re sorry, i care that you don’t end up dying because i couldn’t make a call fast enough, or because another hero misjudged an attack when they called for too little back-up, or because some villain shows up who knows too much about you. i just want you here, okay? i don’t want you to be sorry for dying, i’d rather you’re not sorry at all,” you rambled. that was a great way to say it! you know, just saying everything.

he didn’t respond. he watched you through his eyes, now wide and a little unfocused, standing with one hand on the chair as he had been preparing to walk off. he blinked a few times.

“huh???”

“what do you mean ‘huh’? i gave that whole speech and you just said ‘huh’?!”

“wait, no- hold on. i just had to process it for a second. you want me here?” he said. his face was filled with wonder, his eyes were wide. happy?

“i did just say that.”

“huh???”

“stop saying ‘huh’, you idiot!”

“i’m just trying to think about it! you want me!” he cheered, grinning widely.

“no, no, that’s not what i said-”

“yeah, because i read through the lines! you want me!”

“hawks, what the hell?”

he ignored you. he just kept cheering. you shook your head, scowling. when he noticed your expression, he sat back down and looked at you.

“look, i want you too!”

“huh???”

“look who’s saying it now!”

“i said i want you here, and you just said you want me. do you see any kind of difference?”

“no.”

chat can you tell i was actually sleep deprived when i wrote this. that huh thing actually pmo but i'm too lazy to rewrite it. sorry!!!!

any errors please tell me 😭

[specialagentlokitty]

Arthur x reader - our secret

Can you do Arthur with Merlin’s sister who also has magic and uses it to save him and he keeps her secret because he cares about her.🙃🙂 - @faithm120601 💜

Running through the hallways, you were cursing your brother out for making you do this.

You didn’t want to be a part of anything, but he made a good point of Arthur probably had no idea about the intruders, and that somebody had to warn him but it was too last.

Since Merlin could keep them back a little and use his magic without Arthur being there, he then left telling the prince of Camelot to you.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” Leon asked.

“Intruders at the front! Merlin trying to hold them off!” You called.

“What?!”

“Go! I’ll tell Prince Arthur!”

Leon nodded his head and ran in the direction you had just come from while you carried on your route.

You were close, just a few more hallways and you were be there.

Running around the final one, you stopped to take a few breaths, walking over to the doors where there were supposed to be guards.

But there were none and that put you on edge as you approached the large doors.

You could hear the signs of struggling, and you peaked through the gap in the door.

You could see anything, but you could tell there was a fight going on inside, so, cautiously you opened the door a bit more so you could slip in.

Arthur was in there, pinned to the wall, struggling to hold back the sword that was against his neck.

You didn’t know what to do, and in your panic of not wanting to let him die, you raised your hands, eyes turning gold as you whispered something under your breath.

You threw your hand to the side, and the attacker went flying on the floor.

Quickly you lowered your hand and hid yourself behind a cabinet.

“Who’s there?” Arthur called.

He looked around, but couldn’t see anybody.

He couldn’t search the room, he needed to deal with the attacker.

After a few moments you stood up.

“Sire, there’s been intruders, Sir Leon has been told and he has gone to my brother who is at the front of the castle with them.” You said.

Arthur looked at you, then the unconscious man on the floor.

“I think the warning came a bit too late.” He snapped slightly.

“I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could.”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, who else has been told?”

“King Uther, as well as the other guards.” You explained.

Arthur slowly nodded his head, narrowing his eyes at you a little bit.

He carried on binding the man so he couldn’t break free, and began to slowly move around the room.

You watched him carefully, making sure that he was okay.

Seeing movement behind him you looked at it.

“Arthur behind you!”

He wasn’t going to be able to turn around quick enough, you saw that.

So, you did the one thing you’re good at.

Using your magic, you used it to throw a book at the man, and you quickly put your hands behind your back.

“You have magic?!” Arthur hissed.

You said nothing.

He marched over to you, standing right in front of you, sword still clutched tightly in his hands.

“Please don’t tell my brother… or Gaius…” you whispered.

He furrowed his brows.

“They don’t know?”

You sighed, looking at him, shaking your head a little bit.

“No, I knew what would happen to me if anybody found out, I never wanted to bring them into that. They know nothing of it.”

Arthur looked a little confused.

“You know what will happen to you but still you chose to use magic in front of me? Why?”

You gave Arthur a little smile.

“Because you’re the prince, it may not be my duty to protect you, but you were in danger. I would do it over again, between you dying to some intruders, and me being executed for using magic, I guess the choice is as simple as any.”

“You were the one behind the defence last week, aren’t you? Bandits suddenly disappear, what did you do with them?”

“I am, but they didn’t get hurt. I simply trapped them in a different part of the valley to you is all. Then scared them away.”

Arthur slowly nodded his head.

“Why will you not run away?”

“What’s the use? You already know, I knew what my fate would be when I made that choice sire, why run?”

He looked at you and you smiled at him.

“Please Sire, Merlin and Gaius may be confused, but don’t tell them. Tell them I left, I had to go home, I’ll write a note, it’ll be easier on them.”

Arthur sighed softly, nodding his head.

“Of course, I’m sorry it has to come to this.” He said quietly.

You smiled slightly.

“It’s okay.”

You both turned to the door as it was opened, and Uther came rushing in with some guards.

You bowed your head in respect, stepping away from the Prince.

You listened to them as they talk, but stayed lost in your own mind at the same time, not really taking the words in.

You were trying to think of what would happen to your brother, your best friend, you just wanted at least for him to be okay.

“You did this?”

You snapped out of your head, turning to the king, nodding your head.

“Yes sire, I did.”

He looked at you, walking closer.

“You brought down a fully grown man? How?”

You went to speak, but Arthur beat you too it.

“She threw the book! She has a good throw from what I saw.”

Uther turned to his son.

“Threw a book?”

Arthur quickly picked up the book you had used your magic on, and set it down on the cabinet.

“I see.”

Uther turned to you.

“In that case, thank you. I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn’t of come.”

“You needn’t thank me. I would do the same again if I had to.”

Uther smiled a little.

“That’s reassuring to hear, I will have these two taken out and guards placed at the door, more this time. Find somebody to clean this up.”

“I will do it Sire, I’m here already.”

He nodded and left, and you began to clear up the mess that had been made in the room.

After a few minutes when you were sure everybody was gone, you glanced up at Arthur who was just about to leave the room.

You decided not to bring it up there, so you waited.

Maybe he was still going to tell his father, but over the next few days nothing happened.

You found the Prince stood near some shelves, so you walked over, pretending to clean them.

“Sire?”

“Yes?”

Arthur turned to look at you.

“Why haven’t you told anybody?”

“Why would I?”

You glanced at him before turning away.

“You saved my life, I owe you that much to do the same to you at least. But you need to promise me no more.” He whispered.

You slowly shook your head.

“I can’t make that promise, I would do it again if I had to.”

“Then you risk being exposed, please, no more (Y/N)…”

You sighed, turning your attention to him.

“Okay…”

He smiled, looking around before he stepped closer.

“Thank you..”

With that, he brushed his hand against yours as he left with a little smile on his face, and you smiled as well, know at least for now everything was going to be okay.

But who knew what the future would bring

[kairiscorner]

definitely not me self-projecting (pt 1)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie helps you blow off some steam (hobie brown x angry reader)

word count: 1,063

in a blind fit of rage, you slammed your door shut and kicked your shoes off your feet angrily. you hated when your family got like this, teasing you when you were already evidently on the brink of exploding out of sheer anger and frustration. you wished you had a sign that read 'fuck off or see what happens', and if only you could show them just how terrifying you can be when angered. you hated how violent you could be when like this, and as much as you wanted to keep in all the rage you were experiencing right then and there, everything just... came tumbling down.

too many shitty things happening at once while annoyances filled your ears and made their way into your mind was so overwhelming, and the only way you could overcome that overwhelming feeling was to shout at it, get angry it--but you didn't wanna hurt anybody, it never made you feel any better. as you lay down on the bed, trying to breathe, ignoring your parents' unsolicited opinion on your behavior when they don't even know what's going on with you, you heard a voice by your open window. "i have a feeling you wanna rip some heads off some idiots right now." hobie brown, of course it'd be him, who else would scale your apartment's walls at the middle of the night and slink over to your window just to talk?

you turned to your side, feeling your anger mellowing a little from hobie's presence. "i don't wanna talk right now." you muttered, already cursing at yourself in your mind for not being able to sound polite. but fuck, how does one manage to stay polite when they're already resisting the urge to rip shelves off their bedroom walls and throw their bed upside down in a fit of rage?

"can i at least come in, then?" hobie asked you as you nodded, and though it was hard to tell, hobie got the message and entered the minute you let him come in. he sat close to you on the bed as he took in a deep breath, from this distance, he could hear the muffled voices of your parents. hobie chuckled as he listened in. "wow, they're acting like they know everything. it's funny, they're even pretending like they never wanted to act out as teenagers, as if... i don't know, mindless obedience is fun." he said as you peered at him from the corner of your eye, wordlessly.

hobie looked back at you with a smile, one that offered comfort as opposed to condescension–one that was real, a real smile that had no undertones of patronization. "sorry, did i overstep a boundary?" he asked you in a soft, concerned voice. you shook your head and hobie nodded. "alright. well... i won't ask you what happened, since that'd be the last thing you need right now. but i'll do anything you need me to for you to feel better, and i mean anything." he said as he took a pillow from your bed and placed it next to your head.

hobie wordlessly sat with you in the silence, not saying a word and instead offering his presence as comfort for you, he knew that if you wanted to talk about it, you would–he wouldn't ever force it out of you. soon, when you began to speak lightly to hobie about how you've been feeling lately, all hobie did was listen. he'd sit and look at you and... listen.

"well, that isn't your fault now, is it?" hobie asked in a rhetorical manner. "whatever you feel, y'feel it. if you keep it inside of you, it'll just... burst. don't ever feel like a monster for feeling enraged, it's not just one thing that angered you, i think, it's... it's a lot of things, isn't it?" he asked you as he moved closer to you, brushing the hairs away from your face as you gazed up at him. "screw what everyone else says, i like to joke around and tease some grumps i know, but even i know that teasing someone when they're pissed is the wrong move to make. i won't say your behavior was justified, but you just... you can't help it, okay? you need an outlet, and that's why i'm here." he said as he got up and walked over to the window with a big grin.

hobie put on his mask as he sat on your windowsill and teetered on it. "whaddya say we make like a tree and swing out into the night?" he offered you as he extended his hand out to you. you chuckled as you slowly got up and took his hand, with hobie gently pulling you towards his chest as you said, "hobie, trees don't swi–" but you were cut off by your yelping as he swung deep and jumped up high, feeling the cold wind pass you by and sweep your hair away from your face.

into the night, you two went around the city, seeing the beauty hidden in the deep recesses of the evening; taking in the moonlight and the twinkling of the stars as you both made the night yours. you were starting to cool down now, forgetting most of what angered and stressed you out, and feeling like you didn't need to get violent or yell at anyone anymore.

"i hope you're feeling better, i want nothing more than for you to just... feel happy, be happy, y'know." hobie said as he got you a soda from a vending machine he hijacked. you smiled and thanked him as he clinked soda cans with you, thinking if maybe you slept away that anger you felt while you were in your bed. but no, this was no dream–and you couldn't be any more delighted at that.

it's because of hobie that you feel like all things will pass, eventually, you just have to find the right outlet to let go of the bad and negative feelings and thoughts. you weren't bad, you weren't evil for being angry, you were just that–angry, and that was okay. and through hobie, you were now angry no longer, more in love, you were, but like hell you were gonna tell him that, better wait for next time, you thought to yourself as you gulped down the fizzy drink.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @hearts4hobie

[silverbladexyz]

Blue Skies, Tainted Sorrow

TW: Mentions of death. Stormbringer spoilers below!

The Yokohama sky was an exceptionally sorrowful blue.

Normally, the colour blue was associated with stability and harmony, granting a sense of tranquil peace wherever it descended. Favoured in the eyes of many, outshining numerous other shades- with such positive attributes, it was almost laughable, really, how it was also the epitome of sorrow.

But on this particular day, sorrow was the perfect reflection of the sky.

Chuuya sat, unmoving, on a particular protrusion of the building; his vacant eyes staring at the endless expansion of blue stretched out above him.

Calls that were sent to him were left unanswered on his phone, whether it was from you or from the supercomputer Adam that was assisting Chuuya in this case.

You understood your friend all too well to know what he was thinking.

"The hell is he doing?"

Shirase's impatient voice cut through the silence, and you turned your gaze towards him, glaring slightly. Despite all his proclamations about being the future 'King' of the disbanded organisation called the Sheep, he couldn't read the room to save his life, and was a coward in times of true danger. Talk about being a king of foolishness instead.

"I imagine he doesn't want to talk to anybody right now," Adam replied, as he looked up at the motionless teenager. You frowned slightly, glancing back towards the figure sitting on the building. Even though the latter could put on such a convincing act that could fool Dazai himself, anybody could tell that Chuuya was suffering in remorse and self-blame.

You didn't want him to suffer anymore.

"... Please excuse me."

Activating your ability, you teleported right to the same ledge that your friend was situated on, trying not to slip off the uneven surface.

If Chuuya heard you, he gave no sign of acknowledging your presence.

Taking a small breath, you tried to relax yourself as you slowly approached the teenager, speaking in a soft voice.

"... Hey. I just wanted to check up on you. You've been up here for a few hours, and I was starting to get worried."

There was no reply, but you waited patiently, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

"... I'm fine. There's no need for you to concern yourself over me."

It was an usual curt answer that you'd expected to hear from him. You knew that he was like this because he wanted to solely shoulder the guilt of their deaths on his shoulders.

But you weren't going to let him go this easily.

"... This is about the detective, isn't it? And the Flags, as well-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Chuuya had already shot up and faced you, gritting his teeth as he glared silently. You only stared back at him calmly.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"..." He stared off in another direction for a while, before his gaze returned to you again. But instead of anger, there was only a vacant emptiness in his eyes.

"The Flags and Detective-san all died because of me. I'm the one responsible for their deaths. And I have to be the one to stop Verlaine so that there won't be anyone else who end up with the same fate as them."

You stared at him silently, before opening your mouth to speak.

"'You're the one responsible for their deaths'... is that truly all you believe in?"

Chuuya stiffened, and you continued before he could get a chance to rebut.

"You were not the one who murdered them. Verlaine did, in order to 'set you free'. But he doesn't want to force you to come with him, because it'd be going against your own freedom of choice. Instead... he wants you to blame yourself for their deaths. To feel guilty about those lives that he cut away. And make you approach him of your own accord, so that-"

"But Verlaine killed them because he knew I wouldn't leave the Mafia. Even if I wasn't the one who performed the physical act, I'm still the sole reason why they're dead! Can't you see? None of this would have happened if I had just gone with him that time."

The sorrow was evident within him, even as he resorted to his usual angry façade.

"... It is agony. I feel it too. But," you tentatively placed a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, feeling his muscles tense up underneath your touch.

"Just as Mori-san had said, the dead feel no emotion. Things such as revenge and guilt are for the living. However, blaming yourself for their deaths is going to get you nowhere. It hurts, but it is only through this hurt that you can remember who you are fighting for. And please remember that you are not alone. I'll be here for you, and you can rely on me whenever you need me."

"..." Chuuya looked down towards the ground, his body starting to turn away, but you weren't finished yet.

His eyes widened as he felt your arms encircling around him.

Chuuya's instant reflex was to flinch and back away, but you merely tightened your hold on him. His hands lay by his side, but your warmth encouraged him to relax into the hug. It was slightly awkward, as the two of you weren't too well-versed in platonic affections, but that didn't matter in this moment.

"I know that it's been hard for you. I know that it isn't easy to keep on fighting when you have struggles of your own. But I just wanted to tell you... that you'll always be a human in my eyes. And that will never change."

The silence that followed was deafening- and with that, you felt a twinge of panic in you.

Did you happen to say something that upset him? You always knew how Chuuya felt about his humanity, but you never knew how he would react if someone believed that he was human. Your grip around him started to loosen slightly.

Only for two strong arms to hug you back, alongside a face being buried into your shoulder.

It was the first time you ever felt him smile.

Hopefully this did justice to Stormbringer!Chuuya ❣

@circinuus @riiwrites @sariel626 @ruanais @kolyakisses @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @chunshiya @yuugen-benni

[multifandom-exe]

Prompt list :p

i did take this from my old account, but lots of the fics i write are based around this list. Contains: Angst (1-50) Fluff (51-100) sarcasm/humour (101-150) and drama (151-200)

if you wanna request something from this list, just use the character and ‘ prompt 34 from prompt list #2′ thank you! ill write for whoever you want mama.

Theres like 200 so be wary

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you just shut your mouth ?”

“WHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?“

“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”

“What happened between us?”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”

“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”

“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“And I thought you loved me.”

“ And I thought I loved you.”

“ Aren’t you even going to cry?”

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”

“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”

“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”

“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”

“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.

“You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

“Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

“You smell really nice.”

“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

“I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

“Here, let’s share the blanket.”

“You’re comfy.”

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“But I want to hear you sing.”

“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

“Care to give me a back scratch?”

“I think I love you.”

“Your bed head is really cute.”

“How about a kiss?”

“You made this for me?”

Aw, you’re blushing.”

Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”

“Let me help you with that.”

“I don’t want to forget this moment.”

“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

“No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”

“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “

“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”

“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”

“It was always you.”

I love you in every possible way.”

“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”

“Duck, you idiot!”

“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

“Define normal.”  

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”  

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”  

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”  

“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.” 

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”  

“And you wonder why you’re still single.” 

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”  

“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” 

“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”  

“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.” 

“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”  

“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”  

“My middle finger salutes you.”  

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”  

“Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”  

“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”  

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”  

“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”  

“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.” 

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”  

“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”  

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”  

“I need therapy after this.”  

“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”  

“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”  

“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”  

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” 

“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”  

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”  

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”  

“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”  

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”  

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”  

“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”  

“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”  

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”  

“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”  

“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”  

“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.” 

“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”  

“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”  

“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”  

“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”  

“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”  

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.” 

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.” 

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”  

“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”  

“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?” 

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”  

“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.” 

“I know you lied to me.” 

“I’m not even sorry.” 

“You backstabber!” 

“I never want to see you again.” 

“You never mattered to me.” 

“I knew this was a bad idea.” 

“Rot in hell.” 

“It was supposed to be a secret!” 

“No one loves me.” 

“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 

“You made me cry.” 

“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 

“How DARE you?!” 

“I know you’re not talking to me…” 

“I SAW you with him/her/them!” 

“Just leave me alone.” 

"What did you do?!” 

“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.” 

“Just admit that was extra…” 

“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 

“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 

“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 

“There’s something I have to tell you…” 

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 

“I never loved you.” 

“It’s too late.” 

“Quit ignoring me.” 

“Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!” 

“I love you. I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t want to be friends.” 

“Can we please pretend I never said that?” 

“Friendzoned again.” 

“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.” 

“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.” 

“I was there for you when no one else was!” 

“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.” 

“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.” 

“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…” 

“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.” 

“I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.” 

“When I said I loved you, I meant it.” 

“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?” 

“You were the one that left all those notes for me?” 

"You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.” 

“We agreed this was just physical!” 

“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.” 

UGh that was so long, props if you made it this far. No need to credit if you use any, but a like or reblog is appreciated

[fluffy-fics]

VI x Caitlyn Fanfic (AU)

FANFIC CW/TWS: Alcohol, slight death mention, attacking/fighting. 13+ advised ^^

ABOUT THE AU: This takes place AFTER the events of Caitlyn and Vi’s separation, but they meet up somewhere else rather than near Viktor’s camp first. This is just a silly little writing thing, so there will be gaps in the AU of the plot until I can figure out a correct sequence of events ^^

Rain pounded downwards on the street leading up to the small bar, beckoning Caitlyn with every step she took. The dark cloak she beared was soaking wet, causing her to shiver as she felt the cold rain meet her skin. The glow of the light from the tavern gave way as she found her way to the door, pushing against the heavy wooden frame and being met with a plethora of voices. Her striking blue eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of familiarity, but was met with nothing. Something within her longed to see a fragment of that bright strawberry coloured hair peaking through the bustling bodies. 

A sigh escaped Caitlyn’s mouth, feeling a twinge of dissapointment spread through her body and settle in her belly, worming with regret. Her and VI’s last meeting was met with anger, Caitlyn’s own selfishness causing her to injure VI, after she promised that she would never have changed. All of this over VI’s sister, who was responsible for an accident that resulted in the death of Cait’s mom.

She fought back her feelings as she wormed her way through the crowd, the scent of alcohol burning the back of her throat. She found an open stool and sat down, pulling the hood down from her cloak and wringing it out onto the floor. She picked up her head to gaze around the bodies, making sure that nobody noticed- or cared- that she just poured water onto the ground. She had no more patience for anything, the only thing she could think about day and night was VI, her scent, the way that she looked at Caitlyn before she messed everything up months ago. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” A voice protruded into Cait’s head, realizing she had completely zoned out and forgotten where she was. 

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry about that,” she gazed at a person behind her, remembering the sting of alcohol that punched her in the throat. “The strongest thing you have, please.” She watched as the burly bartender poured her a shot of something, and handed it to her. She gratefully took it and inhaled it, shuddering as the liquid burned down into her throat and made her eyes water. She let a cough out, turning away from the bar for merely a moment. She shook her hear slightly and put her cloak on, standing up and barging out of the bar, the cold air rushing towards her as a frigid mist engulfed her. As she walked out of the bar, she heard whispers following behind her. Her eyes gleamed with suspicion, and a looming anxiety wormed in her belly. 

Suddenly she felt a clammy hand grab her wrist. She hissed and tried to pull away, but in an instant the wind was knocked out of her as she was slammed onto the ground. The hood of her cloak flew off, revealing her navy hair and fearful expression. “GET OFF OF ME!” Caitlyn screamed, trying to shake the crowd off of her before finding a trace of familiarity in the attacker’s hooded face. Small blue trickles of a scar crept up the left side of her cheek, and her left arm (cloaked) was too sturdy to be human. 

“SEVIKA!” 

A voice cried out, not her own, but suddenly Caitlyn felt the pressure ease off of her as Sevika and another figure went flying. Cait gasped for air, her hands trembling as her body attempted to ease her out of shock. She heard punches being thrown, hissing, screaming, smelling the tang of blood as it was drawn. But who was her saviour? Caitlyn picked herself up, grabbing a nearby piece of metal from off the slippery asphalt road and held it next to herself defensively, looking around until she saw the two brawling shapes. The figure that had attacked Sevika had a cloak aswell, but as they fought, Caitlyn watched Sevika reach for the hood of the saviour’s cloak, and ripped it off, revealing black oil-slick hair, with hints of red at the ends.

Vi?

NEXT PART

[kamwilliamsonn]

jealousy - Jessie Fleming

request : here

"Jess, hurry! we're going to be late!" you shouted up the stairs to your roommate.

the two of you met at UCLA when you were both 18, you from Australia, her from Canada, you became very close very quickly.

you'd both always felt a little more for each other than you'd let on, but when you both signed for Chelsea, it only made sense to move in together.

ignoring that your very protective captain lived just down the street and would take you in without so much of a mutter.

but you.. well you wanted to live with Jessie. is that a crime?!

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i didn't mean to take so long, i swear. i couldn't pick an outfit." she apologized as she ran down the stairs, stumbling straight into you as you held her waist to keep her stationary.

"it's alright, Jess, no need to worry, didn't think i'd see the day that you, of all people, struggled to find an outfit."

you're glad she took her time though.

wow.

"you look beautiful, n/n." she smiled at you, that smile that makes your heart leap out of your chest.

"let's get going, Freckles, you know Sammy won't be happy if we're late."

the wide eyed look she gave you before running out the door made you burst out laughing as you followed, hopping into the driver's seat and passing her the aux cord.

"there, my passenger princess, play something good, it's gonna set the mood for the whole night."

she blushes at the name but nods, finding your favourite night out playlist, and waiting for the noise to fill the silence.

throughout the night, Jessie couldn't help but notice all the drinks sent your way, you didn't flirt back with any of them, just sent them a smile and a thank you.

but seeing everybody swoon over you, seeing you entertain it with even a smile, made a small pout grow on her face.

her arms crossed over as she slouched into her seat, Niamh looking confused until she saw where her friend was looking, only laughing and patting her shoulder in response.

"just go talk to her, mate, everybody else can see that you're head over heels for each other, even Sam!" she said, louder than she'd thought, and right in Jessie's ear, making her cringe.

"wait- what- no- what do you mean-" Niamh got up and began to walk away, laughing at her best friend. "Niamh! what are you talking about!"

but as she stared at you once more, she couldn't stop thinking how much she wanted to be the one to buy you drinks and have you smile, to kiss you and just be happy.

with you.

the little amount of alcohol had given her a major confidence boost, even more so as she chugged the rest of it, as she went to the bar and bought you another drink - your favourite drink.

she brought it over to you and placed it in front of you, trying to smile charmingly, but it came out more nervous than anything else.

"Jess!" you cheered, happy that your favourite brunette was by your side. "i've missed you."

"you missed me so much you've been flirting with all these other people?" she knew you hadn't been, and even if you had been, it was none of her business.

she just wanted you to be hers.

you raised an eyebrow at her, and leaned in closer. "so what if I was, Freckles, you jealous?"

"of anybody who ever gets to see your smile." she muttered, her eyes flickering to your lips as she spoke.

they flickered back up, quick enough to watch your own eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Jess?"

"yeah, n/n?"

"please kiss me."

"i never thought you'd ask."

hi!! it's been AGES, but I got this request.. idek when, but I've just seen it and I love JFlem so much I couldn't even help it, it's not the longest or the best, but it's Jessie and I hope you all like it :)

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

ANNA NICOLE SMITH AND Y HAD TO B A MODEL AND FAMOUS ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️♐️♎️🔮💗

, So here is A detailed picture of Anna Nicole Smith and her birth chart. And why it was almost inevitable for her to be a model, a glamour model, she's just so beautiful. Courtney Love, Who often doesn’t have anything nice to say about most people

Said Anna was the most beautiful woman she’d ever laid her eyes on.

Let’s go back to tech MEXICA, Texas, there was a beautiful young girl called Vicky Lynn Hogan, who liked the boys and liked to party., beautiful girl. Now let's go into her chart a bit and why this was the case.

So her being a Libra rising, this means that your 7th house is in Aries ♈️, when you have this placement, thing s happen to you at a young age, let’s say, you marry young, or have a baby super young two things Anna did.Because., Aries is the first sign of the Zodiac the baby if you will which means because it's in the 7th house, this is how your relationships will be so Aries are often the 1st to do something, different or outstanding., because they are an action sign, also the age thing my nan got pregnant at 15 or 16. And she was so young and back then she didn’t even know where her baby was gonna come out of that’s how it was then and she’s a lot older than Anna.

, so this young beautiful Vicky Lynn her mum’s the town’s local cop and she’s like obviously rebelling she marries the guy that she works with the fry cook which we’ve all heard about. That guy with the bowl haircut he wasn’t very nice to Anna too.

, in fact I think the only man who is really nice To her In life was Howard Jay Marshall. he told her he wanted to spend time with her, listened to her, and supported her and her young son. So yeah, when she got to the fry cook, they had a baby young called Daniel. So here’s our little back story: now Anna is a Sagittarius, a strong horse of a creature. But the Sagittarius isn’t so strong in her chart because of the Libra. So, what we see in these charts is simplified, and I’ve done a video of it on my TikTok. Please look stop.

So, as we can see, the dominant sign is Libra ♎️, Venus in the 1st house, giving that beauty 😍 card., This is why she was a Marilyn Monroe who wanted to be in the Marilyn Monroe. She was dominant in the air, and With all the other elements split evenly, so she’s a Venus dominant, she’s first house dominant. Anna Libra. Making her perfect to be a supermodel Libra giving her the perfect hips and body of a curvy woman along with the Sagittarius making her an absolute sex icon in the 1st house.., I get it cause I’m a first house person a lot of it centers around yourself and being just you and often I’ve noticed the case when I see it in other people is they don't often have anybody they might meet one person in their life that they feel close to on a deeper level.

And as I always say, with Mars in Capricorn, there’s going to be something to do with a legal battle. Although it’s exalted in Capricorn Mars, you might get a lot of gold diggers with this placement, but with everything else, Anna had in her chart, I don’t believe this is completely the case. I hope this helps people understand how to define astrology a little bit.

[metalnecklace]

Please Let Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (plus size)

Words: 3225

Warnings: Slight age gap (reader is in her late thirties/early forties, Joel is his age just after the show), Mentions of period, Mentions of blood (from period and from violence), Canon Typical Violence, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Ellie.

Notes: This is a second part to Be Good to Me, but can be read as a stand alone. There is just a few small mentions that allude to the first part. This mostly comes from me wanting to take care of Joel because he needs a hug at the very least.

Summary: Joel knows how to take care of people, but it’s time someone takes care of him.

Masterlist Part 1

Joel and I had been getting used to our new routine. Instead of him coming over a few times a month when my period hit, he was coming over all the time. Better yet, I was even going over to his place just as much. Ellie enjoyed having another woman around, and Joel just enjoyed being around me.

It was all going well. We worked together, and he comforted me when I needed it. The only issue was I never felt like I was doing enough in terms of comforting him.

Until we had no other choice.

A group of infected had been traveling through one of our patrol paths, which Joel had immediately volunteered to help clear out. What he didn’t expect was for me to do the same.

He had begged Maria to keep me home and send someone else, but I had been stubborn. After having to stay home from the last few patrols due to period pains, I still felt that need to make up for what I felt I lacked. Joel had insisted that I stay behind, that there was nothing to prove. I didn’t care.

Maria knew I was capable, and didn’t feel the need to find anybody else. So we were sent on our way.

The trail had been relatively quiet for the most part, until we reached the area we had been warned about. We could hear the infected making their way through the woods and had one job: clear them out.

Our guns were loud, but we were able to take down about four of them before they turned to attack. There were at least four more, which was more than we had already anticipated, until another pack came from behind us.

If we had known how many there actually were Maria would’ve sent more people with us. But we did our best.

Joel’s eyes glazed over in a way I hadn’t seen before as he was quick to aim his shotgun, fire, reload, repeat. He was methodical, mesmerizing, almost distracting.

I was right there next to him, taking out one infected after another. Never missing a shot. We finally cleared them after only a few close calls. Joel had walked toward the bodies to be sure there weren’t any still moving when I felt something grab my shoulder.

“Joel!” I screamed out, second nature, as if my body knew what I needed before I did.

His eyes raised to mine, searching for a sign that I was okay for a split second before he aimed his gun over my shoulder. A shot rang out through the air, and a thump sounded on the ground behind my feet.

My blood had gone to ice from the surprise and panic that had flooded my nervous system, but I was luckily unharmed.

Joel still raced to me and held my face in his trembling hands.

“Are you okay?” He was frantic, his eyes flickering to every point on my face. “Are you bit?”

I raised my hands to hold onto his forearms, steadying my breathing again. “I’m fine, Joel, I’m not bit. I’m okay, I promise.”

His eyes slid closed, and he placed his forehead to mine. Our breathing synced as we rested in that spot for a moment.

“It’s okay, Joel,” I whispered into the space between us as he still cradled my face. “We’re okay.”

“I know,” he breathed into our limited space. “I know, I know, I just…”

He trailed off, breathed in deep, and stepped away.

“Let’s get back, okay? I think we’re done here.” His words were calculated, his eyes distant and looking anywhere but at me.

“Okay,” I murmured.

I rode in front while he made sure to keep watch the entire way back. It was absolutely silent, reminding me of before. Before Joel took care of me, before I let him in, before we found a safe haven in each other. Sadness welled within my chest, but I knew it had to wait until we could get to the comfort of our private closed doors. Whether it was mine or his.

Maria was waiting for us at the barn with Tommy, both looking concerned. The two of us must’ve been a sight, considering the blood that was matted into my hair and back of my jacket, and Joel looked like the stone cold statue he used to when he first returned to Jackson. He still had that look around certain people, but not around me.

“Joel?” Tommy asked, going to the older man and taking the reins of his horse.

“They’re taken care of, we’re okay,” Joel responded. He then clapped a hand onto Tommy’s shoulder.

“We’re okay,” he repeated, as if he needed to convince himself more than his brother.

He then turned and walked out of the barn before anybody else could question him further. Maria looked to me for more of an explanation.

“Uh, we’re okay,” I said, wanting to slap myself for the parroted response. “We are. I think he’s just a bit shaken up. I’ll take care of him.”

Tommy and Maria exchanged a glance, but I didn’t linger, needing to find Joel. I walked out of the barn and looked around for where I might find him, but he was gone. I sighed, ready to walk home and hope to find him waiting for me, when I heard something.

It sounded like a gasp, a sharp intake of air from something just around the side of the barn that faced the woods. I rushed over and turned the corner to find Joel bracing himself against the wooden wall with one hand, the other gripping his chest like he needed to reach in and squeeze his heart.

“Joel?” I called softly to him, stepping toward him with caution. I hadn’t seen him in that state before and wasn’t sure he wanted me to, considering he was hidden from everyone else. But he clearly needed help.

He lifted his head and looked to me, making me pause in my tracks. His eyes were glassy, tears already having tracked down his tanned cheeks, and his lip trembled around his labored breathing.

“Oh, Joel.” I went to him, placing my hand over the one laid on his chest, and slipped my other one around his neck.

My fingers slipped into his unruly locks and I pulled him into me. Suddenly his arms wrapped around me and pulled us together even tighter. With his head buried in my neck he fell apart, piece by piece.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped out, muffled by my jacket and hair. “I’m so so sorry, I panicked. I wasn’t quick enough, you could’ve been bit, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

I let him ramble through his grief as I held his head and trembling body to me. We stood there interlocked until his breathing finally evened out.

“Do you need me to get Tommy?” I asked, unsure if he really wanted me to be the one to pick up his pieces. Even though I wanted to, and I would if he asked me.

He pulled away, shaking his head. “No, don’t get Tommy. I don’t need to worry him. I just need to get home.”

I nodded, caressing his cheek with the hand that had been in his hair. “Let’s go home.”

We walked together with an arm around each of us. Some of the townsfolk watched us as if still shocked to see evidence of Joel Miller’s softer, caring side. As if he hadn’t been showing it long enough. I felt both a pride that I got to see that side of him, and a sadness that others didn’t. I wished everybody could see him for the man that he was.

The man that fought, knuckles bloody, for the ones he loved. The man that fell apart when alone, scared to lose the ones he loved. The man that was both sunshine forever warming my soul, and the moonlight I needed to light the darkness.

He was everything.

We came upon my house first, and when I looked to Joel he nodded in approval. Since we had begun our relationship we kept clothes at each other's places. I knew we would eventually move into one, but it hadn’t been long enough for that. We still liked our space, even though most nights one of us would show up at the other's door, unable to sleep without the peace we brought each other.

One night we had met each other halfway, laughing in the dark street until we decided which house would suffice for the night.

Him choosing mine was probably also because he didn’t want to worry Ellie. He trusted her enough to take care of herself for the night, and she knew where he was whenever he didn’t go home. She was like him when it came to caring for their loved ones, and we both knew her heart would be in the right place but Joel needed more peace in that moment than what she usually brought. No offense to her, of course. She always knew how to cheer me up.

I had a feeling that bad jokes and puns weren’t going to be much help, if the way he was still trembling was anything to go by.

We shuffled into the house and kicked our boots off. I hung up my jacket on the coat rack and helped Joel out of his. His eyes still looked distant, but the colour had started to return to his cheeks. I was grateful to have him standing in my home, grateful we were physically okay.

“Why don’t you grab a shower, I’ll get some food going.” I turned to go to the kitchen but his hand gripped my arm.

“Please,” he whispered.

I looked at him, taking in a man whose strength inspired me to get through any day, still seeing that strength show through his fear and grief. I recognized how hard it was for him to ask for help and show me his feelings the way he was, and I appreciated him even more than I thought possible.

Together we walked toward the bathroom. The water came on and started to heat up while we got ready to get in. He let me strip him bare, the act caring and a show of love, before I followed suit.

We had enough hot water to wash the grime and blood that covered us, and he allowed me to do so with his eyes shut tight, breathing starting to regulate through his pouted lips. My fingers burrowed into his hair, scrubbing away the sweat and grit that held onto his locks so tightly. I wondered briefly as he let out soft sighs and moans at the attention if he ever allowed himself to bask in such simple pleasures such as massaging his scalp. Or if instead he just rushed through the process, trying to be as clean as possible without the joys that could be brought from such an action of self care.

My hands slid to his shoulders and chest, but his hands came up to stop me.

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, his eyes opened but lowered. “I can take it from here.”

I shook my head, the droplets of water tapping me on the shoulders. “Please let me.”

He dropped his hands back to his sides and closed his eyes once more. I slid my palms up his chest and over his shoulders, then down his arms. My fingers squeezed lightly as I wrapped them around his biceps, then his forearms. I lifted each hand and scrubbed soap all over, massaging his palms and wrists. After a while I felt his gaze on me, and looked to see him watching my actions. It was like he was transfixed, couldn’t look away as I did my best to help him clean up.

My hands made their way to his ribs and stomach, and I instructed him to turn around so I could wash his back. The knots that were burrowed under his skin were like challenges that I tried my best to undo without pushing too hard. Joel felt like glass under my hands, even though the scars that littered his body proved he wasn’t. But I didn’t want him to shatter anymore.

When I reached lower to his hips I felt his hands place themselves over mine.

“I can take care of the rest,” he mumbled over the water. “You should probably get some of this water before it’s done.”

I kissed his shoulder and hummed in agreement, grateful that he gave me space under the warm spray. Blood swirled at our feet, but it didn’t belong to either of us. Joel had helped me shower a few times when I was bleeding profusely, and it never bothered him. When the blood washed out of my hair I felt him tense up before looking away.

It felt good to finally be clean, even though the hot water ran out right before I washed all the soap off my body. We both got dressed into sweatpants and t-shirts, and made our way into the kitchen. I knew he didn’t want to leave the house, so I searched the cupboards for any snacks I had laying around.

“I think I might just go to bed,” Joel said from behind me. I turned to see him knuckling at one of his eyes with a fist, his hair a mess and clothes slightly rumpled, and my heart squeezed in my chest at the sight.

“You’re not hungry?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You eat, though. I just need some rest, is all.”

I smiled meekly at him. “Okay, hun. You go lay down, I’ll be there in a few.”

He turned and walked away without another word. I quickly shoved one of the homemade granola bars I had made the day before into my mouth and grabbed a couple others to stash upstairs. Joel said he wasn’t hungry, but I knew he would wake up starving in the middle of the night. I also poured a glass of water, chugging it down and filling it back up to bring to him.

The lights were off in our bedroom, but once my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could make out his form on the bed. He always laid on the side closest to the door, making sure he was a barricade between me and whatever horrors he dreamt would break in through the night. However, he was starting to get used to the comforts that Jackson brought, along with the safety, and allowed himself to relax enough to turn his back on his lookout so he could cuddle with me and finally rest.

I placed his water and potential snack on the bedside table and decided to take matters into my own hands. He startled a bit when I pushed against his shoulder, and he turned to face me.

I lifted my chin to gesture that he should move to the other side of the bed.

“What?” He asked, puzzled by my request.

“Move over, baby,” I whispered in the dark, as if we needed to keep quiet. “Please.”

Joel still seemed confused but he did as I requested. Before he could turn around to face me I slid into the bed behind him and proceeded to tuck one of my arms to my chest while the other slid around his ribs to his middle. He sighed when I pressed myself up against him, plastering my body to his back until I couldn’t go any closer.

“What’re you doin’?” His voice rumbled through his back and I found myself nuzzling my face into his neck. The smell of warmth and faint leather keeping me grounded to the earth.

“Taking care of you.”

He sighed again, his ribs expanding under my arm. “Why?”

I smiled against the soft t-shirt he wore, his shoulder a hard muscle underneath.

“Someone has to.”

His laugh was quiet, but it was like music to my ears as his shoulders shook slightly.

We laid like that for a moment, letting our bodies relax further into each other. Eventually he reached his hand down to my thigh and pulled my leg up over his hip so I was fully wrapped around him. When I was settled he took my hand that had found itself splayed against his chest and brought it to his lips. He smudged kisses across my knuckles and then laced his fingers with mine back against his chest.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “I just… I was so scared, sweetheart.”

I felt his ribs stutter around a breath. My heart ached for him but I knew I had to let him work through what he was feeling.

“I can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I was slower, because I wasn’t fast enough as it is.” He choked out a sob, squeezing my hand. I squeezed back once and placed another kiss on his shoulder. “What if I can’t protect you anymore? I couldn’t live with myself if-“

Another sob broke through him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

I held him as his body trembled.

“I can’t lose anybody else.”

My heart shattered hearing him say that. I sniffled, not realizing I had started to cry with him.

“I know, Joel,” I whimpered. “But you didn’t lose me. I’m right here. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“But what about next time?”

“There’s no telling what next time will bring. All we can do is be here, right now. Okay?” I kissed his shoulder again, then leaned forward to kiss his neck. “So be here, with me. Please.”

He nodded slightly. “Okay, darlin’.”

“Get some rest, okay?” I whispered, my eyelids sliding shut from the heavy day.

The silence blanketed around us, while we held each other. His breaths soon became steadier, deeper, lulling me into a deep sleep. I woke up with a start because of Joel rolling me onto my other side.

“Joel? Wha-“ I was flustered and groggy. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting comfortable,” he grunted, finally rolling me over and tucking my body against his. It was his front pressed up against my back, with one of his arms under my head and the other locked around my middle.

“But I’m taking care of you,” I whined even though I closed my eyes again, settling into him.

“I know, darlin’, and you did such a good job.” He kissed my neck, making me squirm against him. “But now I need to hold you, okay? I just need to feel you.”

I hummed, pulling his arm up between my breasts so I could hold onto him. “Okay, Joel. I’m here.”

He chuckled, the puff of air tickling my neck.

I felt sleep pulling me under, further and further until I was balanced between feeling the weight of Joel’s arm holding me down and the drop off into dreamland. Though there wasn’t a single dream that was better than the reality of waking up next to that man. Finally, when I was too far gone to be fully aware of my surroundings I heard Joel speak. Just once before he, too, followed me into sleep.

“I love you.”

———

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