#no i'm not a regular amount of okay or normal about this

[chaoticsoulsword]

Cyrus's appearance in the Christmas event most definitely makes sense assuming both Jasmine and Volkner were involved, and the common theme is Ampharos and the lighthouse. But I feel like there's more to it than a mere cameo.

We know that Cyrus grew up in Sunyshore City so it's no surprise that he's familiar with the lighthouse. But why did he go for its symbolism in the first place when no one touched this subject? In fact, it was more of an association/memory he evoked. This is extremely important.

He was a child back then and we know he endured parental abuse and displayed asocial behavior, preferring the company of machines. But what does the lighthouse have to do with it and why does he sound so melancholic when talking about the lighthouse and the idea it represents?

I'm just wondering and trying to come up with some explanation. Maybe it's not that deep but what if it is? Pokemas tends to add random characters to interact but most often they have some deep/obscure lore that connects them through a common ground. That's the case for Jasmine and Volkner. But what is Cyrus doing here? He has nothing to add to the main story. It's more like a cameo. It feels intentional, though. The devs wanted him there. They wanted us to remember that he grew up in a city with a lighthouse.

What if he was taught that the lighthouse represents hope and it's meant to be a guide, but he never found comfort in that idea because of the trauma he endured? Or what if the lighthouse is connected to Rotom in some way? Sure, the diary was found in Eterna City and Rotom was just to the left, hidden in the Old Chateau/Eterna Forest. But it doesn't really prove where Cyrus first met it.

I'm just going insane with this idea that maybe, just maybe, the answer for him to heal his broken heart and soul is just to believe in the light that guides him in the darkness to a safe place again. He is forcing his way through darkness and loneliness because he wants to avoid the light. SO WHAT WAS THERE IN THE LIGHT IN THE FIRST PLACE THAT MAKES HIM REJECT IT SO FIERCELY?

I NEED TO KNOW. I MUST KNOW. POKEMAS DEVS, I'M IN YOUR WALLS

[aha-chuu]

We the hsr community are really missing out by ignoring the aventio dynamic that is canon and funny.

Because okay. Let's be fr: Ratio has however many degrees, multiple PhDs inside that. He has a job now, obviously, but he also spent a fat while trying and failing to get Nous and the Genius Society to notice him. He's renowned and super smart and has a bunch of achievements and credentials, but that student loan debt,,, fml. And we know from Herta and Asta's dynamic that scientific endeavours aren't just automatically funded.

So for some period of time before the IPC/Intelligentsia Guild snatched him up, I imagine Ratio was bobbing along like those rubber ducks he likes so much. Not broke, exactly, but certainly in the midst of six different projects at any given time and also canonically doing TA work as well like. Relatable king.

Dr Ratio has eaten a pot noodle in his life is what I'm saying.

But that's like,,, regular financial strain. Aventurine's situation is so far removed that to talk about it in just a monetary way would be insane. His net worth was *how much he was sold for*. But you know. He didn't have rent? Aventurine wouldn't have had any concept of what was "normal" between his downtrodden upbringing and horrific early adulthood.

So what I'm saying on that unhappy note is that when Aventurine got with the IPC, it's no wonder he seems most cavalier about dishing out credits. What do they even mean to him?? Money is important and he understands its value obviously - like it's part of his job and he's smart - but his personal experience is at odds with what he knows logically.

(and in some ways, after having been assigned a monetary value himself... I don't think Aventurine can conceive of any amount of money that is worth a person's life. He'll use people as "chips" but that's different)

Anyway. When Ratio was a fresh faced IPC collaborator and stuck with Aventurine as his partner, their first mission must have been insane. Like Aventurine only knows top level IPC people's financial situations so when Ratio is just a reasonably normal guy Aventurine must have been ???? He's still new at this too, you know, does Ratio need bailing out of all this debt? (it's very regular and he's responsibly paying it off ASAP), should Aventurine get on his good side with an extravagant purchase on his own fairly new IPC issued credit card? (he chooses not to because that might flaunt it).

Ratio notices. Obviously. But the biggest issue for him is Aventurine comparative cluelessness more than actual offense. Also like Ratio is certainly NOT poor I'm sure that first IPC paycheck will polish off the student loans entirely.

It's that cluelessness that would them trigger him to try and figure out Why this clearly competent Stoneheart who is obviously very good with money would be so out of his element when faced with a normal financial situation. And Ratio is blunt so he says those words out loud but without any of those complimentary parts. Aventurine is still reeling from someone seeing through his façade.

This isn't going anywhere except Aventurine trying to be a sugar daddy for maybe four days before he clocks onto the situation properly. And Ratio isn't about to say no to paying off that student loan debt a bit faster. And eventually they're both so well compensated by the IPC that when Aventurine casually transfers everyone else 100000 credits just for being in the room, he has to come up with some insane and creative way to shock Ratio. Maybe that's where the gun light cone came from: "if I can't impress you with my shiny new wealth I will certainly do it with my luck 🤗 why are you dialling a crisis line rn"

[neo-percs]

PRAISING:: ( day 3 )

WARNING:: praise, marking, unprotected sex, slightly insecure reader, unprotected sex, fwb! Relationship to lovers, reassurance, fluff, slight angst and mentions of anxiety.

SUMMARY:: after sleeping with Jungkook for months and not putting a label on it you grow envious of your friends who brag about their dating lives.

WORD COUNT:: 1.9K

You were upset, not at your friends for having prevailed relationships and cute stories to tell about them. Your upset at yourself for feeling this way, a bittersweet taste in your mouth as you and almost the entire pack of your friend group had all managed to fit inside your cramped living room in your apartment listening to Mingyu gush about how he had taken the girl he had been on a few dates before and finally asked to make it official.

You were almost green with envy, as a small pressure in your chest grew watching your friend throw his signature smile as he swipes through pictures he had taken of him and his girlfriend on their successful date. You felt stupid, you had no idea why you had ever pitched the idea of a friends with benefits relationship with Jungkook when you knew that you were looking for so much more than sex.

Who knew months down the line what you used to call attraction towards him grew, it felt like he had planted a seed in your heart and it was growing each and every time the both of you had spent an inkling amount of time together. But as the thoughts of doubt began to sprout and spread it felt like the flower that had blossomed inside your heart was slowly wilting away at the thought of him not wanting anything more than sex from you.

You are a full fledged adult, you could speak your mind how you pleased but anxiety had you in such a tight chokehold you could barely feel yourself breathing. You were so out of it that you had realized that time had ticked past and within the next hour of boisterous laughter and stupid jokes everyone seemed to spill out of your apartment all at once leaving behind you and Jungkook who lingered behind cleaning up the small mess that you and him had both made on the coffee table.

Once settling next to you his hand settles on your thigh comfortably, giving a small nudge it knocks you right out of your thoughts. "Are you okay? You seem really out of it" he asks as he grows concerned with how you've been staring into space like you had just found a secret portal burned into the wallpaper of your walls. You shake your head giving a tight lipped smile hoping that would be enough to send him off with no more questions asked. "I'm fine, just a little tired" you lie through your teeth.

"Are you sure? You seem like you have something important on your mind. The last time I saw you think this hard I thought I smelt burning wood" he jokes making you scoff as you push him gently with a grin on your lips. "I'm fine, just wanna lay in my bed and sleep. Nothings going on up there, it's like a desert right now. Completely empty" you point to your head letting your hand fall back in your lap like dead weight.

"Alright, let's get you settled then" he says with a grunt pushing himself up from the comfortable crushed velvet cushions attached to your couch. Holding out a hand to you, your eyes flicker from his face to his hand as if you're almost skeptical to take it, but regardless let him pull you up from the couch. You both move around each other as if this was a normal routine— and yet at this point in time it most likely is how you end your nights.

Changing clothes into pajamas, and brushing your teeth together like any regular couple except you weren't even labeled as such. The thoughts come rushing back as you finally lay down under the warm sheets on your bed. You sigh as you turn on your TV flicking mindlessly through channels hoping to find something remotely entertaining to keep you away from your thoughts and thinking your feelings will subside until the morning. Until you feel the bed beside you dip and from the corner of your eyes you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Can I help you?" You ask cutting the silence between you both "are you going to keep acting like nothings wrong or do you want to spit it out?" He asks seriously in a tone you almost never hear from him. Your tongue pokes at your cheek as you weigh the pros and cons of what the possibilities would be if you told him how you felt. And although the cons outweigh the pros you open your mouth to speak as you get fed up with yourself.

"What are we?" You ask finally and although the weight on your back had been yet to be lifted. "I don't really know, we've never talked about it" he says with a sudden softness to his voice "we have sex, we cuddle, we have sleepovers almost every night, I'm pretty sure half of my clothes are at your place, and we kiss each other goodbye. Things that friends with benefits don't do" you babble mindlessly.

Turning onto your side you turn to look over at his expression only seeing a thoughtful one. "We can be whatever you want us to be— if there is an us" he says as his eyes flicker from his lap to your face, almost nervous at your response. You feel like you could melt into the sheets of your bed and evaporate into thin air. Sucking in a shaky breath you answer "I want us to be official, I'm tired of feeling like you like the aspect of a built in girlfriend, but not the idea of it being me and you" you sigh finally letting the words that had been scratching at the back of your throat for the past 2 months.

His hands suddenly cup your cheeks warming your face up almost immediately he leans in pressing a soft kiss to your lips, chaste yet it got his point across without having to speak. You're finally releasing what felt like a million caged butterflies loose in your stomach. "Will you? Be my girlfriend I mean" he says, correcting himself almost immediately. You let out a small puff of laughter against his lips as you nod as your eyes flutter shut content with the feeling of your forehead pressed against his.

Pecking your lips repeatedly until you reciprocate more desperately, your lips press against his eagerly as they lock. The moment your lips meet more harshly, has been a long time coming, an eruption of your lust. His lips are warm and gentle as he kisses you softly, delicately, as if he isn't sure you're real and he's still checking.

His hand finds their way to your hips pressing down into the sheets not daring to break from the kiss. Soon enough everything becomes blurred into one, your clothes being stripped and discarded to the floor of your bedroom floor Jungkook leaves behind opened mouth kisses against your neck sucking and biting marks onto your supple skin as his hands wonder between your legs. "I've been thinking of this for a while now" he mumbled as he continued to kiss up to your neck and latch his lips with yours.

Letting out a shrill gasp you feel his fingers press against your clit rendering you eager for more, his fingers work to move in figure eights, letting out small moans and whimpers "you're so wet" he whispers against your lips "feels so good against my fingers" he continues his words of praise leaving you clenching around nothing as you whine. "I need you so bad" you whimper, wanting to skip foreplay entirely— not that he opposed either.

"It's okay, I got you" he nods as his legs settle between your thighs Watching the tip of his cock rub up and down your slit as your hips twitch in sensitivity. His cock glistening from a mixture of precum and your slick he presses the head of his cock at your entrance slowly pushing inside you enjoying the warm and tight feeling inside you.

His hands move to either side of your head as he looks down on you with complete adoration in his eyes. Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. Jungkook couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

Jungkook; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs, stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that! I just want you to come inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out.

"Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Jungkook's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his back leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning down to him your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back is arching as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he says breathily "I want you to look at me when you cum okay?" Says opening his eyes looking up at you.

You nod as you let your moans fall past your lips, the sensation building more and more until it became to overwhelming you gasp "I'm gonna cum" you whine as your hips fall more hastily on him, his moans mixed with yours as he drowned in the feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him completely over the edge.

"Fuck" he groaned as warm spurts of cum filled you, grinding down and letting the cum spill past your walls and down the base of his cock you hum as your content with your orgasm. Pulling out he leans over to his side of the bed once more the both of you smiling as you stare at the ceiling. You feel his arm wrap around your waist pulling you closer, kissing the skin on your shoulder you feel comfortable as your breathing slows down.

"You did good. And I want you to know that I don't want anybody else just you" he speaks finally relieving you off all the stress that clouded your mind, nodding off you slip away sleeping with light puffs of air and soft snoring content with your night.

[meet-you-at-the-north-star]

Save the Last Dance For Me

Summary: you and Dick have been dating in secret, until at a party he’s forced by circumstances (coff George Luz coff) to set things straight

Notes: fluff, jealousy

Word count: 1068

“I don't believe you actually have a boyfriend. You were saying that just to throw me off” The brown-eyed soldier insisted in a mocking way.

I smiled to myself and glanced furtively behind me, more or less where I knew the man I was secretely dating must have been.

“Oh you better believe it, George” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, looking at him quite amused.

“Then who is it? Why is it such a secret?” He asked rolling his eyes.

“I'm really not sure you want to know” I smirked, and that was certainly no lie.

“Alright, alright” he raised his arms in surrender. “Tell you what, let's make a deal: I stop asking about this mysterious guy if you agree to dance with me.” The tone was hopeful: “Just one song” He specified, noticing my raised eyebrow.

I didn't see anything wrong with giving him one dance, so I agreed: “Okay, but I don't want to hear another word about it.” I warned him.

He flashed a toothy smile and offered me his hand, in such a funny and theatrical way that it made me burst out laughing. "You're an idiot"

“I know” He winked.

We began to move to the center of the wide room, where other couples were already dancing. He wasn't exactly a talented dancer and kept tripping over my feet, making us both laugh.

About a minute and a half into the song, we managed to find a slightly more synchronized rhythm. I looked up at his face and little by little his usual playful smile had disappeared, his eyes instead fixed on me with an unusually serious and intense look that left little room for misunderstandings.

Uh oh, I thought. This wasn’t good news. I had been too naive to think that accepting to dance with him wouldn’t send involuntary mixed signals.

“George…” I said, instinctively moving away to leave more space between our bodies.

The song we were dancing to came to an end just then. “One more song?” He half pleaded, his expression so hopeful that it broke my heart a little. I didn’t want to be the one to do this to him.

I looked at him gently. “I'm sorry, I can't” I started to take a step back, but he didn't let go of my left hand, still intertwined with his, almost as if he was struggling and fighting the urge to draw me back to him.

“George” I repeated, voice calm but with a hint of warning.

Before I could do or say anything else, I felt a slight shift of air and then a hand coming to rest lightly on my side. I didn't need to look to know who it belonged to.

George’s eyes widened and he immediately let go of my hand. “Major Winters!” He almost stood at attention. “I-I didn't see you there”

I finally allowed myself to shift my attention to Dick. His gaze was firmly fixated on George and he was barely blinking. I saw no trace of anger or irritation in it (though I knew he was quite good at disguising those), but a clear determination that spoke much louder than words.

“No need for formalities, private, this is a party. I trust that you're having fun?” His tone was calm and polite as usual, but for once almost unnaturally so. As a consequence, it came across as slightly menacing.

George must have sensed the trap, because he soon started babbling: “Yes, sir! I mean…a normal, regular amount of fun. Nothing special going on here. Just one dance” He really stressed the word one.

“I'm glad to hear that” Dick smiled, at last turning his attention towards me. “Because I was really looking forward to this next one. Can I have the honor, miss?”

My heart skipped a beat at that. Jealousy was a new but certainly rather good look on him.

“Of course you can, major” I decided to play along even though it was pretty clear, what he was doing.

When I looked to the side, George had already vanished into thin air. I gave a small chuckle. “You didn't need to terrorize him like that”

“I did no such thing” he said with a smirk, quickly intertwining our fingers, while his other hand was still firmly resting on my right side. The band began playing a slower tempo, romantic song and I gladly let him lead me into the music. He was a pretty good dancer. Then again, I was yet to find anything he couldn’t do well.

Both of my eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? What happened to keeping secrecy above all?” I teased him.

“Well, it felt like the situation required that I come clean.” He whispered very close to my ear. “Besides, you didn't seem to mind all that much”

I felt a warm rush of adrenaline going through my body, and hoped I wasn't blushing outwardly as I was on the inside.

I recognized it as the effect only he had on me. Being in his arms felt so natural and right, it left no space for doubt in regards to my feelings for this man, and his for me. And I really didn't mind one bit.

“Who are you and what have you done to Dick Winters” I shook my head in disbelief, laughing.

“Does that mean that I should stop?” He inquired.

Without interrupting our slow swaying back and forth to the rhytmn, I placed both of my hands around his neck, bringing him closer, allowing myself to stare straight into his eyes. “Don't you dare”

I saw a brief flash of hesitation passing through those blue eyes, like an implicit request for permission, and I nodded, smiling.

“I've been waiting to do this all night” He gently cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, slowly but ardently, in front of everyone.

I could hear a few gasps and cheers in the background over the sound of the music playing, but when we turned around everybody had gone back to the party acting as if nothing happened.

“You know, major, your men will definitely talk after this” I jokingly protested.

I could feel his smile on my lips as he kissed me again: “Let them”

[bigassmoonchild]

Meetings

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: When did things ever go your way? First, you nearly lost Simon. And now? You were so close to losing your family because of one stupid fucking thing. You remembered why you kept your distance.

Content Tags: Fluff, Simon being nervous, Simon being Good With Kids, Bits of Intimacy, Violence, Attacks, Fights, Braxton Hicks, Slight Awkwardness, Crying, Comfort, Kind of Hurt/Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I'm entirely unsure of when this series will be ended. It should be soon, unfortunately, but I would love to be able to write for more things (especially the Nine series, I've really been lacking on that). Either way, here she is! Little bit shorter, but it's okay (you'll love it).

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Simon was absolutely terrified. He wasn't entirely sure what to bring to meet your family, but you'd been antagonizing him about trying to bring a suit. 'Just be yourself,' you'd told him. And so he'd packed up a small amount of his wardrobe, some sweats and jeans, a few of his nicer shirts and pants, and a few hoodies and regular shirts.

He still wanted to bring a suit, or something similar, just in case they wanted to go out somewhere nice. He knew only what you told him about your family, about your parents. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he'd do if your father did anything to your or his now almost-pack.

If he was truly scared, he would never tell you. The flight went alright, slight hiccups of turbulence here and there. "Let me drive us there, lovie," he whispered as you waited for your luggage. His hand was resting on the nape of your neck, rubbing against the mating gland softly.

You shook your head. "From what I've heard, you are a horrid driver. I also know how to get home, so I'll have the pleasure of driving us. Carefully," and he gave a short laugh.

Even under his balaclava, he felt rather exposed. Not knowing exactly where he was wasn't something he entirely enjoyed. He was unsure, on alert and rather nervous. He never came around this way, and it had been a long travel for the two of you. A layover or two, you'd ended up stealing his hoodie for comfort at one point (definitely not because you threw up and it got on your shirt).

That was something that helped him, though. Seeing you clearly claimed as his, scent marked and all. It was calming, made him focus on something as the two of you waded through the crowds in the airport and on your way out.

His hand rested on your leg the entire drive to the hotel, just so you could drop everything off and get fully ready for the day ahead of you. He watched, carefully, as you got dressed in a pretty little sundress and make yourself look 'nicer'.

On the ride there, you seemed antsy. Your fingers tapped quickly on the steering wheel, the foot not on the gas was tapping quickly. Your scent was mildly stressed, shifting from your normal, sweet scent to something spicier. His Alpha was bugging him, snarling some things about omega stressed and fix it.

For some time, he allowed his eyes to drift shut. You'd bugged him into wearing just a normal balaclava for this, after some discussions about whether or not he really needed to wear it in front of your family (the answer was yes, obviously).

And as the car slowed to a stop, rocking just slightly with the shift in gears to par, he opened his eyes and breathed deeply. It was a nice little house, not too big but just big enough for a family. No picket fence, he humored himself.

Opening his door, he stepped out and gave a little stretch before coming onto your side and helping you out. You pressed a little kiss against his cheek, letting him drape the jacket he was wearing around your shoulders. You gave him a little smile, and it warmed his heart just enough to shake most of the nerves away.

The front yard was filled with pups of all ages, a few of the older ones sitting on the stoop to watch them. You greeted each one, ruffling some hair and pulling them into side hugs. Simon followed quietly behind, waving a little to the older ones who gave him a strange look.

As you opened the door, a waft of slightly warm air came out. It smelled of apple pie, some stronger spices following closely. The inside looked warm, soft lights turned on in the inner most rooms, pictures hung on the walls of all different people.

Sliding his boots off, he watched as you greeted a few people looking around your age. "Simon, these are my siblings," and you smiled, eyebrows raising in a gesture to make him smile. He gave a short one, just enough for his eyes to squint. Pointing to each one, you gave him a name "Clint, Clair and Arthur," he gave a little wave.

Clair pulled you to the side, whispering quickly into your ear and glancing at Simon every few words. Clint and Arthur dragged him off to the living area, settling him down and tossing a beer into his hands.

"How d'you know her?" Clint gestured to you, walking into the kitchen with Clair and hearing a short squeal.

"Work," he answered easily. "You know what she does?" Clint shrugged and Arthur looked away.

"Just know she's doing some doctor shit," Arthur said, jaw clenching. "Didn't think it'd be military," his eyes found Simons and held the stare.

Simon looked down, not wanting to start a fight the first time he met your family. You'd kill him before any of them got to him. "She's safe," he told them. "Doesn't go on missions or anything, mostly works on the medical bay on base," he told them. Simon would never tell them exactly what happened that day, what felt like centuries ago.

He watched as the heli went down. He heard the shouts, watched as a figure struggled out of the debris and heaved a sigh of relief when your voice called over the coms.

You returned, not too much later, with what appeared to be your mother, sister and possibly father in tow. You sat between Arthur and Simon, looking over to him and giving him a soft smile.

"What is it you brought us all together for," your father huffed deeply. Your mother, in turn, smacked at his arm and threatened him to be nice. He scoffed and looked away, coughing deeply.

You glanced up at Simon one more time. "I wanted to introduce you all to Simon. We're," you paused and breathed deeply. Simons hand found your shoulder, squeezing softly.

"We're mated," he finished your sentence and everyone stared. Hard.

Clint was the first to shoot up, taking a step towards Simon before you jumped between them. Christ, if your brother tried to beat his ass you would kill him. Clint snarled at you, causing Simon to stand. He was tall, you suddenly realized. Much, much taller than Clint.

Your father finally spoke up. "Sit down, Clint," he snarled and the two men sat. "How'd this happen, girl?" You shook your head.

"Just happened," you whispered.

"And we weren't told anything? How long has this been for?"

"I don't know, maybe a year? I've been busy with work," you huffed. You could feel your heartrate rising, heart pounding in your ears before Simon chuffed against your back. You heaved a deep sigh, closing your eyes as his fingers found your wrist gland.

No one spoke for some time, you finally sat next to Simon once more.

"Well I'm happy for you," Clair spoke up. "He seems like a good, strong Alpha. As long as he makes you happy, I'm all good," and you smiled at her. Your mother, off to the side, was nodding with her. With everyone, mostly calmed, small talk began.

A few of your nieces and nephews had piled in after hearing the commotion, piled in the entryway. A few had gone up to Simon, smelling him and he allowed it. Quietly sitting there, letting the pups even climb on him to get a better scent.

"That's not all I wanted to tell you," you whispered, playing with your fingers while watching Simon carefully lower down the little one who'd climbed on him. Your father closed his eyes, leaning back. He breathed deeply, holding his breath for a few moments.

"You're pregnant," he said. "Can smell it, not too different from Arthur," and once again, Clint blew up. He leaped for Simon, snarling hard. Simon didn't move, grabbing the pup in front of him and moving the little one out of the way before Clint landed on him.

Simon didn't respond to the punches battering against him, and Arthur tugged you out of the way. He was the only other Omega, other than your mother. Your father stood, growling loudly before launching into a fit of coughs.

Clint paused, staring down at Simon. "Fucking monster, getting my sister all caught in your messy ass military shit," and you stood. Shoving Clint hard, baring your own teeth. Clint turned on you, eyes wild. He stood over you and snarled, hands moving to reach for you. Simon, at that, finally jumped.

His hands caught Clints, grasping tightly and snarling harshly at him. It quieted everyone, Clint tugging to get his hands out of Simons grasp. "Touch her and I'll break every damned bone in that hand," and Clint finally bared his neck. Submitting.

Clint had always been the big bad Alpha, taking after your father. He'd gotten into so many fights in school, you'd never even had any form of a partner. If he smelled an Alpha on you, even if it had been an accidental brush, they'd be beaten.

A cramp pulled you away from everything, your hand finding your now swelling belly as pains wracked it. A warbled groan fell from your mouth and you felt hands gently wrap around you. They lowered you onto the couch, and when you opened your eyes Simon was crouched just between your legs.

You could smell the fear in his scent, changed from the anger that had just been surrounding it. "'s nothing, Si, probably just some braxton hicks. I'll be okay," and he shook his head.

"Pain isn't normal, lovie," he whispered. "Especially not after some severe stress," he added carefully.

No one moved, just watching the two of you. You smiled carefully, pressing your hands against his cheeks. "I promise," you told him.

He nodded slowly, finally giving in. "He's a good Alpha," your mother spoke up. "I don't care if anyone else here doesn't agree," she added. Your father nodded with her statement, sitting back down and closing his eyes once more.

"Clint can leave," he said and said man scoffed. He grabbed his coat and left, slamming the door shut behind him. You looked to your father, eyes wide. "He protects you. Any good Alpha would do that, packmate or not. I am," he paused. "Accepting of this," he finally finished.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Simon kept something of his touching you the entire time, finally pulling the balaclava off of him to eat. He complimented your mothers cooking, who pushed some of it to Arthur. Simon complimented him, alongside the few pups he could recognize as his.

And as you bid your goodbyes, promising to come back tomorrow for some more talking and celebrating, you watched your father shake Simons hand. There were some whispered words between them, and when Simon came back he once more slid the jacket around your shoulders.

He opened the passenger door for you, closing it carefully and climbing into the drivers seat. The ride back was quiet, and you watched as the lights and houses passed by you. His hand rested on your thigh, your fingers wrapped around a few of his own. His thumb drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, and your head rested against the window.

"That went better than I was expecting," he suddenly spoke up. You gave a wet laugh, tears suddenly brimming your eyes. His head turned to look at you quickly before going back to the road. You could feel the hot tears running down your cheeks, the car slowing to a stop as you opened your eyes.

He pulled the passenger door open, tugging you out and pulling you into his arms. Your nose pressed into his chest, sobs finally spilling out of your chest.

"I just wanted them to love you like I do," you sobbed and he hummed against you, rocking the two of you slightly. Simon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, chuffing gently against you.

"They just need to warm up to it," he whispered. "Once they actually know me, I'm sure they'll begin to accept it more. At least your father accepted me," he added. You nodded against his chest, propping your chin against it and looking up at him. His balaclava was still off, and he gave you a little smile of his own.

His fingers wiped away your tears, allowing you to press back against his chest and breathe deeply. Your tears had stopped, but you still felt so hurt. Your own flesh and blood, and they didn't like him. Clint was supposed to be your older brother, the Alpha who protected you. Not hurt the people you loved.

Your hurt turned to anger, pulling away from Simon. "If that motherfucker touches you again, I swear to god," and he shook his head. In the dark, you couldn't see much of his face. You hoped to god that Clint hadn't left any marks, you weren't sure what you'd do if you found out he had.

"Weren't the best punches I've ever had," he told you. "I've had worse, lovie. I promise you that nothings hurt," and you nodded carefully. His hands cupped your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.

When he pulled back, you whined and he gave a chuckle. "I'll give you more when we get back to the hotel," he told you. You nodded, letting him slide your arms through his jacket and zip it up.

"I love you," you whispered as he opened the passenger door. He pressed another kiss against your lips, squeezing your hand.

"And I love you," he responded. Closing the door, he went around the car and got back in. You watched as the lights flashed across his face, allowing yourself to soak in how he looked.

When you got to the hotel, he opened your door for you and offered a hand. Holding it tightly, he led you to the room. When he slid the key against the door, he opened it for you and led you in by the small of your back.

Kicking the door shut, he pulled you in and kissed you once more. "Bravest little Omega I've ever met," he whispered against your lips and you laughed. "Going to protect me from all the Alphas?" And you nodded, tears of laughter brimming your eyes.

With one more kiss to your lips, he tugged you against his chest. Gently rocking you once more, your arms wrapped around him as much as they could.

"Love you so damn much, Doc," he whispered against your hair.

"'n I love you, Si,"

Taglist:

@sae1kiekie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar @josieguts @actuallyhiswife @the-queen-of-england183 @littlelovebug98 @cringeycookies @averytiredfanfictionwriter @kariiiel @caramlizedtomatoes @krillinitboi @http-paprika @snorklingfae @zoom-zoom77 @lukneetoonz @wise-owl @waves-against-a-cliff @hollowmasque @megkviss @bootabo2000 @ducks118 @bunnyvs @perfectus-in-morte

[bogunicorn]

Inquisition companion coffee orders and how they'd be at a coffee shop, based on the less than a year I spent working at fake starbucks many years ago. In a different order than my last post, just for the hell of it. Some of these are based on real customers that I still remember. I wrote this at 5am when I was high and unable to sleep so keep that in mind if you think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong but you should keep it in mind. H'kay let's go

Josephine: large americano, extra shots, cream and sugar and sometimes a shot of a seasonal flavor if it's a special day. She comes in twice a day, she tips, and the baristas are all trying to figure out how she hasn't had a heart attack yet from having that much caffeine every day. Staff knows her name and likes her.

Dorian: Iced white chocolate mocha. It's the only thing he gets. He will not drink it hot. He will not try a different flavor. He shows up in the morning and orders two, one with ice and one without, and be puts the one without ice in the fridge to drink later. Staff knows him on sight, but they make him state his order every day as if they don't because he doesn't tip.

Varric: regular brewed coffee, but he likes to hang out at the cafe, work on his books, meet with people, etc. He's really nice, he over tips, and sometimes the staff "forgets" to charge him for a refill. He also orders whatever food they're running out of because he figures that means it's popular and therefore good.

Solas: Decaf brewed coffee, and then he puts a disgusting amount of sugar and cream into it. He actually hates coffee and refuses to drink caffeine, but he doesn't come for the drinks, he comes to people watch and do life drawings. He needs the coffee so he has a purchase that can reasonably last him hours before he's expected to spend more money, and hot coffee won't leave condensation on the table and get his paper wet. Staff knows him and their advice to each other is not to ask him questions because he will answer you, at length, in great detail, if it's something he knows about. But he occasionally just puts a couple 20s in the tip jar, so they've decided he's cool but kind of a weird nerd.

Blackwall: Seems like he'd be a "just a NORMAL COFFEE" kind of guy, but he's actually one of the staff's favorite customers. He's some kind of blue collar worker who comes in on the way to work and on the way home, and he gets the same thing every day: regular hot latte in the morning, decaf hot latte at night. He's always there at rush times, but he's polite and he tips even when service is crowded and messy. The baristas start making his coffee when we walks in the door if they notice him, so he rarely has to wait, but he seems flattered and grateful every time.

Sera: Her order is different every time she comes in and it's always something all fucked up and weird. Half the time she just shows them a screenshot on her phone of some complicated meme recipe from TikTok, or she wants whatever technicolor monstrosity frappuccino that's on special. The staff dreads her order, but she also has a habit of getting belligerent with customers who give the staff a hard time, so they're pretty sure Sera is like a part time security guard who demands meme drinks in payment. They're allowed to complain about her if they want, but they'll malicious compliance the fuck out or anyone else who does.

Iron Bull: He doesn't have a single go-to order, but he's nice and likes to ask the staff for recommendations if it's not too busy and lets them test new recipes on him. He always tries the seasonal flavors at least once. Sometimes he comes in with a group of friends who look like trouble on first glance, but Bull pays for them all at once, doesn't let them order blended drinks, and always makes sure they clean up after themselves, so it's okay.

Cullen: Just a NORMAL COFFEE. He's totally overwhelmed by the amount of choices, but this is the closest place to his office and getting out to buy coffee is his excuse to take a break and stretch his legs. The staff knows him and actually responds to "just a normal coffew" because it's too much trouble to interrogate him about which roast or what size cup, because last time he said, "I don't know, something dark? Whatever has the most caffeine in just a regular size to go cup." He's been drinking a medium blonde roast for years and still doesn't know what blonde roast is, save that he thinks he doesn't like it.

Leliana: Two shots of espresso over ice. Leliana had shit to do and she needs that caffeine in her body as fast as possible. The ice is there to keep her from burning her mouth off. She drinks it like it's whiskey and throws out her cup without even breaking stride.

Cole: Year round pumpkin spiced latte. If they're out of the syrup, he gets the cheapest thing on the menu, no add ins, and then doesn't drink it. He rarely comes in on his own; Cole is usually there with a friend and is aware that it's rude to be there without buying, but the pumpkin spice is the only thing he actually likes. He's polite but he creeps out the other customers with his thousand yard stare.

Cassandra: London Fog, but she never remembers what it's called. She drinks it because she wasn't sure and someone recommended it, but the name just will not stick in her head. She orders it as "hot Earl Grey tea with milk", she listens every time they say "okay, so a London Fog", but by the next time she's in she's forgotten. It's not really a big deal, though, she seems pretty overworked. At this point the staff would be sad if she did remember, honestly.

Vivienne: "The Usual". Literally only one barista knows her order, because it's some customized thing that that specific barista made for her once ages ago. Viv knows what's it in but she will not tell you because she doesn't trust anyone but that one barista to make it. If her regular person isn't around, she just gets a hot latte with sugar free vanilla. That one barista also won't tell you what's in it, but that's because Vivienne tips them directly instead of in the jar and they don't want to ruin a good thing.

**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future

[captainsophiestark]

Mad Scientist

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 5 Prompt: "You're the smartest person I know."

Summary: Kol's dating a scientist who's buried in college-level work and more than ready for a ridiculous, fun version of science for a break.

Word Count: 1,685

Category: Fluff, Humor

Shoutout/Credit to The Scientific American for the info on how Mentos-Coke reactions work!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Darling? What do you think would happen if I made pancakes with Mountain Dew instead of water?"

I paused, my pen hovering over the page in the middle of summarizing my findings for a lab I'd been working on at my university. I didn't turn around to face my boyfriend, Kol Mikaelson, who stood behind me in the kitchen, instead just staring off in thought for a moment.

"I don't know," I said, finally turning around to look at Kol. "As far as I'm aware, water's not one of the things like baking soda or eggs that's insanely important to the chemistry of baking. As long as you have the same amount of liquid, it should be fine. Maybe a little sweeter than normal, but basically still a pancake."

Kol grinned. "Excellent."

"What exactly brought this on?" I asked, standing from the kitchen table in the Mikaelson compound where I'd been working and wandering towards my boyfriend. "Just out of curiosity."

"Well you see," he said, holding his hands out in a grand presentation gesture and fixing me with a giant grin. "While I was getting the ingredients for making pancakes, I also found Mountain Dew. The rest is history."

"Interesting..."

I trailed off as I finally reached Kol, stopping so I could hold onto his arm and lean around him to look at the ingredients laid out on the counter, Mountain Dew included. My eyes wandered back to my books, still open and waiting for me on the table. I had no desire to go near them again right now, and this was the absolute perfect distraction. I looked back up at the grinning face of my boyfriend.

"Do you need any help?"

Within half an hour, Kol and I's initial experiment had expanded to encompass the entire kitchen and just about every ingredient we had in it. The Mountain Dew pancakes hadn't been much different than the regular pancakes, so we'd gotten progressively more creative in our ingredient substations, snacking on our successes as we went. My books lay long-forgotten on the table, Kol enabling my chaotic science tendencies in the best way possible.

"What if we put pop rocks in it?" asked Kol as he riffled through a drawer of sweet treats in one corner of the kitchen. I hummed to myself as I mixed our latest version, with orange juice instead of water.

"I don't know," I said. "I think we'll just get little pieces of candy in it without the pop, since the liquid in the batter would probably dissolve the candies enough to trigger the reaction before anything else. We won't know for sure unless we test it, though."

I finished stirring, then wandered over to join Kol. He'd set the pop rocks on the table along with a few other types of candies, and now stood in the open door of the fridge. I rested my head on his arm and hummed thoughtfully, until my eyes landed on something else interesting in the fridge.

"Since you've been back in the modern world... has anyone introduced you to the marvel of Coke and Mentos?"

Kol turned to face me, eyebrows furrowed but a smile on his face.

"No love, I can't say they have."

I grinned. "Then I can't wait to be the one to show you."

I snatched the bottle of Coke out of the fridge, snagging the Mentos and a piece of paper with tape too before plopping them both down on the table where we'd been mixing our batter. Excitedly, Kol joined me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Okay, so first we need to make the tube to hold the Mentos,  to make sure they all drop in at the same time when we want them to," I explained while I worked. I rolled the paper into a tube, covering one end with my thumb and then holding it out for Kol. "Put seven Mentos in there, please."

He complied, sneaking one for himself and then passing one to me. I looked over my shoulder at him, smiling, and he leaned in to give me a soft kiss.

"What's next, darling?" he asked, his voice low. I leaned back into him a little more, but returned my attention to the Mentos.

"Now, it's time for the reaction. Unscrew the lid of the soda, please." Kol took care of it, shifting a little behind me in anticipation. "Good. Now, I'm gonna dump these in, and after I do we're gonna step all the way back, okay?"

"Okay. And what happens after that?"

I shot him a grin over my shoulder. "Science."

With that, I put the tube of Mentos to the neck of the bottle, then quickly moved my thumb and let them drop all at once into the soda.

Kol's grip tightened on my waist as he used his vampire speed to get me to the far edge of the kitchen, hopefully out of the splash zone. A moment later, the reaction started, and the soda quickly bubbled and fizzed until it became a geyser, exploding out of the bottle. Kol gasped from behind me as it hit the ceiling, and I smiled.

The reaction didn't last very long, but once it fizzled down, it took Kol a minute to let me go and move to meet my eyes. He had a ridiculous grin on his face that I quickly mirrored.

"That was amazing, darling," he said. I practically glowed at the compliment.

"Thanks! It's really cool how it all works, actually. See, carbonated beverages are full of dissolved carbon dioxide gas, which wants to form bubbles and escape the pressure of the liquid. But to do that, it has to break its bonds with the water and interact with itself. Because the Mentos candies are actually covered in a bunch of tiny grooves, it makes it easier for the bonds between the carbon dioxide and the water to break, making the reaction of bubbles escaping the soda happen at a much, much faster rate!"

I'd started pacing a little, gesturing with my hands as I explained, but froze when I realized I'd been rambling for more than a little. I turned back to Kol with a grimace.

"Sorry. I know you probably don't care about how it works-"

"What? No! That was excellent, the way you explained everything!" He grabbed my hands in his as he pointedly met my eyes. "Darling, you're the smartest person I know. And it's absolutely incredible. Please don't ever apologize for the way your eyes light up and your voice gets all excited when you talk about something you love. It's one of my favorite things in the world to see."

I started tearing up a little bit at Kol's words, and as soon as he finished speaking I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, kissing him, hard. He smiled into the kiss and wasted no time wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tighter to him. Finally, after a few long moments, I pulled gently away.

"As much fun as I'm having... I do need to finish the lab writeup for my actual science class."

Kol sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then fixed me with a devilish grin.

"Fine. As long as you promise to let me know anytime you have an experiment to do that I can sit in on."

I beamed back at him. "I promise."

Kol gave me a sweet smile, then leaned in and kissed me one last time. Despite the homework hovering in the other corner of the kitchen, I could feel Kol sucking me in and distracting me to the point that I didn't care about my work. I was just about to give in, too, when someone coughed loudly from behind us.

Kol and I turned around to find Elijah standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes scanning the disaster zone the kitchen had turned into. Soda still dripped from the ceiling, and horrifying pancake mutations were spread on almost every surface.

Elijah sighed heavily, his exhausted stare turning back to me and Kol.

"I trust that this will all be cleaned up before the two of you run off to other activities? Preferably sooner than later?" he deadpanned. Kol scoffed, and I tried and failed to fight a guilty grin.

"Yes, Elijah. We'll take care of it," I said. He nodded once, pausing to stare at everything for an extra moment before shaking his head.

"Good."

With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. Even without vampire hearing, I heard his heavy, long-suffering sigh from the other room. I turned to Kol and giggled.

"Oops."

"He loves it," Kol said confidently, waving me off. "We keep his life interesting."

"Well, that second part is definitely true. Come on, let's clean up at least a little bit of the mess. We need to do it at some point anyway, and I really do need to go back to my homework."

Kol booed and rolled his eyes, but moved to start helping me deal with the mess anyway. He picked up the now mostly-empty bottle of soda and held it thoughtfully, then turned to me with a glimmer in his eye that I loved.

"You know darling, if we pointed these in a specific direction for the reaction... we could probably shoot the soda at Elijah and the rest of my siblings."

I grinned. "We absolutely could do that."

We stared at each other for a few beats, nodding slowly, communicating without words.

"I'll superspeed cleanup," Kol finally said. I nodded.

"I'll finish my lab writeup as fast as possible."

"And I'll go get more soda and Mentos while you do."

I high-fived Kol as I crossed the room to retake my seat at the kitchen table and he turned into a vampire-tornado of cleaning. We had evil masterplans to enact, after all, and with the two of us working like a well-oiled machine, the rest of Kol's family and anyone else in this house didn't stand a chance.

****************

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[rindough]

that first anon again: oh my god losing my religion by r.e.m. for boothill. this man is SO full of teenage angst, sitting in the corner of one of those old timey country bars all veiled in shadow looking at the person he has feelings for laughing and dancing in the crowd, completely mesmerised as he rests his chin on a hand with a focused expression, mouth slightly open, and absent-mindedly traces the rim of his glass with a finger from the other, almost without realising. You ain't slick, dude. Go talk to them.

God, I am so fucking normal about him.

OH YA i forgot to reply to a question from ur prev ask, sure! u can give me indie songs as well heheeee, and ngl i wasnt expecting this song but its one of my fav songs to vibe to!!!!

OKOK I GOT THE IDEA AND I FIND IT CUTE buttt i kinda put a twist to it if thats okay!

--;

so lets say you're a regular at this diner in town, you had your fair amount of visits here with your friends, your family, even alone. boothill has seen it all, but god at each time he tries to strike up a conversation with you, it either comes off awkward or him just flying off his seat from trying to 'smoothly' whoosh onto the stool.

he doesn't know what made him this... intrigued by your presence, why is it that everytime the door bell chimes, he glances by the door to see if it was you, the way your voice echo in the quiet diner, the way you spun around after you got your order and straight out the door you walked. he wants to know why and how has he suddenly had the balls to walk up to you, and just start some small talk.

unfortunately on his side, it got to the point where it only ends in 'hi's or 'i see's. he thought he could do it, he thought he could whoosh his way in n perhaps whoosh his way out out this diner with u tagging along. but look at where he is now, it's not that you don't get along, but with the way he looks into your eyes and stutter whatever he wants to say, fumbling over words and fall into silence while you wait, while you search his eyes, his body languages. Waiting for something more, as the man himself got you to become a nervous mess too.

but overtime, he gradually became standoffish, he no longer sits beside you at most of your visits, he doesn't look high up above the diner booth to check if its you (he observes from the window instead 🙄), he just waves, he just stands up to go at your presence, he just-

he no longer visits the diner.

in fear and perhaps shame, he and his cyborg body, you would prefer someone much more... human, right? what does it take for a cyborg like him to woo someone he fancies?

it's impossible, he thought. at this point, he'll just give up and not think about the thing people call, the thing he once dreamt of having, love. he'll just give up the act and focus on some... commission he has or whatever...

but does he really though?

"dude, since day 1, are you still gonna mess this right up?"

the voice behind him pulls him out of his trance, the spunk haired man stays put in his seat, the fold of his index rubbing his bottom lips while a thumb rests on his his sharp jawline. choosing to ignore the blond waiter by his side. the waiter throws his tablecloth aside.

"hello?" he snaps his fingers at him, earning a 'tsk' from the man.

"whaddaya want? can't ya see i'm busy?"

"busy doing what? staring at them from this corner of the bar? i know that look of yours, i saw what happened last time-"

"and what? what makes you think i stand a chance with them, best believe 'm gonna look after them from far away. they don't needa see me here, they don't gotta see me at all."

the waiter groans, as if the man in front of him is being blind or feigning ignorance to escape falling in love, to just... dwell in his insecurities. "bro, look at the way they look at you!"

boothill stays put, eyes blinking at your swaying form, your head shaking side to side at the music. the way you jump, throw your hands up, his mouth falls slightly ajar at the way you move. his throat runs a little dry at the way beauty could exist in many forms and at anytime, and this was one of the many times he had found beauty in you. he had found himself longing for you.

it's agonizing honestly.

both on your end and on his.

you're here swaying to the music from the speakers, mingling with other youngsters in your town, hoping that when you turn around to start talking, it'd be the one you've been looking for this whole time, the one whose clumsy way of flirting leaves you wanting more and more. the night was young and there's ample time for him to visit the diner, but... would he?

for him, he wishes he was the only one under your spotlight, the one making you laugh, oh how he loves the way your lips curl into a smile, the way your eyes twinkle.

if he was out there in the crowd with you, best believe he'll twirl and dip you down on the dancefloor and make you have the best night and dance of your whole life.

he turns his head sideways, looking at the blond. "what's with the way they look at me?"

then he turns back to observe you. maybe, just maybe, you would turn around at a certain degree and meet his yearning gaze. wondering if he can make you feel his presences by drilling holes into your skull.

"..." at this point he's defeated, he can't be bothered to explain all these lovey-dovey pre-dating crush nonsense to this sulking cowboy.

"y'kno mister, they've been looking for you every time when you're not around the diner. do i gotta explain more? do i gotta explain the 'where's boothill? have you seen him? has he visited today?'" he mocks, "ya wanna know what happened when i told them no every single time? they just left the diner- not ordering anything!"

the spunk haired man hums, now no longer focused on you, but instead, his back facing the crowd as he stares into the prepared drink before him, finger circling the rim of the glass as the complaints of the waiter goes unheard.

if what the man was saying is true, then... but... why? what made him special enough for you to promptly ask for him at every visit. and he bet it was every visit, since he's not even in the diner every day for months. so, why did he have to leave?

was it the fear of judgement?

was it fear of rejection?

or was it the fear of losing you?

so-

"so?" the waiter quirks an eyebrow, "what do you plan to do with that information-"

he can't back down now, the aftertaste of soulglad lingers the back of his mouth, he's walking, walking towards the crowd, thank god your back was facing him... otherwise he wouldn't be doing what he was doing now, otherwise he'd instantly run away again. and he does not plan to let you search for him again.

"hey." he whispers, smiling gently at the way you suck in your breath at the sight of him.

he never thought he'd feel his heart melt much more than before the moment your soft lips mellow into a smile, the twinkle of your eyes refreshing his past, yet brief memories with you.

"hi."

--;

©  2024 rindough, do not repost or plagiarize.

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Thirteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (a small amount of masturbation) Alcohol / Drinking, Suggestive conversations, dicking around on the job, Mentions of Sexual preferences, Flirting, Fluff, terrible dad jokes, and unfortunate amounts of pirate comments.

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Jake is still reeling from the events of the night before, when Charlotte rolls up with a wonderful proposition that he could NEVER refuse. Leading them into a fun game that helps him get through the rest of the night.

Author's Note: THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN. They really are so precious and watching them learn how to interact with each other has me giggling and kicking my feet. (even though I'm quite literally in charge of them 💀) Can't wait to hear how you guys feel after this one!! 💕😍

Bathroom Light - Mt Joy "So, come on, baby, let's do this right, I think I like falling in love in the bar bathroom light."

“I feel like we should talk.” 

Not my favorite thing she’s said to me, if we’re being honest. Charlotte’s leant against the doorframe to my office, her hands are busy playing with the dainty rings she has on. 

“Okay,” I say, “you can come all the way into the room though.” She scurried in, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

“I don’t know how to say this,” she starts, sounding timid, which is unusual for her. 

I can’t stop myself from speaking up, “Did I overstep?” 

“Oh my god, no. No, not at all,” she spits out. “I actually.. um.” She looks back down at her hands, a small grin grows on her face. 

My eyebrow pops up, waiting for her, “What?” Comes out with a slight laugh. 

“Maybe we could be friends who, like..” her face turning red as she whispers, “maybe hook up sometimes..” 

We’re friends? She wants to - with me? I- oh my god. 

“Oh,” I can hardly form words with the speed my brain is moving at, “Oh, uh, we can. Yes. I would be okay with that.” My eyes finally met hers, knowing full well that I probably look far too excited. 

“Really?” 

I watch her chew the inside of her lip and see her hands shake slightly, which honestly makes me feel a bit better. At least I'm not the only one who gets nervous. I reach out, grabbing one of her hands with both of mine, which gets her to look back at me. 

“Really,” I say quietly, “Whatever you're comfortable with.” Finally standing up from my desk, she just looks at me, and I can’t quite tell what's going on inside that pretty little head of hers. 

Suddenly her arms are wrapped around my neck in a hug, catching me off guard. I let my arms sit around her waist as she lets out the sweetest little laugh next to my ear. 

“You’re sure about this?” she asks, leaning back to look at me. I get to spend more time with her and possibly get laid once in a while? YEAH, I THINK I’M SURE. 

“You can be the Captain of this ship,” I tell her, choking back a laugh as hard as I can. 

She does not; she drops her head, leaning against me as she barks out a laugh. Her small frame just shook against me, but at least this time, it was happy. 

Still laughing, she looks back up at me, “You’re so dumb,” she manages to get out before leaning forward to press a sweet kiss on my lips. I could get used to that.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I didn’t anticipate the torture that I would endure after that conversation, having to be around her in the bar and stay normal about it. She already made me feel on edge, in a good way, before the last twenty-four hours, but now it’s ungodly how tense my body feels. 

I try to spend as much time cleaning and talking to the regulars that have come in, but I continuously find myself looking at her. I just want to talk to her. 

I pull out my phone, quickly type out a message, and slide it under the bar in front of me. 

Me: so.. does this mean I can just.. kiss you if we’re not around people?

My hands sweat at the thought, but god, what I’d give to kiss her again right now. I glance over as she picks her phone up, seeing the smirk creep onto her face. Looking around the bar to see if anybody might need something until my phone lights up. 

Charlotte: I'd like that. 🤭

Charlotte: You have a pretty mouth, so I think we should. 

Feeling warm at the compliment. A pretty mouth? I had been told on a multitude of occasions that I’m a bit more feminine, but given that my counterpart is Josh, who keeps his hair short and has facial hair, I don’t think I had much of a fighting chance. But I’ve never been complimented like that before, and I think I liked it.  

Me: play along 

I walk over to where she’s sitting, and her eyebrows pull in for a second looking at me. Sliding carefully behind Mel and Josh, I lean against the bar facing her. 

“Can you come with me? I need your opinion on if something is up to code,” I tell her, my voice at a normal volume but giving her a slow wink. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she replies, “Mel, I’ll be right back.” 

I meet her at the end of the bar, gesturing toward the hallway and leading her to our cooler. Once we’re out of sight, sticking my hand out behind me for her which she immediately grabs. We round the corner into the back room, and I turn to face her, pulling her into me. Tilting her chin up with my free hand, seeing her smile as I do. 

“Hi,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss against my lips. 

Letting out a small ‘mmm’ as my arms rest around her waist, “Let me just—“ Leaning in, noticing the way she doesn’t actually close her eyes. She just watches my mouth. Feeling her hands find their place on my stomach as I take her bottom lip between mine, making my heart shake. I wonder what makes her feel like this. Pulling my arms back slightly, letting my hands hold her waist, lightly squeezing her when I feel her hands grab my shirt. That must be something. 

“So, about that opinion,” I whisper into her, making her giggle. She reaches up, wiping the smudge of lipstick she left on me, and my stomach turns at how gentle she is.

Her eyes slowly look up, meeting my stare as she lets out a quiet, “I think that exceeds the standard, for sure.” 

We both hear footsteps in the hall; backing away from her quickly and folding my arms across my chest as she nods when Mel rounds the corner into the cooler.

“Jake, the POS is living up to its name.. Can you help?” she rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated. 

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right there.” 

We both watch as Mel quickly turns, leaving the room looking fairly defeated. Standing there in silence for a matter of a few seconds before we both let out a quiet laugh. 

“I guess I need to do my job,” I whisper to her, making her smile. She turns to face me, fixing my shirt for me and moving a rogue hair back into place. Her hands linger on my chest as she looks at me, which only makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild. 

The smirk on her face is killing me when she says, “Go save them, boss man.” 

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The bar continued to get busier, making it harder and harder for me to not actually do my job. Almost as if flirting with pretty girls isn’t in my job description or something. Stealing little glances at her any chance I could while we quietly texted each other random things. 

Charlotte: You have to stop looking at me like that 

I grab the empty glasses from a table, walking back towards the bar but sneaking up behind her. 

“Like what?” I whisper next to her ear, setting the glasses on the bar top in front of her. Giggling as she jumps slightly, scowling at me, but that doesn’t stop my stare. It would be easier if she wasn’t gorgeous. My eyes fell between her lips and holding eye contact.  

“That,” she whispers back, “whatever that is.”  She leans into her hand while the other falls into her lap. 

“You don’t like it?” I ask, forcing myself to stay focused on her eyes. Leaning onto the bar next to her, letting my hand hang over the edge. 

She smiled softly, “No, it’s terrible,” oozing with sarcasm fell from her lips, feeling her hand graze mine. 

My head tilts slightly as my eyebrows raise, “and why is that, honey?” I whisper, pulling my bottom lip in with my teeth, watching as her face flushes. 

Forcing myself to back up, grabbing the glasses as I go, what I wouldn't give to just spend the night with her instead? 

Me: do you like being called honey? 

I set my phone under the bar, pouring a few drinks for the regulars sitting there, trying not to look over at her, but it’s impossible. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see her pulling up her phone. What if she hates it? 

Charlotte: Mmmm I might 🤭

I'll never be sure what possessed me to call her that the first time. I've always just used ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’ because they feel safe and really can’t be taken too out of context. Also, to be entirely honest, I typically don’t get far enough with a girl to give her a cuter pet name than those.  It just sort of came out when I saw her start to melt down, and it’s stuck. 

Charlotte: Do you like that I use your full name? 

Her sweet voice calling me ‘Jacob’ plays in my head on a loop, so it’s safe to say I don’t mind it. Although, the way she called me ‘baby’ made me want to crawl out of my skin. She had me wrapped around her finger in that moment.  

Me: you can call me whatever your heart desires 

I looked over at her, saw her smile at the response, and quickly started to type. This game of twenty questions is definitely making tonight go by a little faster. 

Charlotte: That doesn’t really roll off the tongue nicely- I think I’ll stick with calling you by name or baby 😉

I audibly laugh at her text, unprepared for her to get me with a classic dad joke. It was almost enough to distract me from the last part, but no such luck as my heart fluttered at the pet name. I could go for hearing that a little more often. Wandering over towards her, I lean down as I grab the glass from in front of her and whisper, “You’re more than welcome to slip a ‘Captain’ in the mix as well, yknow?” 

She leans into her hand, propped up on the bar, “So, you do like that, huh?” 

“Felt a little different coming out of you,” I tell her, shrugging as I back up a little and biting the inside of my lip as she watches me. 

Her eyes rake down me before letting out a quiet, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I help Josh for a few minutes, pouring a handful of drinks for some regulars and running to grab orders from a few of the new tables that just came in. Rounding back behind the bar, I slide my phone out of my pocket quickly. 

Me: since we’re doing this- do you have questions or shall I continue 

Tossing my phone under the bar, turning to wash a handful of glasses for them. I try to just focus on what I’m doing. But I just want to pay attention to her. I turn around as I’m drying and putting away the glasses, doing my best to scan the room for anybody who may need anything. My eyes fixate on her as she sets her phone down and looks over at me. I pick up my pace drying, sliding the glasses onto their shelf quickly so I can grab my phone, needing to know what she said. 

Charlotte: I’m assuming you’re a physical touch person? 

Me: you would be correct but I’d like to say I can cover all the bases if you like something else more. 

I’ve always been a touch person, especially given that I’ve spent my whole life with Josh. He can’t go two seconds without grabbing your arm if he’s telling you something. So, it’s definitely something I’d developed over time and also suffered from; the lack of physical touch I’ve had in the last couple of years is contributing to the urge to ask her every two minutes to meet me somewhere hidden. Even though I would do whatever she prefers, I just hope she enjoys physical touch because I don’t know how I’m supposed to avoid it. 

Charlotte: Oh, touch is near the top with words of affirmation for me, so I think you’re doing just fine 

Knowing she likes words of affirmation makes my stomach knot up, the amount of things I’ve held back because I don’t want to overwhelm her. But I’ll tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen every day if she’ll let me. Despite the fact she was just being open, I decided to test the waters on this situation we’ve put ourselves in. 

Me: soo.. does that mean you like to be..reassured or no?

Hitting send, I immediately feel like I’m sweating. I pour a few beers waiting for her reply, hoping that she knows what I meant and that she doesn’t take back everything she said in my office today. 

Charlotte: A little praise never hurt anybody.

I whip my head over to her, and my hand wipes over my mouth as she smiles at me. The fact I’m blushing over the answer to the question I asked feels ridiculous. Why did I think this was a good idea? Making eye contact with someone at the bar who wants to order, I walk over to them. Taking their order and turning to grab all the bottles needed for it, I slide my phone from my pocket, setting it on the counter as she texts me again.  

Charlotte: Do you always like to be the Captain? Or do you like to let others assist? 

My eyes shut while I take a deeper breath; why is she doing this to me? Forcing myself to focus on mixing their drink, but my brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. She did have a little dominant streak in her yesterday. I grab a napkin and bring the drink back over to them, nodding as they thank me. 

‘All for me, baby?’ plays in my head, and I guess I had never thought about preferences like that before. Most girls I had been with at this point wanted nothing to do with being in control. I also was typically not the most sober in these instances, so it’s debatable how dominant I even was. They just wanted me to do the work, which in the grand scheme, was fine. 

The way that she wants to have control makes my body tingle. Something about the idea of her telling me what she wants me to do is kind of hot. She basically had me begging for her yesterday, so maybe I’m a bit more submissive than I thought. I get head one time, and I’m reflecting on my entire sex life. Jesus Christ, chill out. 

Me: I’ll gladly let you steer anyday, don’t have to ask twice 

I wipe down the back counter, reorganizing a bit, anything to keep my brain from spiraling out of control over her. I wash some glasses in painfully hot water in hopes that it’ll prevent anything uncomfortable from happening to me while I’m just trying to get through this shift with her. 

After a few minutes of torture, I pick up my phone again. 

Charlotte: In that case, meet me in the bathroom? 

I’ve never replied faster.

Me: 🫡  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Couldn’t wait any longer?” Winking at her as I lock the door behind me. 

Her smile is devious as she runs her hands up my chest, “When you look like this? Not at all.” Tugging me closer by my shirt, tilting her head back as I lean in to kiss her. 

All I can think is how lucky I am that I’m in this weird little situation with her. The fact that she’s communicating things to me, even if we’re doing it in a kind of vague way, makes me feel a little more confident with anything that’s potentially going to happen. 

Pulling away from the kiss for a second, I gently move some hair away from her face, just taking her in. My other hand is holding her lower back, keeping her close. The way she’s looking at me makes my heart pound. 

“Can I ask you something while we're here?” I mumble, watching her eyebrows pull together. 

“Obviously.” 

“I just want to hear your response to this one,” I start. “Can you promise me that if I say or do something that you don’t like, you’ll tell me?” 

Her eyes softened at the question. Her hands grabbed the sides of my face as she pressed a soft peck against my lips.

“Of course, I will. Promise.” 

“I never want to make you uncomfortable,” I mumble against her, “okay?” 

Her soft laugh against my lips before pressing a few sweet kisses into me, I swear this girl could get me to fold so easily. 

“You really are something, Jacob.” 

My stomach flips as the sentence leaves her lips. My heartbeat felt stronger than before, and my mouth basically ran dry; what is she doing to me? The look in her eyes as we stared at each other in the subtle glow of the light, even after the past few days, I’d be lying if I said she didn’t still make me nervous. Every kiss makes it feel like there are fireworks in my chest and a ton of excited butterflies in my stomach; my entire body gets warm, and I have to fight the slight tremor in my hands, so she doesn’t know. But god, this girl has me stumbling over myself every day.

“What if we just stay in here for the rest of the night?” I whisper into her.

Her hands slid down onto my stomach, “I think they might notice we’ve disappeared.” 

“Unfortunate, innit?” the English accent sneaking out of me, making her laugh. If that’s all it takes, I’ll use it more. “Why don’t you go back out there first? I’ll go to the backroom first, so it’s more convincing.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Captain,” she winks as she pats my stomach and then quickly sneaks out the door. Leaving me there, speechless, staring at the door for a moment. I think I just tripped.

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I hid in the backroom for a few minutes, bringing out a handful of things to restock with. I try to wipe the smile off my face when I can feel her eyes on me. I have Mel run to the tables and get some drink orders taken care of; she’s been trapped behind the bar all night, at least get her a few minutes of a new scenery. 

It feels nice to make drinks mindlessly for customers sometimes. The muscle memory starts to kick in, and I can just go for a while. It’s just a bonus having Charlotte sitting at the end of the bar, intently watching every move I make.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching Melody?” I tease, sliding a drink to her. 

Her hands rake through her curls, softly laughing as she says, “Well, she isn’t making drinks right now, is she?” 

“So you’re making sure I know what I’m doing then?”

“Something like that,” she says, biting her lip subtly. The goosebumps erupt on my arms instantly when she does that. 

Folding my arms across my chest, I look at her to ask, “Anything notable?” 

She slides her paper out for a second, quickly tucking it away so I can’t see what she’s written down. Sneaky little thing.

“You seem good.. with your hands,” she tilts her head slightly, slowly blinking at me. I can’t stop myself from smirking at the comment. I had noticed before that she watched my hands, but nothing was more validating than that comment. 

I step closer to the bar, leaning towards her a little so I can whisper, “Guess you’ll have to find out.” I watch her jaw slack at my comment, chuckling to myself. Seeing her flustered makes me feel less insane for being so antsy all night. The way she shifts in her seat as I look at her, I don’t think someone has ever reacted to my stare like this before. 

We spend the rest of Mel’s shift making unbearably tense eye contact, which makes me want to get her alone even more. She stayed for a little longer after Melody left, but I practically begged her to get home before it was too late. Something about the thought of her trying to drive in the Old Port when all the late-night bargoers are out just makes me nervous. 

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After what has seemingly become our nightly routine of walking her to her car, with the new bonus of getting to kiss her before she leaves, I’m met with an empty apartment. 

She won’t be home for a little bit. I pull open the fridge staring mindlessly, realizing that I’m not even really hungry. Taking the opportunity since Josh isn’t home, I wander into the bathroom, starting the shower. 

I stood under the hot water, letting it beat against me for a moment. My brain runs rampant with thoughts of her, still unable to process that she’s giving me any time, let alone wanting to spend more time with me. 

My eyes close as I think of the way she touches me; her hands are so delicate, and she’s so careful. Her hands always find a spot on my chest or stomach when she kisses me. Grabbing fistfuls of my shirt when we make out. Her lips though— those are something to write home about. God, I really was touch starved. 

My heart flutters at the thought of her kiss and how good it felt with her. Even when she was just leaving tiny pecks down my neck, I swear I could get goosebumps just from the memory. It had been so long since I even had the option I forgot how exciting it was. 

The thought of her sitting on my lap, her hands tangled into my hair, god. I feel the twitch, trying to ignore it. No, don’t be weird, Jake. Just think about something else. Rinsing the shampoo out of my hair and trying to refocus, but all I can hear in my head is, “all for me, baby?” A small groan comes from me, and I can’t stop myself from sliding my cock through my fist to relieve some of the tension. 

Her lips wrapped around me, the way she seemed like she was enjoying it, and her little moans as she slid me as deep into her mouth as she could. 

“Fuck,” I mutter, stroking myself a little faster. The visual of her on her knees for me has me reaching out to hold myself up. How is she real?

My hips jerked forward as I heard her voice in my head saying, “Come on, Captain.” 

Another moan sneaks out, my eyes fixed shut at this point, wishing she were here. God, she was so good. The way she swirled her tongue around me, her hair wrapped around my fist. Her green eyes look up at me as she takes just about all of me into her mouth, holy shit, I’m–.

“Fuck me, Charlotte,” I quietly groan as my orgasm washes over me. The water is hardly even warm at this point, while I frantically clean myself off to avoid a cold shower— that’s five minutes too late. 

Tapping my phone as I’m drying myself off. One Missed Call. Unlocking it instantly, seeing her name sitting there, I call her back with no hesitation. Is she okay? She hasn’t called me until she’s home before. 

“Hiii,” her soft voice dances around in my ear. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I spit out, knowing I probably sound insane. 

“Oh! Yes, everything’s fine! I'm just still driving,” she replies; a sigh of relief escapes me, grateful that she’s okay. Until all my nerves come flooding back when she says, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

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Chapter Twelve

Chapter Fourteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[pineappleciders]

heyy first of all its me the fucked up dream anon (now going by dream anon how original) second of all ive decided im going to learn about south park purely through your work so can i get some tweek (ive latched onto that boy) and whoever else you want (probably the main boys) with a reader (all platonic ofc) who's got that #anxiety? thanks even if you dont do it <33

🌌🌟/dream anon

main 4 + tweek with a reader who has anxiety; platonic headcanons

A/N: haii :3 i apologize if this like, distorts your vision of the characters or something. i am so glad you are being converted to the religion of tweek!!!!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety disorders, light mental health topics, paranoia, panic/anxiety attacks, death mention on kennys part

stan marsh

i think stan has a normal amount of anxiety. like he's so regular. he's your average joe

like he gets anxious over tests, and giving speeches, and over wendy. other than that he doesn't experience it to the extent of a disorder

so it might be a little difficult for him to imagine getting anxious over simple things like ordering food and stuff like that

he'll try his best to listen though, although he'll probably try to kinda reason with you, esp if you're feeling paranoid or something

"dude, i checked twice, it's locked. relax, man."

he'll try to distract you, by playing games and watching stuff, and just generally kinda trying to be funny to take your mind off of things

if you're having a panic/anxiety attack, he kinda panics too at first, before quickly pulling you away and asking what's wrong. he is sweating very hard

if you're unresponsive, he tries to stay calm but is honestly considering calling an ambulance. like he thinks you're having a stroke

"shit, a panic attack? uh, okay, errr.... take deep breaths, okay? in.. and out. in.. and out. okay, that's good.."

he looks up grounding techniques on his phone and relays them to you until you calm down and catch your breath. he like sends you images off of google of the 5 senses technique randomly and says he figured you'd need it someday

he tries to keep your anxiety in mind, and might slip up sometimes, but for the most part he tries to be careful with his words and actions as to not worry you. he shows his care in subtle ways!!

kyle broflovski

he tries to kinda. logic it out a bit. like if you're feeling insecure he tells you how unrealistic it is for someone to think about one random passerby's appearance forever

he does feel bad though. he doesn't completely understand, but whenever he's feeling insecure he tends to get really anxious about people at school

he usually gets anxious whenever he's doing something wrong or sneaking out. like he's actually sweating and shitting his pants thinking about what his mom will do to him if she finds out

he'll encourage you to order food for yourself, to get yourself out there more, and if you succeed he'll pat your shoulder and smile a lil

if you don't want to, he might dramatically sigh but he'll do it anyways. cuz he knows how hard it is

i do think he'd get a little anxious about asking workers for help and stuff, but he'll be the bigger person... he supposes... smh my head...

when you have an panic attack for the first time, he's like really confused and gets super concerned that you're having a heart attack, and pulls his phone out to dial your parents or 911

"i'm here for you dude! listen- hey, listen to me. it's okay. can- can you-"

he tries to talk to you to de-escalate it, but he gives up and has his hand on your back, while looking up what the fuck to do

'friend havign panjc atgack what to do'

if you're okay with it, he probably talks to your parents about it. he doesn't really trust himself to be able to always calm you down, so he encourages getting outside/professional help

he does try though, and he'll always be there for you in different ways!! like when you need help with something or just need company to distract you, he's at ur door with his xbox 360

eric cartman

you can tell that eric gets a little uncomfortable if you're freaking out or feeling anxious. whether it's because he actually feels bad or just doesn't know how to handle your emotions, you'll never know

but either way, he'll probably just like. sit next to you like "dude, what's up with you?" or in other cases he'll sneakily slip out of the room unseen

he does try to be kinda logical about it, but that's solely because he physically can't speak words of comfort.

"i mean, dude, be seriously. nobody cares about you that much to notice." you speak such kind words eric!!

he doesn't really like it when things get serious, so he'll generally try to transition the situation into something more casual. like he'll try to ease your (his) mood by getting snacks and playing games together, or even begging his mom to take you both to KFC

if you have a panic attack, all of his alarms are blaring and his brain is screaming flight!!!!! flight!!!! run the fuck away!!!!

and he probably tries to, but when you notice him and call his name he physically deflates

he awkwardly turns around and slowly strolls over. "Y/N... heeeeeeey... what's up... duuude..." you can hear the strain in his voice

if it gets to be too much, as in you won't stop hyperventilating or can't breathe, he'll probably alert an adult or take you to the nurse or something. he tells himself it's because he doesn't want to be a suspect of your death

if ur having trouble ordering food he'll gladly take ur place and make a scene to get all eyes on him. "erm excuthe me they athed for no pickleth🤓"

other than when you're voicing your anxiety, he probably treats you the same. i don't really think he'd take advantage of your anxiety unless you were like. butters or heidi or something and he was really trying to get you to do something for him or just trying to. stick himself in your mind. because he's a narcissist and he loves that!!

kenny mccormick

he doesn't relate necessarily, but he definitely understands.

he lives a lot of his life in fear of his next death, and is constantly praying it be quick and painless

kenny is more of a reserved fella, but not really shy or anxious. so if you're having trouble speaking up or ordering something he'll step up and do it gladly!!

i think he'd be pretty decent at comforting. like he'll pat his hand on your back and speak assuring, muffled words

"mm, mmph mmph mmmph! mmph mph mph mmmfmf mmf mph mph mmph!" (aww, it'll be okay. i'll walk you every step of the way, buddy!)

he tries to take your emotions into consideration more, and grabs your hand and squeezes it sometimes if you need a boost of confidence. sometimes he forgets your anxiety and says something rude and feels really bad about it

when you're having a panic attack, he's honestly really scared and expects you to start foaming at the mouth or something

he'll hesitate, but he'll pat your back and try to help you with grounding techniques. the 5-4-3-2-1 in particular is his favorite, and he'll tell you how to do it in like a rlly sweet and calming voice

he's still spooked though, and gets you a water bottle and like a washcloth. he's incredibly thankful you aren't dying or anything

kenny is very good at comforting! sometimes all it takes is a simple moment of eye contact and seeing his eyes crinkle that gives you a surge of calmness you didn't know you needed

tweek tweak

tweek is no outsider to anxiety and stress. he's literally a living beehive with all that damn vibrating

to anyone else, it would seem like tweek had a severe anxiety disorder, or even ADHD. but it turns out it's just a result of his crippling meth addiction and caffiene overdoses

he tries to think about what craigs taught him, about grounding techniques and how to handle a panic attack, and tries to apply those for you

he's shakily take your hand and wrap you in a blanket, making you hot cocoa and helping you slowly come back to your senses

"okay, okay, what are 5 things you can touch? or- no- AGH! was it 5 things you see- hear? no, ACK! i can't remember!"

most of the time if you're feeling on-edge about something, his main goal will be to just listen to you talk and validate your feelings. he doesn't really make it a point to give you advice or try to be logical, unless you directly ask for it

he's great at listening!!! he also doesn't trust his own advice enough to say it to someone else.

he really tries to think hard about what comforts him when he's anxious, and so he tries to use the tactics for you. for instance, he tries to help you get into a hobby like painting to have a bit more control over yourself

hc that tweek loves to draw with crayons so he'll make little drawings of you and him as stick figures being all happy and give them to you. as a treat

overall he is very attentive, and cares a lot. he tries his very best to be there for you, and a lot of the time that results in you two just hanging out or gaming together, so you can both get your mind off of things for a while. it makes him happy to be able to be there for someone else like craig was for him

[howlingday]

Jaune go's to a monster school au. He is a Human aloud to go because his family His ability and his abundance of Mana. He was never that how to use it the So, despite getting similar results to other students, he uses absurd amounts of manna on stuff that really should abuse that much. Weiss is a vampier, rwby werewolf, yang a dragon, penny a golem, Blake is a werecat, Ren a ghost, Nora a Valkyrie, pariah is a demigod daughter of Aries.

Jaune: Hi, I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls of the tongue. The ladies love it~.

Jaune: ...Okay, maybe they don't now, but they will! Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. See, I kind of need to vent, and this is the only way I really can.

Jaune: But what do I have to vent about? I have a great family, a lot of great friends, and a bright future ahead of me! I just... have to survive until I reach it.

Jaune: ...Let me start over. My name is Jaune Arc, the only son born to the Arc family, who are one of the few families on Remnant with access to mana, or magic. I'm not very good at it, but I'm good enough to not be allowed to go to normal, regular people school.

Jaune: So that's why I'm attending Beacon's Light Academy of Magic, which was explained to me at one of the four "Great Mage" academies in Remnant, along with Atlas's Might, Haven's Garden, and Vacuo's End. It's not so bad so far, since I'm learning a lot at Beacon with my best friend, Ruby Rose.

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

Jaune: What's for lunch, Ruby?

Ruby: (Sniffs) Mm... Beef...

Jaune: What else?

Ruby: Uh... I don't know. Why? The only thing you need to eat is beef, pork, and chicken, right?

Jaune: Uh...

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

Jaune: See, Ruby is a werewolf. Yeah. You heard me. Half-human, half-wolf. I don't really know what the story is, since I don't really pry into her business, but Ruby basically has what's called "primal mana," which is magic based on tapping into your most base instincts and emotions, like fear, anger, and hunger. She's usually cool, except on the days that have full moons later that night, then she gets super irritable. She can still go to day classes, but she has to go to the safety bunker before... Well, based on the claw marks I see getting fixed the next morning, it's something super bad. Like, so bad, Weiss can't go to her night classes.

Jaune: Oh, speaking of Weiss, she's also my friend, and I kinda have crush on her. ...Okay, she's not really my friend yet. More of a friend of a friend. But I'm getting there, I think. But it might be best for me to keep my distance from her because the reason I can only see her so few times is because...

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

Jaune: Oh, uh, h-hey, Weiss!

Weiss: For the love of... Good morning, Jaune.

Jaune: So, uh, how... How were your classes?

Weiss: Fine, Jaune.

Jaune: Cool, cool... So, uh... Do you... wanna get some... blood?

Weiss: (Puts her book down)

Weiss: (Slowly turns to look at him, Bewildered)

Jaune: ...Is that a no?

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

Jaune: Look, if someone as flat and uninteresting as romance novel teens can get vampires, why shouldn't I try my luck? You know, besides the fact that I'm Type-O and probably a better meal than a friend to her. Nevertheless, I will keep trying... until she tells me she wants nothing to do with me. Which she hasn't. Yet. But she won't! Maybe.

Jaune: Anyway, being a vampire is kind of a double-edged lottery sword. It's part of something called "genesis mana," or "Blood Magic". Only people of a certain bloodline can access this, but it also curses your family to become some kind of monster, like a vampire, a wendigo, or even a werewolf. And that's why the Schnee family is so picky about who hangs out with who. My dad used to tell me that some families turn away suitors because "certain blood dulls the mana". He also tells me it's stupid, but also stupid to try my luck. Thankfully, he's not here to judge me, and I have friends who're willing to support me, like Ruby and...

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

Penny: Sal-u-tations~!

Jaune: Oh, hey, Penny. What's going on?

Penny: I have heard about your recent failures with friend Weiss and have been instructed by friend Ruby to cheer you up!

Ruby: W-What?! N-No, I didn't!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: (Writes on a napkin) Ruby, I have a command written on this napkin. The command is, "Show me every command Ruby gave." You either tell me the truth, or I ask Penny to eat this.

Ruby: She can say no, though, so there!

Jaune: Penny, would you like to eat this napkin with a command written on it?

Penny: Yes, I would!

Ruby: NOOOOOOO!

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

Jaune: She's also a really great lie detector. I mean, except for when telling her own lies. That's just how golems are, I guess. Penny is kind of a... experiment Atlas is testing out at Beacon. She's going to be attending here as a way to test if golems are sentient and capable of safely interacting with other people. Why a school full of young adults would be considered safe, I have no idea, but I'm glad to have a friend like Penny around. And as far as I can tell, whether you were born or crafted together with "creati mana," you're still human to me!

Jaune: Uh, I mean people! You're still people to me! Hah... Sorry... Last time I said "human," I got on the bad side of...

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

Blake: You were late to class.

Jaune: Sorry, sorry!

Blake: Being sorry doesn't excuse you showing up late.

Jaune: Right, sorry. I was up late last night, reading a really good issue of X-Ray and Vav.

Blake: ...You stayed up late. For a comic book.

Jaune: A really good one! You like reading, don't you?

Blake: ...

Blake: (Digs claws into the table)

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

Jaune: Yeah, Ruby isn't the only one who can access "primal mana". In fact, it's a lot more common for faunus to access it than humans, for obvious reasons. But unlike Ruby, Blake seems irritated all the time when it comes to hanging out with me. Honestly, she feels more like a friend of a friend than Weiss does with me. Almost every word that I say seems to piss her off, and I don't know why.

Jaune: Hah... Guess I'm just unlucky with girls as friends, since I get along really well with...

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

Jaune: Yo, Ren!

Ren: Good morning, Jaune.

Jaune: Any luck last night?

Ren: Not yet. But I did rearrange the recipe in the cafeteria for a healthier meal this afternoon.

Jaune: Oh... Uh...

Ruby: WHERE'S THE BEEF?!

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

Jaune: Ren is a ghost, and he's been haunting this school for the past... I don't really know. But what I do know is how Ren got to where he is now. See, he was human, like me, and before he died in school, he cast a spell that bound his soul to the school.

Ren: Wrong.

Jaune: AGH!

Ren: I was attuned with "psyki mana" and could manifest my soul so I could find my best friend after I died. We were supposed to graduate, but when I finally came to life, she'd already left without me.

Jaune: Wait, you didn't cast a spell or anything?

Ren: In order for me to cast, I would require access to my aura, which was lost in my final moments. But my soul is still present, though it requires time and effort to manifest.

Jaune: ...

Ren: You can just say you don't know.

Jaune: I don't know. But, uh, were you able to get into the office?

Ren: No. Access to the office is protected from every mana variant known to Remnant. Nothing magical in nature, including a ghost, can enter.

Jaune: Geez, that's rough. You know who might be able to help?

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

Nora: Alright, alright, what's going on now?

Jaune: Uh, well, I was just making my way to class when suddenly-

Nora: Were you attacking this poor girl?!

Jaune: What?! No! It's the other way around!

Nora: HA! Yeah, right! Look at you! You're twice her size and SHE attacked you?

Ruby: You stole my comic book!

Jaune: I did not!

Nora: Oh, really? Hand it over, kid.

Jaune: But-

Nora: HAND. IT. OVER.

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

Jaune: ...On second thought, nevermind. Valkyries aren't really that helpful, are they?

Ren: It depends on what the situation is. If it's in response to a violent crime, they are merciless and will do whatever it takes to protect the innocent in the magic realm.

Jaune: But if it's a petty crime?

Ren: They... can be a bit biased in who they assist. Unless their opponent is a hostile monster with a weapon, they're not good with delegation and diplomacy. But they do care.

Jaune: Well, you could always ask one, right?

Ren: Unfortunately, no. Valkyries are protected by a specialized armor that prevents the effects of mana. A ghost like me can't even be seen by them, let alone get near one.

Jaune: Dang... Well, best of luck to you.

Ren: Thank you. Also, before I leave, I was asked to find you.

Jaune: Really? By who?

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

Jaune: Uh, h-hi...

Pyrrha: H-Hi...

Jaune: ...

Pyrrha: ...

Jaune: So, uh-

Pyrrha: DADDY, NO!

Jaune: Wha-?

Jaune: (Sees giant boar barreling at him)

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

Jaune: Ugh... Great... You ever heard of helicopter parents? Well, with someone like Pyrrha, her helicopter dad comes equipped with a rocket launcher and twin machine guns. And a hatred for any boy that gets close to his daughter. Kind of expected since her dad is the God of War. And when I say god, I mean ALL the gods of war to have ever existed. It's part of her "deity mana," where a very lucky few are literal descendants of the divine. And hers happens to be the embodiment of war, violence, and combat. So not only can her dad kick my ass, but SHE can kick my ass!

Jaune: I don't know how I'm going to survive this school, but hey, here's hoping I can at least make it to graduation!

Jaune: ...Er, no offense, Ren.

[bestbeest]

Service Dogs and Prong Collars

While I personally am a very hippy-dippy +R trainer, and do not use a prong on my dog, I wanted to make a post in response to the common notion that "no real service dog uses a prong collar." I've seen this sentiment several times in the last week or so and it's worth discussing, especially given how harmful 'fake-spotting' can be to service dog teams.

Let's start with some context about the prong, first. Unlike some training tools, it's not an inherently aversive tool, in that if no pressure is applied to it (i.e. the leash is not pulled at all), it doesn't pinch or poke. A certain level of force has to be applied for the prongs to pinch the dog. I am NOT saying that prongs are not typically used aversively or that they do not ever hurt the dog. What I'm saying is that the prong itself is just a magnifying tool, which magnifies small amounts of pressure from the leash by focusing them on very small specific points.

I also want to note that some professional service dog trainers do use prongs as aversive training tools, and while I am personally of the opinion that if your dog is service-dog quality, you should not NEED aversers to train it, other valid professional trainers in the field do use them to turn out well-bshaved effective service dogs. And of course, many unskilled owner-trainers rely on them to bridge the gap between their lack of training experience/skill and the extremely high behavioral standards required of service dogs (yes, you CAN very slowly train a dog not to sniff other people by reinforcing it each time it chooses not to and then fading out treats; you can also just do a quick leash pop when it leans over to sniff someone, and the dog will get the memo much more quickly and without the level of skill at timing needed). So this post is not intended to denigrate balanced trainers who use the prong as an averser, either.

That in mind, here are a few reasons that that service dog you just saw might be perfectly legitimate AND wearing a prong collar!

The dog was initially trained on a prong and now associates it with going into 'work mode.' Service dogs need some kind of cue to tell them when to be extremely professional and serious, and when they're okay to just be a regular old dog. My dog loves going up to people and saying hello, but obviously he can't be doing that kind of thing when he's on duty. Knowing that, I decided from the beginning to teach him that the signal was wearing a certain vest, and being 'naked' meant he could goof off. Other handlers use different signals, and if the dog was initially trained using a prong, that may be its de facto signal to get serious.

The handler's disability gives them hand strength issues and even a very small pull can cause them to drop the leash. In this case the prong provides noticeable pressure much earlier than a flat collar would and reminds the dog to be very gentle with their person.

The handler's disability gives them balance issues and even a very small pull can cause them to fall over. See above.

For some reason (cerebral palsy, wheelchair user, grip strength issues, etc), the handler needs a communication tool that can magnify very small movements of the leash into something the dog can notice and understand. I actually considered using a prong for this reason, so that I could just put a small amount of directional pressure on the leash to signal to my dog that we were turning one way or the other, but ended up going with a different method. Because the prong condenses the total amount of leash pressure into smaller, stronger points, instead of distributing it broadly the way a flat collar does, much smaller or subtler movements of the leash or the handler's hand can communicate a cue to the dog!

This is just one example of why it's so important not to assume that a service dog team is fake because they don't look the way we normally expect service dogs to look. There's an incredibly wide range of disabilities out there that affect people in a myriad of ways, and even more ways they navigate and manage those disabilities. Taking photos of people and posting them online, talking about them behind their back, or even harassing them about their legitimacy in person can be incredibly harmful and can lead to disabled people not getting the support and resources they need. Think about that the next time you see a service dog that doesn't meet your expectations!

[chippedshake]

Okay but biromantic ace Soda

CW: coercion into sex, manipulation, internalised acephobia, regular acephobia (how did this get so dark), not a cw but historical inaccuracy, probably, I'm aware, just let me be happy

Sandy started cheating on him bc he wouldn’t have sex with her after they'd been dating a long time

He would always change the topic or avoid it whenever he could, keeping Steve and Evie around on most of their dates or going out in public

He wanted to want it, and pretended he did because that's what everyone did and he just wanted to be normal, why couldn’t he feel that way?

Then Sandy pulled the whole "don’t you love me" guilt-trip spiel

And man's a people pleaser in the sixties, when being asexual was even less heard of than now, so he caved

And he hated it and told her because he thought that communication was important and stuff

And right after, she told him she was cheating, and started crying and telling him she felt like he didn’t love her or whatever, making it seem like it was his fault

So he stayed even though she was cheating (she said she'd stop), and they started spending a lot more time together and even though she claimed she understood, she still pressured him into doing stuff he wasn’t comfortable with

But he would do it anyway because you’re supposed to sacrifice stuff for people you love, right?

Fuck, I hate Sandy

Well, anyway, canon happens, she leaves, he's absolutely WRECKED

And, of course, he blames himself because if he wasn’t broken, if he could make himself like her like that, she would have stayed

And then stevepop happens because I am stevepop trash

(A fair amount of time later) (Evie and Steve are still friends but they're both gay as fuck) (I love Evie)

Now I want to think about how they get together but that's for another day

So one day Stuff starts Happening™ and Soda tries to go along because if he could've gone along with Sandy then maybe she would've known how much he loved her

But Steve, being a Decent Human Being, notices something is up and asks what's going on

And Steve is Soda's Person. Like the person he always goes to to sort his stuff out and tells him everything and never has any filter because he knows he'll never judge him

So he tells him. About Sandy and about how he feels about sex in general and Steve just goes "okay" and says that they just won't do anything Soda doesn't want to, in his clunky, awkward "how do you human" way that is totally not me projecting on him at all

And they lived happily ever after because I said so and cannot write angst for the life of me

[bu-blegh-ost]

EP. 114 spoilers

Okay, guys, I have an insane theory. An absolutely bonkers unhinged one and I'm absolutely sure it's getting debunked by the info we'll get from ep. 115 fucking immediately, but let me have this, entertain the madness I'm about to spew from my lips.

"Praise the Solar Mother" means that Faye Ferin is not only conscious and aware of the prophecy, she BELIEVES it. The question is, which version of it, right? Well, she was warned abt Black Sea beforehand and this allowed her to get the upper hand in expanding Navy's influence, but not only that, she says "the day it spreads is coming and we'll be ready" And which prophecy speaks of it? "the seal remains locked by a key of divinity, its release, in time, an inevitability"

The real one.

She fucking knows that the Black Sea is about to spread soon and wants to either use it in some way or be the one to control the world after the calamity. And here comes my absolutely deranged idea.

"The Machine is stable. My son is stable"

What if the machine is an artificial Leviathan and the son is Jayson Ferin. Picture this madness. See into my crazy gay-ass mind.

What if Faye Ferin wants to control the world by making Jayson Ferin into a new Chosen one. She is constructing an artificial Leviathan, but why? To somehow connect Jayson to it and make him "a Sea god's last egg". We SAW the Leviathan bones, the Navy is strong enough to kill real Leviathans, they don't need them as weapons, they have things stronger than them! So what if they need one to literally trick fate? Jayson is literally raised like Gillion. Only under his mother's influence, controlled by her agenda, her vision of justice. She makes him consider Drey and Jay as traitors, feeds his hatered, feeds him her own perception of reality to use him for her gains. His almost ethereal sun-angel form. Where does his power come from? Was he modified? I fully believe he is not replaced by Black ops. She doesn't need to do that. She had full control over his way of thinking ever since he was born simply bc she is his mother. She enjoys that control. She is confident that Jayson won't break from her grasp.

And now see this. Jayson just so happens to come for a visit to the Undersea, not so long ago. Could the Elders be replaced as Black ops at this point? They very much could. Why would the real Elders banish Gillion if they believed he was the Chosen One? Why not imprison him, keep him in their own control? Well, cause they were Navy clones, possibly. And Navy wanted Gill out of the picture.

The important meeting in the Undersea arranged by Elders (impostors?) a while back. Suspiciously high amount of Triton torture victims in the stronghold. "You abandoned us". What if they are taking over Undersea from the inside? What if fake Elders spread propaganda, saying that Gill was not in fact banished but that he abandoned his people willingly? So maybe they are willing to appoint a new Chosen, Jayson?

Why would Edyn want to help them with all that? "I just want you to be able to come back home again"

If Jayson is a new Chosen, then Gillion doesn't have to be. If Gillion becomes a regular person Edyn can take him home, they can live a normal life and if the world has to burn because of it, so be it. Gillion will be free. That's all Edyn cares abt.

Let me know if I fully lost my mind please.

[not-poignant]

Do you have any advice on how to write more words on a regular basis? I find it difficult to write regularly but am fed up of only being able to produce sporadically in small amounts. Whenever I sit down to write it feels like I'm feeding gravel into a blender (if that even makes sense). I've tried getting advice from others and am told to just "stop trying to write then". But I can't because I want to write. Writing is all I ever think about. It feels like oxygen to me and when I'm not doing it (or thinking about doing it) I feel like I'm dying inside. But damn, I just wish it wasn't so difficult.

I really want to finish my stories and I know I could if I just wrote regularly but I don't know why that's so hard for me to do.

Hi anon!

I might have some thoughts on this because I certainly never used to write as much as I do now!

Firstly, I'll get this one out of the way now, if you have money to spend, join 4thewords - ignore this if you don't have it. But this gamifies writing in a genuinely fun way. Each monster you kill gives you loot, and fulfills quests that give you more loot, that opens more worlds and more options that give you clothing / house furniture and more. This was - given how much more productive it made me - a game changer re: writing more.

If you don't have money to spend, let's ignore that and go to other methods.

If you want to write more, the answer isn't to stop writing, it's to write more. The best time to hear 'it's time to stop writing' is if you're burnt out, or you hate everything about it. It sounds like you don't hate everything about it, you just wish it was a bit easier.

Decide what you want regularly to mean. I don't have a daily writing habit - I don't write every day! I'm too sick to, so i have a monthly minimum wordcount instead of a daily minimum wordcount and try and hit it by about week 2/3. Regularly for you might be once a day. Once every two days. Or it might be 'I have to write this many words a month.'

Find a way to track the words you're writing. The only way you can accurately see how much you're writing is by tracking those word-counts! Because you will have days where you feel like you wrote nothing and actually wrote a fair bit, and days where you feel like you wrote a fair bit and sadly wrote...hardly anything, lol. But it's also the best way to see yourself achieve more as you increase your wordcount.

Let's also talk about flow. Sometimes you don't get to feel 'flow' - that feeling of the words coming out easily onto the page, and you have to kind of struggle for every sentence. Are you okay with writing more knowing that this is actually normal for many writers, and the gravel blender feeling might not go away? It will over time get easier to write more words, but it might mean more of that gravel blender feeling. Flow is not predictable, and is often story and scene dependent. Chances are you will have more times feeling writing flow, I just want you to be honest with yourself in case it doesn't happen the way you wish.

From there, it's a combination of developing the discipline (which is like exercising a muscle - start small and grade upwards, don't aim too high at first, consistency is better than bursts), and finding the tricks that help you.

Look at how many words you think you could write a week. Let's lowball and say about 100 words a week. When you assess this for yourself, always undershoot, don't round up! 100 words is like... a long paragraph worth of words.

The following week, depending on if you want a daily / once every two days etc. habit, you'd aim to write 150 words that week. A paragraph and a half.

The week after you'd aim for 200 words.

You might find in week 2 it was easy to write 1000 words, great! But the week after you're still only aiming for 200 words. Don't base scaling up on the bursts / writing sprints - they'll lie to you. If you want consistent discipline, base your increases on the low days. If you reach a week where 200 words feels impossible, aim for 200 words the following week, if it's still impossible, go back to 150.

Now for you it might be... 500 words in week one, 600 in week two, 700 in week 3 etc. It might not seem like much, but you'd be surprised how quickly you start scaling through those numbers with practice.

Increasing writing output is a numbers game. And it's a patience game. And it's a 'being forgiving and gentle with yourself while also being a little bit stern with yourself' game.

Here's the thing no one tells you (except for NaNoWriMo every single year) re: increasing your wordcount.

Those words don't have to be good. They don't have to be good in fact it's better if they're not.

You're just getting used to the feeling of writing more. Not writing more good words, that will come naturally with time. You're getting used to sitting in front of a document for longer, thinking of more sentences you don't necessarily love (it's better if you don't! Write the bad ones!) And this is what I mean by it's a numbers game. Getting better at writing happens the more you do it anyway, so you can just focus on 40 bad sentences.

The trick to letting yourself write badly? That one is just...gritting your teeth and screaming through them while you go 'AHHHHH' in your head and let those suckers loose. Or whatever version of this that you have.

Because here's the thing, it's actually pretty easy to write 1000 words of inconsequential terrible story that no one's going to read. I mean 'pretty easy' - it's easier than writing the stories and characters you love the most and are so invested in, it's hard to write the sentences because you want to do justice to it all. That's fucking stressful, friend, and increasing writing output is just better if you're not always a) doing it on those stories or b) invested in writing those stories well in those early draft/s.

But once you're used to writing more words of stuff you don't love, it becomes easier to write less words of stuff you do, and chances are that will still be more than you're writing now. <3 Some of my stories are really easy to write, and some are way way harder. A chapter of The Ice Plague took as much time as three chapters of Underline the Black. So story is important here too. But also the point is basically that... you don't have to scale up your writing output with the stories you're most invested in, but need to be at a certain standard of writing. You can scale it up any time, with any kind of story - anyone can do this. Increasing your wordcount is a matter of like... easy methods that are less easy to implement irl because of the psychology around letting yourself write badly, and letting yourself validate the time / put the time aside to do that.

And here's the other thing - find a ritual that helps you. Whether it's brewing some tea before writing. Setting up a little space. Putting on some music or a noise generator specifically for writing. Listening to Lo-Fi Girl or Synthwave Boy. Whether it's writing a few words on paper first, or changing the font. Eventually you will have a Pavlovian response to the ritual, and every little bit helps.

As for the psychology, this is why you lowball. You make it as easy as possible. 'God writing 1000 words seems really hard oh but I only have to write a sentence today, cool, I can do that.'

The thing about lowballing is that on the good days, you will write way, way more than your goal. Which means a) you're done for the week if that happens if you want to be done and b) when you're back to feeling exhausted and like GGHGHGHGHHHHH about writing, you're still back at that initial lowball wordcount.

On my worst days, I lowball to like, 5 words, 10 words, and just write 5 / 10 / 15 etc. down on a piece of paper and cross them off. 30 words can be a sentence. 10 words can be a sentence. It feels nice to cross off numbers on a sheet of paper and see the increasing words. I can almost always get to 500 words with that method, and I think you could definitely get to 100.

Anyway the TL;DR

Consistency is way more important than quality

Don't be surprised if you don't find 'flow'

ALWAYS lowball when you're developing an increase in words

Figure out what 'regular' means to you (daily / weekly / etc.)

Make a ritual

Focus less on the stories you love most when developing this habit

If you have a bad week, just go back to the previous wordcount goal. And keep doing that, this won't be a linear process!!!

...It didn't need to be this long I'm so sorry anon idk why I'm like this.

I wish you all the best! I 100% disagree with the folks telling you 'just stop writing then.' I'm like nope, embrace the gravel blender, eventually you'll end up with smooth sand in an hourglass, I promise. <3 You just might have to add more gravel sometimes. ;)

[destinyc1020]

Tom's fans are different, but they speak the facts. It's absolutely normal to want a successful project for your favorite actor because his work and talent should be recognized. It's also normal when you want to see activity on Tom's part. Sometimes some of Tom's fans are negative, but in many ways they are honest, to me they are much better than some hypocritical TZ fans who claim to be equally staned Tom and Zendaya, but in fact they are Zendaya's fans first and foremost. By the way, your theory is very interesting and I think to some extent I can agree with it. But at the same time, it amuses me how sometimes you are too optimistic or do not notice serious problems with some things related to Tom

I mean, I don't mind if fans are honest about their faves. I've always said that I'm 100% honest here on my blog about how I feel about a variety of people and topics. 🤷🏾‍♀️

But to me, it seems as though some fans of Tom (notice I said SOME) can be a bit harsh on him, or complain about things that in the grand scheme of things, really aren't big deals in the long run. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Or, they'll make blanket negative statements that aren't even true, like, "it's normal to want a successful project for your favorite actor" (as if Tom hasn't had MULTIPLE successful projects already?? 🥴🤔), or, you"want to see activity on his part" (as if, we don't get Tom content either through himself, friends, and or family on a REGULAR basis). Look, some actors out here don't even have social media at all, or never post, or don't have their parents posting content about them. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Yet, ppl are still their fans.

I've already made peace with the fact that we're not going to get the same social media happy Tom that we got in 2017. I've made peace with that with both Tom AND Zendaya tbh. If smthg harms my fave and their mental and emotional health, I'm not going to be upset if they're not posting on social media.

I will agree with you that a lot of Tom's fans are actually fans of him by extention of Zendaya, his gf. But he can't help that. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Their stars happened to rise at the same time due to their Spiderman movie that they were in together. Many fans of Z were fans of her BEFORE she got to the level that she is today though, but it's not a bad thing imo?

But at the same time, it amuses me how sometimes you are too optimistic or do not notice serious problems with some things related to Tom

I just feel like Tom's fans are a bit hard on him, and undermine his success already in the industry all the time (his R&J PLAY sold out in like 2 hours!!!) Like, c'mon. 😏

And what "serious problems" are there related to Tom exactly? Is he on drugs? Is he wilding out? Does he look depressed? Is he looking homeless? Has he lost a ton of weight in a short amount of time? Is he acting crazy out in these streets? To me, those are "serious problems" and signs that an actor is going through smthg. All the other stuff you've mentioned aren't "serious problems" imo Anon.

Yes, we all want great things for our fave actors, and of course we wish them the best! 😃 But unless there are some serious issues going on in that actor's life, we need to know our place as FANS, and let an actor live his (or her) life! Actors usually only film about 1 or 2 films a year (if THAT), and the rest of the time, they're working bts, negotiating other future projects, promoting current projects, or simply just taking a break. When you're at Tom's level of success, you can afford to take longer breaks if needed. He's been working and going non-stop for over 7 years. If the man wants to take a break, his fans should be okay with that. Jmho 🤷🏾‍♀️