#of course i put in a lot of work studying what little we get to see of her and building on that to the best of my ability but..

[sweetdispatch]

not sure if your requests are still open but if they are, here’s mine! water 9, air 5, earth 5, fire 3? strictly platonic/familial please! i’ve been having a hard time recently and my real older brother gives me no comfort but i feel like quinn would actually care!!

Tray of cookies - Q. Hughes

v' elements pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader summary: You've been struggling for the whole week with no one to talk with, that's why you went to see Quinn warning: swear words note: i'm so sorry to hear it love, hope this will bring you a little bit support and if you would ever need someone to talk with - i'm here for you!

The past week has been rough. Nothing was going the way you wanted and you felt crushed by everything. At school, at work, in your family nothing was working. You called your siblings to talk with them, to get their support but they ignored the phone calls. They felt that you’re overreacting again and they have too much on their plates to deal with you. 

That’s why you decided to visit Quinn. He was your neighbour but also a friend. At first you hesitated to go and see him. You didn’t want to be a burden for him too but now, when your siblings weren’t picking up, you felt forced to do it. You needed someone to talk with. You checked the hour and saw that it was past 6pm, which meant that Quinn’s definitely at home. 

Before you went to see him, you decided to bake a tray of cookies. You didn’t want to come and throw your problems at him with empty hands. You baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies and packed them into a container. An hour later, you went three floors up and knocked on the door, patiently waiting for him to open. 

“Hi, I didn’t expect you today” Quinn said with a smile and opened the door wider. 

“I baked cookies for you, can I come in?” You asked him. 

“Of course. Go on the couch and I’ll make us a cup of tea. Green lemon with one tablespoon of sugar like always?” Quinn asked you. 

“Yes, thank you” You sat on the couch trying to put all your thoughts in order but this brought you to tears.

“I hear your crying. Tell me what’s wrong” Quinn sat next to you and put your cup of tea on the coffee table. 

“I failed an exam and it wasn't even my fault. The professor saw that another girl was cheating on my paper and he decided to fail both of us. I was studying my ass for this exam and it was taken away from me” First tears spilled from your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry to hear it. Was it the Roman law exam you’ve been talking about?” Quinn asked you and you nodded. “You put all your heart and hard work into it. He shouldn't fail you because of someone. It was out of your control. Did you talk to him?” 

“I did but he said that only guilty people feel the need to explain themselves. I can write it again next week but I’m scared. I feel like I forgot everything” You covered your face with your hands. Quinn caressed your back to give you a little support. 

“You’ll do great. You were prepared for this term so you’ll be even better on the second one” Quinn tried to make you feel better. 

“Maybe but because I was skipping a lot of work hours to study, I don’t have time to read my notes again. I’m short with money too because I haven’t worked as many hours as I would like and I’m barely paying the rent” You told him with a much more calmer voice. 

“I know this might sound dumb but if you need money, I can…” Before Quinn could finish, you stopped him. 

“Absolutely no, I got this” You told him and Quinn nodded. “On top of that, my parents are fighting again and me and my siblings are getting targeted as the reason for their fights which is ridiculous because we don’t live with them anymore. I called my siblings to talk with them but they haven’t picked up the phone” You laughed at how ridiculous this sounds. 

“That’s a bitch move from them. You should be supporting each other in these times and they shouldn’t turn their back on you” Quinn said and pulled you into a hug. “I’m so sorry that everything is falling apart in your life. Is there anything I can do?” Quinn asked you. 

“I don’t think so. All I wanted was to be heard. Thank you for talking with you. I know you have a lot of your problems so I appreciate that you wanted to listen to me” You said with a small smile and took a sip of your tea. 

“We’re friends. I’m always here for you. Thanks for trusting me to tell the story” Quinn told you. “And thank you for the cookies, so good” You laughed at the last sentence. 

For the rest of the night, you and Quinn had been talking about each other's issues trying to solve them together.

[possamble]

yes!!! getting good grade in farcille!!!

[seaofreverie]

So busy with Sparkstember that I almost forgot that I go back to school on tuesday

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

when they notice you haven't been eating enough (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

-> tw: obviously references to ED behaviours and not eating, reader discretion is advised if this is a trigger for you!

max verstappen

You thought you were being careful. Smiling while he cooked. Saying you were full from lunch and moving the food around your plate just enough to make it seem like you’d eaten more than you had. You knew it was wrong, you should say something, but couldn't find the words.

You thought you were getting away with it.

Then one night, after a particularly long, stressful day, while the two of are getting ready for bed, Max quietly hands you one of his redbull hoodies. It feels like a peace offering. He's silent for a moment, like he too is struggling to the the right words.

“You’ve lost weight.”

You freeze with your arms halfway in the sleeves, eyes wide and aimed at the ground. “What?”

His tone is neutral, forcibly so, but his eyes aren’t. They’re serious. Studying your reaction.

“I can feel it when I hug you,” he says, blunt and truthful. “You’re smaller. You're tired all the time. You barely touched dinner. Not the for the first time, either”

You try to deflect. “I’m fine. It’s just stress...work’s been a lot—”

“I’m not judging,” he interrupts softly, hands on his hips. “But don’t lie to me. Not about this, schatje.”

You stare at the floor, guilt swirling and pooling in your stomach. His hands find your waist, thumbs brushing over your hips as if to emphasize what he already noticed. He leans in just enough that his forehead touches yours, leaning against eachother softly.

“I know you think it’s not a big deal. But it is to me,” he murmurs. “I don’t care if it’s small meals, snacks, whatever... but you need somehting. I need to know you’re okay.”

Then, after a long pause, “Please don’t shut me out. Your hurting the woman I care about, I can't let you do that.”

He doesn’t push after that. Just holds you tighter that night. Makes breakfast the next morning and doesn’t say a word when you take the plate. Just smiles a little when you pick up the fork.

lando norris

You’re lying on your stomach across your bed, scrolling through your phone aimlessly, when Lando flops down beside you with a sigh. You laugh at his sudden, unexpected appearance, but it dies out when he you don't hear him join in.

“I’m gonna say something, and you’re not allowed to get weird about it.”

You glance over, up your phone down, suspicious, but trying to lighten the tone. The sudden seriousness leaves you uncomfortable. "Hm, ominous."

He gives you a look, one that says he's not joking for once.

“You haven’t really eaten today. Or much yesterday. And I don’t think that’s nothing.”

You open your mouth to deflect, but Lando cuts in, gentler now.

“I’m not mad. I just… I want you to know that I notice these things. I don't want you to hide this stuff. I'm a... a bit hurt that you thought you had to.”

"I didn't mean to it's just. It's hard to talk about this stuff," you try to explain.

"I know that. Of course, I know that. But we spend hours talking about how I'm going, where my head is at, and that's not a one way street, love."

He nudges your shoulder lightly when you you can't find the words to say. “Let me take care of you, yeah? We’ll order something...anything you want! You don’t even have to leave the bed.”

And when you nod, he grins and kisses your cheek like it’s no big deal...like loving you includes this, too.

oscar piastri

Oscar notices something's off before you say even say anything.

You're out running errands together and get dizzy out of nowhere in the middle of the store. You hand grips his as you try and blink away the blurry spots. He's quick to put a hand on your back to help you stay up right, and even quicker to ask whats wrong.

You try to brush it off , I probably just need water or something, but he doesn’t buy it. The crease between his eyebrows deepens.

“You’ve been lightheaded more than once this week.”

You blink at him, surprised, heart suddenly beating faster than before. “No, I haven't.”

But he nods like you've said the opposite. Eyes searching yours for... something.

“I’ve also noticed you keep skipping breakfast a lot. And lunch, probably, if I'm not home with you. And you’re ‘just tired’ every night.”

Oscar isn’t dramatic about it. He just says it plainly, as truth, fact. But that just makes it harder to brush off.

“I’m worried,” he admits, voice quieter, hand holding yours tightly. “You don’t have to explain it all right now. But I need to know you’re okay... I need to know if you're not.”

You murmur that you're not sure what's going on, and it's the truth. Oscar doesn’t press.

“Let’s get head home. Have something easy. And if you don’t want to talk, we can just sit.”

"I'm sorry," you whisper to him, unsure of what to say.

"Please don't apologise. I love you. I want you to be well."

carlos sainz

You’re on your apartment balcony together, lounging around after a long morning sleep in. Carlos offers to make you breakfast, but you tell him not to bother. You’re not hungry.

He pauses mid-step, one foot inside, one still on the balcony. Looks at you, slightly offended on your behalf.

“No desayuno? Why not?”

You shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “I don’t know. I just… don’t feel like eating, I guess.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches you. But the crease between his brows deepens, and then he's moving toward you, slowly, like he’s approaching something fragile. Maybe he is.

“You’ve skipped too many meals this week, mi vida. I’m not blind.”

His voice is quiet but firm, that kind of gentle stubbornness you’ve learned not to argue with. The kind that comes from a place of love, not discipline. You look down, suddenly finding it too hard to look Carlos in the eyes, but he doesn’t let the moment slip by so easily.

He finally steps right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist lightly, and resting his chin on your shoulder. His voice is softer now, words whispered right into your ear like a sweet secret for just the two of you.

“I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to take care of yourself.”

His fingers rub little circles into your sides, grounding and steady.

And before you can come up with a deflection, he’s pulling away just enough to kiss the side of your temple and mutter, “I’ll make something light. You don’t have to finish it. Just try.”

It’s not about food. Not really. It’s about how he wants you well. Wants you cared for. It's about showing you you are loved, and deserve to be taken care of.

alex albon

You're facetiming while he’s away, talking about qualifying, how the pets are doing, your plans for tomorrow, what you did earlier that day, when you offhandedly say, “I had a granola bar today, that counts, right?”

He laughs at first, caught up in your cute rambling. Then stops suddenly, all the humour draining from his face in a milisecond.

“Wait, that was all you had? Actually?”

You realize too late how that sounds. You can't take the words back now, and you can't find it in you to play it off as a complete joke. Part of you wants him to know.

Alex's expression shifts immediately. “Babe… You need to eat. No excuses.”

He leans in closer to the screen, voice suddenly quieter.

“Are you alright? Seriously.”

You start to downplay it, words coming out quickly to cover yourself, you weren't that hungry today, you were busy, you would eat later to make up for it, but he shakes his head gently at each excuse.

“Hey, hey. You don’t need to explain if you’re not ready. I’ve been there, I get it. But I wish you’d told me. I would’ve sent you like… twenty reminders. Or ubereats meals.”

Despite the worry, he smiles at you, soft and sweet, with the kind of look he always has before he leans in to kiss you.

“Okay. We’re ordering food together, right now. Virtual dinner date? I'll get room servivce, order something to the house for you. Yeah?”

You laugh, tear up a little, and agree. He smiles bright at your agreeance, beaming with pride.

charles leclerc

You're halfway through slicing vegetables for dinner when you say it. You'd been tossing up the right words to say all day. Deflecting is an art.

“I’m not really hungry tonight, but you go ahead.”

Charles doesn’t respond right away. Just finishes stirring the pan in front of him, sets the spoon down carefully, and, without another word, switches the stove completely off.

You glance up, confused and stunned. “What are you doing? That's not done yet.”

He simply shrugs. “If you’re not eating, then we’re not cooking.”

There’s no edge in his tone. No accusation. Just quiet finality, as if he had anticipated you not wanting to eat.

You blink, confused. “Charles, that’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t skip dinner just because—”

“Because you are?” he says gently, stepping away from the stove and closer to you. “No, I shouldn’t. But I’m not going to sit here and act like I haven’t noticed what you're doing”

He closes the space between you, wiping his hands on a dish towel before setting it aside.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, chéri,” he says quietly, searching your expression for the truth of the situation, but coming up empty. “I just want you to take care of yourself. And if I can help, even just a little, I will. If this is what it takes for you to know it is unhealthy, then I will do it.”

Charles reaches out and pulls you gently into his embrace. One hand on your back, the other smoothing your hair behind your ear. When he speaks again, his voice is soft against your skin. “Even if it’s just toast and juice. Even if it’s small. I’ll eat with you.”

You nod slowly, not because you’re convinced you can finish a whole meal, but because the idea of sitting across from him, even with something simple, suddenly feels like something you can do. Something you want to try. For him.

So he kisses your temple, rubs his hand down your back once again, and then says, “I’ll make tea. You pick the bread. Oui?”

lewis hamilton

You’re pacing around, trying to get stuff done, arms filled with knick-knacks you should have put away ages ago, when Lewis gently intercepts you. Hands on your upper arms, holding you still.

“You’ve been running nonstop all day, love. Did you eat yet?”

You wave him off. “I haven’t had time.”

That makes him stop cold. He exhales, long and hard, then walks over and takes your hands in his.

“That’s not okay.”

You go to respond, but Lewis lifts a hand. Gently, calmly stopping you.

“I’m not upset. But I also… don’t think this is the first time you’ve let yourself forget about food. And it’s scaring me a bit.”

“It’s not like that… I promise,” you reply in a hushed tone.

His thumb traces small circles over your knuckles, constant and soft.

“Ok, and I trust you to know if it was like that you could tell me. But I’ve seen what burnout looks like. What forgetting to take care of yourself does. I won’t stand by and watch it happen to you too. I love you too much to watch you crash and burn.”

"Lewis—"

He takes all the clothes and cups from your arms and places them on the table, leaving your hands empty and your heart beating fast.

He leans in and kisses your forehead, hushing you. “Let’s start small. Something warm. Something easy. Please? Gotta make sure my girl is taken care of.”

He doesn’t ask for more. Just reminds you, with every soft word and touch, that you’re worth taking care of, even on the days when you forget how.

george russell

You're lying in bed together when George brings it up for the first time.

"Love, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Please?"

When you turn to look at him, his face is dead serious, his undereye bags heavy and dark like something’s been worried about something for a while.

"You haven’t been eating enough." He says it quietly, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone like he’s afraid he’s already said too much.

"That’s not a question," you reply, a little too fast. A little too defensive.

George doesn’t take the bait. He just watches you for a second, gaze steady but soft. There’s no judgment in it, only worry.

“I know,” he says. “But I’ve been holding it in, waiting for you to come to me, waiting for the right time, and... I guess there isn’t one, is there?”

You sigh, low and long from the weight of everything you've been feeling. He shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I’m not angry. I don't want you to think that. I just...noticed recently. And I didn’t want to corner you, or make you feel.. attacked, but I love you, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t see what’s happening.”

You rest your forehead against his chest, and his hand runs gently up and down your back.

“You don’t have to explain anything right now,” he murmurs. “Just let me help. We can start slow. A good breakfast tomorrow. I’ll make tea. We can talk about it, if you'd like. One thing at a time. Yeah?”

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, none of that. This isn't something you need to apologise for. I got you. We got this."

You nod against him, curling tighter into his soft hold. George presses a soft kiss to the top of your head like a promise. One that says: you’re not doing this alone.

lowkey inspired by both the anon request and the quote "i love you, i want us both to eat well" <3

[goofygubegubler]

𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅

Spencer throws out a comment so uncharacteristically bold that even Morgan is speechless.

wc: 768 | F!Reader (established relationship) | cw: VERY suggestive

A/N: I’m honestly blown away by all the love on my first fic—thank you so much! I’ve got more in the works, including blurbs and maybe even a few one-shots. My asks are open, so feel free to send requests or just chat! Hope you enjoy this one—it's short and oh so sweet <3

Your desk was a mess—files spread out, coffee half-drunk, and a notepad filled with half-legible scribbles. Across from you, Spencer was deep in his own pile of paperwork, meticulously writing everything out by hand, as usual. Despite having access to every digital tool imaginable, he still swore by pen and paper, claiming it helped him retain information better. It was kinda endearing, in a stubborn, old-man way.

You were in the middle of reviewing a case file, flipping through pages while absentmindedly tapping your pen against your desk, when you heard Morgan stroll over to Spencer’s desk.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Morgan said, dropping his coffee onto Spencer's desk with a thud. “You mean to tell me you, the guy who once used the word ‘cloacal kiss’ in casual conversation, has nothing to say about his own mating habits?”

Your fingers hovered over your mouse as you scrolled through your playlist on your monitor, hesitating between switching to something instrumental or letting the indie rock keep playing. Oh boy. Here we go.

Spencer barely looked up, flipping a page in his file. “Because, unlike you, I don’t feel the need to turn my personal life into locker room talk.”

Morgan grinned. "I’m just saying, man, if all that reading has you treating sex like a final exam, I got some study guides for you."

Spencer finally lifted his head, blinking at him like he was the dumbest person alive. “Morgan, your definition of 'expertise' is having a lot of experience. Mine is actually understanding the mechanics of what you’re talking about.”

Morgan scoffed. “That’s not even—listen, Savannah and I are solid, okay? And I’m just saying, for a guy who overexplains everything, you sure get real quiet about this topic.”

Spencer gave him a flat look, putting his pen down. "Morgan, sex isn’t complicated. It’s just applied physics with a little bit of chemistry—and if done correctly, some very impressive biology."

JJ, who had apparently been listening in, snorted. "That might be the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said—and that’s saying something."

Morgan threw up his hands. "See? This is what I’m talking about! The man could turn seduction into a science fair project."

Morgan pointed at Spencer, then at you, then back at Spencer, clearly trying to form a comeback. Before he could, Spencer sighed and said, "Morgan, what do you want me to say? Yes, I have sex. Yes, I enjoy it. No, I’m not about to give you a play-by-play."

Morgan opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, searching for something—anything—that wouldn't result in him taking yet another loss. Finally, he let out a deep sigh, grabbed his coffee, and pointed a finger at Spencer. "We're not done."

Spencer just smiled, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Morgan, I hate to break it to you, but we were done the moment you started this conversation."

You were still working, or at least making a half-hearted attempt at it, but you weren’t exactly subtle. Your grip on the pen had tightened, your page-flipping slowed, and the barely-contained smirk on your face was giving you away completely. Spencer noticed—of course, he did. His sharp eyes flicked toward you, and the way his lips curled just slightly told you he knew you were listening.

He tilted his head, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Don’t act like you didn’t hear that."

You huffed, shaking your head as you clicked play on your music.

The first few soft notes of "Juno" by Sabrina Carpenter filtered through your headphones.

But your mind was already elsewhere—lingering on the way Spencer had leaned back so casually, how he hadn’t hesitated once, how damn sure of himself he had been. You bit your lip, heat crawling up your spine. You liked the way he’d said it—like he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. Like he enjoyed it. Like he was claiming something, not just stating a fact. And that was the part that really got to you. You liked being seen, being wanted, being talked about like you were something worth studying, something worth knowing inside and out.

But you were at work. And work meant focus, control, and professionalism. You exhaled, straightening in your chair and forcing your attention back to the case file in front of you. Even as you tried to push it aside, the heat still curled in your stomach, his voice replaying in your head like a song you couldn’t shake.

And then, as if on cue, Sabrina Carpenter’s voice cut through the moment:

 "Sorry if you feel objectified."

[ms-demeanor]

Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

[i73mj]

tease me, mommy

pairings: stepmom!aeri x virgin!yn

warnings: oh shit i forgor, choking, fingering, face sitting, a lil bit of scissoring, cum eating?, LOTS of nipple play, also this counts as stepcest right lmk if there’s more, excessive use of sweetie i believe :|

a/n: woohoo your favorite writer is back! i swear this took me a while to finish because life has not been good to me😭 but i’m okay now :) btw 'i’m so bad at synopsis so no more synopsis. hope y’all enjoy!

”what?!” you stormed into aeri’s study after she called (yelled) out your name a couple of times. you had been sorting through your father’s belongings, something that should’ve been his responsibility, but of course, he was too busy. the room wasn’t very big, only half the size of your father’s office, yet aeri seemed perfectly at home behind the sleek mahogany desk, going through stacks of legal documents.

aeri had married your father two years ago, and though people whispered about her being a gold digger, you knew better. she didn’t need his money—she already had plenty of her own. what she wanted was status, influence, the kind of power that came with having your father’s last name. it wasn’t love, but an arrangement that worked for them both: your father got a beautiful, young wife to parade around at charity galas, and aeri got a seat at the table of one of the most influential business families in the country.

”i need you to sign here for your shares in the company, sweetie.” that smile again, that sweet-but-poisonous smile. ”your dad finally decided to hand them over, and i must say, i’m a little jealous of how much power you’ll have now.”

wow. she was right—it was a lot. more than you expected. aeri handed you her pen, but you took one out from your right pocket instead.

”i have my own,” she chuckled lightly as you leaned against her desk, steadying the paper to sign. ”there.” you didn’t hate her presence openly, but aeri always found ways to annoy you—like now, sitting herself on your lap the second you put your pen back on your shirt pocket.

”aeri, get off me.” you said, voice low.

”what? don't like sharing space with your stepmom? you know your dad’s leaving on a business trip right?” she teased, plucking your pen out of your pocket and slipping it down her cleavage with a smirk.

you tried not to stare.

this wasn’t the first time she pulled shit like this. ever since your 19th birthday, her teasing had only gotten worse. it didn’t help that you were only seven years apart in age. did she marry your dad for you or what? you wondered oftentimes.

”aeri... give it back...” you divert your gaze somewhere else, her nightgown slightly ajar. but she’s persistent, putting her thumb on your lips and letting her hand cup your cheek, pulling your face to the front.

”what’s wrong, sweetie? can’t take it by yourself?” her voice dropped an octave, you got up the courage to look at her. lips crimson, eyelashes curled, cheeks pink. you noticed a bead of sweat on her forehead, under her bangs.

”don’t fucking play with me aeri, i got a class in thirty minutes.” you get up, lifting aeri and putting her down on her desk before getting your head yanked to the back. ”what the fuck!?”

aeri’s grip on your hair tightens, her hands proceed to roam under your shirt as she pulls you closer. you can feel her hot breath on your nape, teasing you more than ever. she presses her boobs against your back, sending a jolt through your body.

”you’re so easy to tease, sweetheart.” she let go of her grip on your hair, moving that hand to circle your waist, and holding you still against the desk.

”you think i don’t see how badly you want me? the last time we all had dinner you were basically eye-fucking me, honey.” her hands got braver, playing with your bra strap and taking forever to unclip the hook. fuck, you don’t want to admit that you want this but your body reacts to every single of aeri’s touch.

”ooh, a sensitive girl i see...” she unhooked your bra (finally), quickly taking it off along with your shirt. her palm hovers just a few milimeters above your hardened nipples, the anticipation made you whimper.

”plea- don’t fucking do that aeri.” ”not gonna touch you until you say please.” she retreats her hand from your boobs, taking a step back and slowly made her way to the door, locking it. you stand still, staring with your mouth agape—you didn’t realize—as aeri slowly took off her night robe and put it on a coat hanger across the room. and oh my god, it’s as if aeri knew what is about to happen because she’s wearing a satin, lacy lingerie. you can see her panties as the satin part of the dress parted at the front when aeri walked to the sofa that was just beside the coat hanger, sitting with her legs crossed.

”come here.” you never let someone command you ever but somehow you obliged, wondering what would she do to you next. your legs faltered towards her, as you stand in front of her awkwardly—don’t know what to do.

aeri’s smirk grew wider before she grabs your wrist, guiding you to sit on lap. ”you must be cold, look at your nipples...” oh, it’s all hard and sensitive. you bit your lower lip as aeri fixes her glasses, then puts her middle and index finger inside your mouth. you instinctively suck it as aeri plays with your nipples. the tingling sensastion makes you whimper, hips jerking for friction.

”look at you, all cute and obedient for me.” you want to deny, but aeri's hand that started to creep up your inner thighs leaves you silent. after all, your blushing face was enough for confirmation. aeri chuckled softly, wanting to do a ’little experiment.’ she picks you up and lays you down on the coffee table by the window, you could clearly see the gardener adding some fertilizer to your mother's flower pots. while you were trying to distract yourself, aeri slowly pulled down your shorts and threw them across the room.

”relax pretty.” your breath hitched as aeri moves closer into your core and begins kissing your inner thighs while playing with your increasingly aroused nipples, slowly, her kisses turn into tiny licks. her mouth begins to tease your leaking cunt, thumbs stroking your sensitive bud gently. your legs tremble, feeling aeri’s finger on your entrance.

”may i teach you how good this could feel cutie?” she lift her face from between your thighs, lips ghosting over your heated skin as her teeth teasingly tugs at the hem of your panties. your breath hitches, too embarassed to meet her gaze, but you still nods—heart pounding with anticipation.

”hey, look at me.” aeri crawls up to meet your face—eyebrows furrowed, eyes watery from the pleasure, lips swollen from how much you bit it to hold in your moans. that’s when aeri knows, she gazed at you intently, her smile slowly widening as her awareness grew. her hand reached out, touching your face, which burned beneath her fingers.

“oh my gosh, sweetheart. you are a virgin.” you could only let out a soft whimper, her voice dropping an octave, something thrilling in the way she spoke. her thumb brushed against your flushed lips, then trailed down to your chin, holding it in place so you’d keep looking at her. “no one’s ever touched you here, huh?” she asked, though her tone sounded more like a statement than a question.

you resist answering, but she already knows. the expression on your face, the way your body trembles under her touch—are all enough for an explanation. aeri let out a small sigh, like she’s holding herself back. her hand goes down further until it touches your chest, she squeezes, fondles, and pinches your tits while still keeping her eyes on you. this time, her gaze is softer, her touch gentler. you're still trying to hold in your moans when aeri finally breaks the gaze and settles her warm mouth on your nipple.

there is no part of your tits that is missed by the sweep of the aeri tongue, the warm sensation of her mouth mixed with saliva makes you tremble violently, as you hold your body to stay lying on the now entirely messy coffee table. ”emmh... aeri...”

”yes sweet girl?” her eyes gazing full of control, you can now clearly see aeri’s face-a little sweaty, and a little tense. her makeup becomes a little messy, but her face still unexplainably pretty.

”i-it feels so good...” you manage to let out, holding onto the sides of the table. ”i know,” aeri starts tracing your neck and leaves some marks while stroking the mound in the middle of your legs, ”and it's about to get better.”

aeri shifts her position, she kneels in front of you and positioning her hands on your legs to keep them apart. she makes the first lick along your slit, long and slow to make sure you feel it. you let out a long whine as your back arches from the sensation, eyes shut, and lower lip bitten. you throws your head head back, and aeri starts to raise her speed.

your arousal drips down into aeri’s mouth and overflows until it drips onto the table, aeri hums—chuckle—the vibration from the hum makes it feel even better. she decided to stick her tongue inside your cunt when she thinks you’re unable to control your moans anymore. you’re getting more desperate, and aeri struggles to keep your hips stay still because you keep wriggling it for more friction.

”you like it?” she asks, even though she knows for sure you love it, you let out another lustrous moan as an answer. aeri smirks and gets up, the excess arousal flows down her chin. she gather some on her fingers, ”woah, you’re really... aroused. you know?” she licks it off clean shamelessly and moves closer towards you.

”come sit back up.” she grabs your jaw gently and crashes your lips together, you voluntarily open your mouth for aeri to slip her tongue inside your mouth and lets you savour your own taste. she hums in satisfaction as she let go of her grip and puts her palm against your nape, pushing you forward to deepen the kiss. the kiss gets more desperate, sloppy, and rough as aeri lets you take control of the kiss. actually, you didn't hate her that much, you were mostly jealous, but it feels like those feelings just dissipate into thin air right now, otherwise why would you let yourself be all submissive under your stepmother’s touch?

slowly, without letting go of the kiss, aeri starts to lower her hands down, one hand settling on your left breast, the other on the mound between your legs.

”you’re so wet...” she hissed in between kisses, toying with your bundle of nerves. letting go of the kiss—you unconsciously follows her mouth—she hugs you. confused and dazzled from the stimulation on your clit, you just follow her lead.

”do you ever pleasure yourself?” aeri whispers, her breathing heavily against your ear. being the nerdy loser virgin you are, you answer, ”of course, i had some experiments, but i never really-” aeri's laughter cut you off mid-sentence.

”let me rephrase the question. do you ever have sex?” you pushed aeri back and shriek.

”what? no! i will never let anyone touch me, ever!” ”yet here you are, reacting at every of my touch,” aeri lets out a giggle, ”but seriously? a freshman like you? the senior used to always went out for cute freshmens like you, y’know?” aeri teasingly asks.

”no, fuck, my class.” suddenly, you were snapped back into reality. what the fuck are you doing right now? shit, your embarassment grew when you realize that aeri’s fully clothed while you’re naked. you were about to get your shirt back, but aeri holds down your waist, pushing it back against the table.

”relax sweet girl,” aeri cooed, she grips onto your waist tighter, you’re sure that a red mark would be seen, ”we’re not done.”

”but my class-” ”oh plese, you’re late anyway. besides, pfft, you really think i would let you go so easily after tasting you?” you nod, ”... adorable.” you squeal, feeling more and more aroused as aeri guides you to the brown sofa and push your back so that you can watch her undress. her movements are slow, almost careful, aeri’s hand slowly make its way to the ribbon knot on her shoulder and with a small tug, the fabric that covered her chest drops. aeri bit her lower lip and watches your reaction, clearly amused.

”like what you’re seeing?” aeri let the clothing fell to the floor and walks up to you then positioning your thighs in between her legs, then sat, you can sense clearly when her arousal are starting to spread all over your thighs.

”feel it baby? feel my cunt on your thigh? see how much i want you too?” aeri went for your ear, licking and biting while simultaneously grazing her hard nipples on your chest.

”ah... hnggh...” you hold both of her shoulders, attempting to push her back, but she only smirks, unfazed by your weak resistance.

”hmm... needy, aren't we?” she teases, sitting back on your thigh and starting to move her hips back and forth. she guides your hand to rest on her hip, placing the other on her chest with a deliberate touch.

”come on, don't be shy, do whatever you want.” her words ignite something in you, and without hesitation, you start putting into practice the things you’ve seen in porn. you start by playing with her nipples—pinching, caressing, licking, until her pussy is begging for attention too.

”hnggh.. yn... please- here, touch me...” you carefully slide your middle finger inside her, watching her face for any sign of hesitation before adding another one. her hips starts moving again while you’re still trying to find the pace of your fingers. with every touch on her skin, aeri gets more needy and desperate until she decides she couldn’t take it anymore. your fingers aren’t enough.

she pins you down on the carpet and grabs a fistful of your hair gently while positioning her pretty cunt on your mouth, a few of her arousal drops onto your face before she lowers her body to feel your warm tongue lapping her sweet cunt.

”shit- yn, sorry i- haven’t- got fucked- this good....” she immediately moves her hips frantically. you instinctively tease her bud with your left fingers as the right hand massaging her bubble ass, ”mmh, am i doin’ this right?” your mumbles sent out a vibration that made aeri’s body tense up, ”fuck you’re gonna regret letting me taste this sweet cunt of yours aeri.” you can feel that she’s close by the way her walls are clenching around your tongue.

”yes you’re doing so great baby,” your hand that were previously on aeri’s butt lowers down, finding your own pussy soaked, aeri’s movements gets more and more desperate when you hear a loud pornographic moan. afraid that anyone hears it, your first instinct were to grab her neck and kisses her roughly as she rides out her high.

”wait-” as aeri try to catch her breath, you quickly take the advantage to crash your cunts together, grinding it harshly as you feel your high is about to come too.

”fuck aeri please let me use you, ’m sorry, fuckfuckfuck...” it really didn’t take you long to reach your high after tasting aeri’s sweet cunt. you collapse beside her, both of you panting, bodies slick with sweat. aeri's hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as she turns her head to look at you with a lazy, satisfied grin.

”not too bad for a virgin.”

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[ruhua-langblr]

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[kitorin]

in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.

itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.

"were you busy? i can ask later."

"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"

you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.

"what's your favourite thing about me?"

owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.

"i have to pick?"

you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."

rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."

"is what?"

"i love watching you sleep."

it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.

of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.

"rin that's so creepy—"

his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"

oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?

"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"

"but why's that?"

lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."

guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"

"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."

and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.

but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.

you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."

he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.

"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."

"wow. okay. i see—"

"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."

"very sweet of you, that's enough though."

"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"

"rin—"

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[starkwlkr]

saw that your request are open. I was wondering if you could write charles getting emotional because ruby just graduated high school

slipping through my fingers | charles leclerc

an: it’s been a while since I’ve written for ruby but we’re back baby!! guys idk how high school in monaco works so please don’t make fun of me if I get stuff wrong I’m doing research ok 😭 i went to school in america lol

The day was finally here. It was the day that Ruby had been waiting for her entire life and the day that Charles dreaded. His baby was graduating and he couldn’t accept the fact that she was growing up.

All morning, Charles had been taking pictures and reminding everyone that ‘Ruby was growing up too fast’. Everyone knew it of course, little Ruby Leclerc had grown up way too fast. It feels like it was just yesterday that she was messing around with Charles’ phone.

“Papa, hurry! I don’t want to be late!” Ruby practically shoved Charles out the door. She was dressed in a new dress that Y/n had bought her along with her cap and gown. While most of her friends were wearing heels or flats, Ruby went with her converse. It took lots of convincing for her parents to say yes, but I’m the end Ruby got to wear her red converse. Ruby then started running out the door in fear that she was going to be late for her own graduation.

“Wait! It’s okay. . .” Charles called out, grabbing his car keys from the counter. As he made it to the front door, he saw a picture of his family from his Monaco win. Back when Ruby was still asking him to tie her shoes and Mathéo still slept with his favorite blue blanket. “We have time.” He spoke to himself.

On the way to the ceremony, Ruby was talking about all the universities her friends were going to attend. Most were going to Harvard or Stanford. Ruby still hadn’t revealed where she would continue her studies and it made Charles nervous. Was she finally leaving Monaco?

“What did you want to be, papa?” Mathéo brought Charles back to reality. “Like when you were my age, what did you want to be?”

“Well, I always planned to be a Formula one driver, but if that didn’t work out then maybe an architect.” Charles replied.

“What about you, maman?”

“I always wanted to be a princess.”

The kids laughed, along with Charles. “But everyone calls papa the prince of Monaco so technically you are a princess!” Mathéo clarified.

“I guess you’re right, baby.”

When the Leclerc family made it to the school, Ruby spotted her uncles, aunts and grandmother. She immediately ran up to them and greeted them with kisses on the cheek and a hug.

“Stop growing!” Pascale placed another kiss on Ruby’s cheek.

“That’s what papa kept saying all morning!” Ruby laughed.

After everyone greeted each other, it was time for Ruby to get to her assigned seat. She quickly said a goodbye to each of her family members. Before she could leave to join her friends, Charles pulled her aside.

“I want to give you this. It’s your special day and you deserve something special.” Charles took out a small box from his pocket. He handed it to Ruby and watched as she opened it.

Ruby couldn’t believe it. She took the necklace out of the box and gasped. “It’s the one I wanted!”

“Let me help you put it on.” Charles offered. He took the box and placed it back in his pocket. Ruby turned around and lifted up her hair so Charles could put the necklace on her.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She turned around and gave him a hug. It was a much needed hug for Charles. His little girl was not a little girl anymore and he had to accept it.

“Go before you’re late. We’ll be watching.” Charles said to her before she left. He wiped away a tear and sighed. That’s when Arthur came up from behind him.

“Are you crying?” The younger Leclerc asked.

“I’m allowed to cry!”

“This feels like when you won Monaco.” Arthur chuckled.

“No, this is better than winning Monaco.” Yeah, watching his daughter cross the stage and accept her diploma? Truly better than all his wins combined.

[goldfades]

Can we get Joe dad where the five kids in the future stumble upon his trophy collection and they get caught by their dad wearing his future Super Bowl rings

is this like.. a series now? cause i kinda love jj, gigi and rosie. also the only reason why i don't do five kids is cause thats too many names to remember 🙂‍↕️

the kids were supposed to be playing outside. you’d sent them off with water bottles and sunscreen while joe was in his office, tackling emails. but the moment the house grew a little too quiet, you knew they were up to something.

“it’s fine, mom,” rosie had said earlier, brushing you off when you tried to give them more instructions. “we’re just gonna play tag.”

except they weren’t outside anymore. the faint sound of giggles led you down the hall to joe’s office, the door left slightly ajar. as you got closer, you heard jj’s unmistakable voice.

“guys, look at this!”

“jj, you’re not supposed to touch that!” gigi hissed, her voice a mix of exasperation and curiosity.

“it’s fine! dad won’t care,” jj insisted.

pushing the door open, you found the three of them huddled around joe’s display shelf, the one he never made a big deal about but kept neatly organized. jj, of course, was at the center of the chaos, holding one of joe’s future super bowl rings in his hand. his other hand was already wearing another, slightly too big for his small fingers but still sparking with pride in his eyes.

“jj!” rosie whisper-yelled, glancing over her shoulder as if she expected joe to materialize out of thin air. “you’re gonna get us all in trouble!”

“it’s just a ring,” jj said with a shrug, twisting it around on his finger. “look, gigi, put one on. they’re so cool!”

gigi hesitated for all of two seconds before giving in, sliding a ring onto her thumb because it was the only finger it would fit. “whoa,” she breathed, turning her hand in the light. “this is actually awesome.”

rosie, the voice of reason, crossed her arms. “i’m not doing it. dad said we’re not supposed to mess with his stuff.”

“rosie, live a little!” jj said, grinning. “besides, he probably doesn’t even care.”

“doesn’t care about what?”

the deep, familiar voice froze all three of them in place. they turned slowly to find joe leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. his expression was more amused than angry, but the kids didn’t seem to notice.

jj was the first to recover, straightening up and holding out his ring-clad hand. “uh… hey, dad. we were just… trying them on.”

joe stepped into the room, taking in the scene—jj looking guilty but still a little proud, gigi wide-eyed and fidgeting with the ring on her thumb, and rosie standing off to the side like she’d already written herself out of the story.

“you were just trying them on, huh?” joe said, crouching to jj’s level.

jj nodded, swallowing hard. “yeah. they’re really cool.”

joe studied him for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. “you think so?”

jj’s face lit up. “totally! i mean, look at this—” he held up his hand, the ring gleaming in the light. “—it’s like… legendary.”

joe chuckled, reaching out to ruffle jj’s hair. ��legendary, huh? well, they’re not just for wearing around the house, bud. these mean something.”

gigi chimed in, her curiosity getting the better of her. “what do they mean, dad?”

joe glanced at the shelf, his gaze softening. “it means a lot of hard work, a lot of teamwork, and a lot of people who believed in each other. but most importantly,” he said, looking back at them, “it means always having your team’s back—just like we do in this family.”

the kids exchanged glances, the weight of his words sinking in.

“so… are we in trouble?” jj asked hesitantly.

joe grinned, standing up and crossing his arms again. “let’s just say you’re lucky your mom didn’t catch you first.”

“too late,” you called from the doorway, unable to keep the smile off your face as all three kids whipped around to look at you. joe’s laugh filled the room, and before you knew it, jj was shoving the rings back onto the shelf with gigi’s help, both of them apologizing at the same time.

rosie, of course, was already halfway out the door, muttering something about how she knew this would happen.

“next time,” joe said, herding them toward the living room, “just ask. maybe i’ll even tell you the stories behind them.”

“really?” jj asked, his eyes lighting up.

joe nodded, throwing an arm around his son’s shoulders. “really. but first, you’re all on dish duty tonight.”

the collective groan that followed was almost worth the chaos.

[dovesdreaming]

Just get together already

Summary: You try so hard to deny that you have feelings for Benny even when he’s telling you he’s hopelessly in love with you every chance he gets. Why can’t you see what everyone else sees? (Vampire!reader) (1.5k words)

Requested

Masterlist

"Hey, bloodsucker” You glanced up from your untouched tray to find Benny sliding into the seat beside you, his signature smirk firmly in place. Ethan followed, offering a more timid smile as he sat across from you.

"Hey, spell nerd” You shot back, nudging him with your shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to be getting your daily allowance of pizza grease and regret?"

"Already inhaled it” Benny grinned, wiggling his fingers. "Gotta keep these bad boys powered up for casting spells and charming ladies”.

You snorted. "Guess it's only working for the spells, then”.

Ethan sputtered a laugh while Benny clutched his chest dramatically. "Wounded! The love of my life, the immortal goddess of my dreams, disrespects me in front of my own best friend!"

"More like in front of your only friend” you corrected, stealing a fry off his tray.

Benny's grin widened. "Please, if I didn’t know any better, I'd think you like me”.

Your eyes rolled, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night”. From across the table, Ethan sighed and shot Sarah a pointed look when she walked up. She glanced between you and Benny and muttered, "Just get together already. We're all sick of this, literally I can feel my breakfast coming back up from the sight of you two”.

"Yeah, okay” Benny said easily, looping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. "Right after she finally admits she's madly in love with me”.

Your laugh bubbled up, sharp and instinctive, and you swatted his hand away. "In your dreams, Weir”. But the way his arm had draped over your shoulders, warm and casual felt more natural than you’d like to admit.

After lunch classes continued and you managed to clear the thoughts of bennys teasing from your head instead focusing on whatever the teacher was droning on about. After another lot of homework was dumped on your work pile you knew it was gonna be another afternoon in the library with benny again. You didn’t know whether this made you feel excited or nervous.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Benny’s head snapped up from his phone, eyes wide. “Huh? Yeah, of course!”

You lifted an eyebrow, pointing to the notes sprawled across the table. "Oh, really? So what’s the answer to number four?”

He squinted at the paper. “Uh… B?”

“It’s a math question, Benny”.

He sighed, flopping back in his chair. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t get why we need algebra. Do you think I’ll be fighting vampires with the quadratic formula?”

“Well, no, but-“

“Exactly! I need to be studying important things, like defense spells, potion recipes… your favorite blood type” He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Gross” you snorted. “And I don’t have a favorite, you dork”.

“Come on” Benny leaned in, his face inches from yours. “Aren’t you a little curious? Like, what if your dream blood is out there? What if it’s mine?”

You laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Benny, I already know your blood would taste like Mountain Dew and bad decisions”

“Ouch” He pressed a hand to his chest, but his smile never faltered. “Lucky for you, I think all your vampire stuff is hot anyway”.

Your stomach did a weird little flip, but you quickly shot him a smirk. “Don’t you have a spell or class to be failing?”

You tried to put your head back down to concentrate on your work, you really wanted this done so it was one less thing on your mind but you knew with Benny around it’d take an immense amount of willpower to resist his presence. Willpower you didn’t posses so you gave in. You’d just have to complete the homework tonight like usual, you don’t know why you kept inviting him to your study sessions.

What you didn’t anticipate was that later would never come for your homework. You had sat down at your desk to finally complete it when your stomach growled but not for food, curse being a vampire. An overwhelming need for blood took over, the sort of craving you haven’t had since you started giving up human blood.

It led to a near slip-up. You’d felt that ache, that hunger clawing at you, so close to the edge of losing control. You didn’t know who else to go to, who else could calm you down like he did.

Benny had found you sitting on the curb outside his house, face buried in your hands. When he sat beside you, you didn’t have the energy to pretend.

“I almost…” you whispered, voice thick. “I could’ve hurt someone”. He was quiet, the stillness stretching. When you dared to look at him, his gaze was steady. Warm.

“But you didn’t” he finally said. “And you won’t. You’re stronger than that”.

“What if I’m not?” you murmured.

“Then I’ll be right there. I’ll help you”.

It was so simple, so Benny, that your throat tightened. “Why are you always like this?”

He blinked, a lopsided smile breaking through. “Because I’m in love with you, obviously”.

“Benny-“

“I’m serious”.

You shook your head, but the weight of his sincerity settled heavily on your shoulders. This was Benny. Always flirty, always playing around. You heart couldn’t take another punch tonight so you just let his words roll off of you.

You were thankful when Friday night finally came. Finally able to rest and not worry about school and of course being able to hang out with your friends. Friday is movie night at Ethan’s place, and as usual, Benny sat sprawled across the couch, his head resting on your lap. You ran your fingers absentmindedly through his hair, your eyes half-watching the screen while Ethan and Sarah whispered snide remarks beside you.

“Are we watching the movie or the world’s slowest confession?” Sarah muttered, nudging Ethan.

Ethan snickered, and you shot them both a playful glare. "I heard that”.

"Good!" Sarah grinned. "Maybe you'll finally realize what literally everyone else has”.

Benny craned his neck up to face you, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, you mean how I'm desperately, hopelessly, and completely in love with her?"

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, Benny. Keep dreaming”.

Ethan and Sarah exchanged a knowing look, but you chose to ignore it. It was just Benny being Benny. Flirty, bold, and impossible to take seriously.

Later, when the others had finally retreated to their own homes, you and Benny found yourselves alone in his room. The hum of his computer filled the quiet, and you leaned back against the wall, watching as he messed with some spell book he had picked up from Grandma Weir's collection.

"You're lucky you don't have to deal with this magic stuff” Benny said, flipping a page. "All you gotta do is look hot and, you know, not eat anyone”.

You rolled your eyes, but a soft laugh escaped. "Yeah, because resisting bloodlust is just that easy”.

His gaze softened, the usual playfulness fading into something sincere. "Hey, I know it's not. And I know you’re always worried about... slipping up or whatever. But you’re not a monster, okay?" It wasn't the first time he'd said something like that, reassured you that your vampire side didn't make you any less... you. But it still felt different every time.

You tried to brush off the way your chest tightened. "Yeah, well, you’re just saying that because you think I’m 'hot and badass.'"

"And because I love you” he added smoothly, a grin flickering at his lips.

You laughed, the sound wavering just slightly. "Oh, please”.

He set the book down and turned to face you fully. His smile softened, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious, you know. I love you. Not just in the ‘oh wow, she’s hot’ way. In the 'I think about you all the time and want to be around you forever' way”.

Your smile faltered, caught between disbelief and something that felt like hope. Something was different about the way he was saying those words now. “You- you can’t be serious”.

Benny’s eyes never wavered. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time”

Because you were a vampire. Because you had parts of you that craved blood and darkness, parts that scared you sometimes. Because Benny deserved someone easy and safe.

“Because I’m a vampire, Benny” It came out weaker than you intended.

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to gently hold your arms. “I don’t care. I think all of that just makes you more... you. And I think you’re amazing”.

Your mind spun, every instinct telling you to laugh it off like always. But the sincerity in his eyes wouldn’t let you.

“Are you- like, actually serious?” you whispered.

“Completely”

His face was inches from yours, his eyes warm and unwavering. You took a breath, feeling every hesitation crumble under his gaze.

“I think... I think I love you, too” you admitted quietly.

A grin broke across his face bright, infectious, so completely Benny. “Yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, the familiar banter slipping back into place. “Yes, idiot”.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in and kissed him, his breath hitching just before his lips met yours. When you pulled back, his grin was still there, but softer, sweeter.

“Finally” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. And for once, you didn’t laugh it off.

[evillama666]

“Play fighting”

“Play fighting” 

Daryl Dixon x Reader

It's my second fanfic!

I can totally see Daryl play fighting. Less stressful than real fights 

Summary: Reader asks Daryl if they can play fight but he wasn’t prepared for how strong they are. Also he teaches them some stuff  

No damsels in distress here! 

Tags: I don’t fucking know, Platonic??? Some dirty thoughts, Happy Daryl (:

Word count: 4105

At first it was only like two-thousand so I wanted to make it longer but I didn't mean by another two-thousand words!

He's so ridiculous

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

When you asked Daryl if he was up for play fighting, he was hesitant at first. He doesn’t want to fucking hurt you, but he thought it would be a good opportunity to teach you how to fight. Also, he and Merle used to play fight as kids all the time! Mostly… Kinda… Ok, leave out the word play. 

When he told you, you don’t have to go easy on him, he wasn’t expecting you to take it so seriously. He groans as he touches his ribs. He’s going to be all bruised by this afternoon. Hot… Despite being all bruised up, he’s smiling and laughing the whole time in the sun. It’s the happiest you've ever seen him. Of course he’s going easy on you. Again, doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can handle a beating himself. But damn, do you punch like a bitch. He studies your style as you fight and picks up on anything you need to work on. If you’re going to fight, he wants you to do it properly. 

“Here.” He grunts as he takes your hand in his. “Hold ya fist like this. Less strain on your wrist.” He carefully positions your fingers and hand correctly. Once he’s satisfied, he lets go. “Now punch me.” You don’t hesitate to land a punch square in his chest. Huh, that really is less strain on the wrist. He has to stifle back a groan. Motherfucker! That hurt. There’s no way he’s getting his ass beat by this tiny girl…

He rubs his chest for a brief second, not showing that he was hurt. “How’d that feel?” You glance down at your hand, rubbing your wrist. “A lot better than what I was doing.” Daryl takes the second you’re looking away to rub his chest. His eyes roam over you. You seem to know what you’re doing. “Ya ever fought before?” 

You look up when he asks that question, then shake your head. “No, but I used to play around with my dad and brother a lot.” Oh. Of course you grew up around men. He can clearly see that. “Tha’s gonna help you in this world. Just need ta fix a few thangs. I’ll show ya.” Having Daryl, who actually knows how to fight, teach you, is crucial. He comes up to you, a little cautious because you keep pulling dirty moves. Now that he’s behind you, he puts his hands on your shoulders, straightening them out. “Proper posture is beneficial.”

He takes back a step so he can show you. He lazily points at his shoulders with his thumbs. Is he flexing on purpose? Either way, those damn arms are taunting you. “See how ma shoulders are aligned?” He puts his hands back on your shoulders as he spreads your legs with his foot. That was so damn easy for him. Your cheeks flush as you think of him doing that in a very different situation. Luckily, he’s behind you, so he can’t see. “And balance. Gotta have good balance so ya opponent can’t just’ knock ya over.” He gives your body a few good jolts to demonstrate. You swear he’s testing you on purpose… 

He crosses his arms over his chest as he examines your stance. “Now ya good at throwing ya weight behind ya punches but, now that ya balanced, it’s gonna be easier.” Well, might as well test that. You raise your fist, aiming for his chest again. It’s just so broad, it’s easy to aim for. And you don’t wanna seriously hurt him. He backs up, knowing damn well you were going to try to pull a dirty move. He grabs your fist with one hand, blocking himself with his other arm. “Ain’t that easier?”

“I thought we were gonna play, not give me a damn fighting lesson! You huff as you try to pull your fist out of his grasp. You know why Daryl is teaching you these things, but he couldn’t choose a time when you weren’t in such a playful mood? Daryl easily manoeuvres your body until he’s got his arm wrapped around your throat. He’s gotta be testing you, right? You yell and flail. “No! Chokehold’s illegal!” He smirks, knowing you’re using his own damn words against him. 

“Get out of it.” He’s joking, right? This man’s got his beefy arms around your tiny little neck and he just wants you to get out of it? This is gonna be another lesson, isn’t it? You tug on his arm, desperately trying to get out. Maybe he’ll just let you go? …He won’t. He’s not using a lot of strength, but he does tighten his grip a little as a warning. After some more flailing, your body finally slumps. You mumble, reluctantly giving into his other lesson. “How.” You state, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of actually asking.

His smirk widens. You’ve gotta learn this eventually and you gave him the perfect opportunity. “It’s all in the grip. You gotta make ‘em let go. Either hit ‘em somewhere sensitive or knock ‘em off balance. As soon as that grip is loosened, you can get out.” You roll your eyes. He seriously expects you to do that to him? “I’m not gonna be able to do that to you.” His grip tightens just a bit before letting go. He’s got a smug smirk. “Nah. Leas’ ya learned.” 

You rub your neck once he’s let go. Oh, to have those arms wrapped around you in a whole other situation- The words ‘knock them off balance’ rings through your head. Yeah, it’ll be hard to knock Daryl off balance, but he would look so good under you if you did. So, you shove your full body weight into his chest. He doesn’t budge an inch. He tilts his head. “I ain’t mean now.” You huff out a breath of annoyance as you back up. Ok, that was a little embarrassing. You didn’t even make him budge. Time to pull out another dirty move. 

You inhale deeply as you kick out his knee. He groans as his hand darts to where you kicked. “Ah! You bitch!” Now that he’s half on the ground and in pain, it’s going to be easier to knock him over. You shove his chest, his back hitting the grass with a thud. At Least he got a soft landing… Kinda. Now you’re straddling his hips with your hands on either side of your head. Ok, you didn’t think of what to do now once you got here. He smirks up at you. “This what ya wanted?”

You shake your head as you fight a smile. “Shut up, Dixon.” You sit up, playfully shoving at his chest. You give him a second for the pain in his knee to relieve. Now that he’s like this, you can get a lot of hits in. You don’t give him too long before you’re back to punching his already sore chest. He blocks most of the punches with his arms. He knows you won’t go for his face. “Damn bitch. Ya like playing dirty, huh?” His voice is rough and low. Your punches don’t relent. “It’s the only way I’m gonna do anything to you.”

A low laugh escapes his chest. Fair enough. He has nothing against you playing dirty. He’d happily let you beat him to a pulp if it’d satisfy you. A few grunts slip his lips as you hit some particularly sore spots. For as long as you two have been going at it, you assume he’s a bit sore now. The only thing bothering you is a slight stinging in your knuckles. You get quite a few more punches in before resting your hands on his chest and catching your breath.

You know he could use a break too. He’s been taking a lot of your punches. You know you caught a few winces from him even though he was trying to hide it. Your head bows as you catch your breath and Daryl brushes whatever hair that fell behind your ear. “Tired?” You meet his eyes. How does this man seem perfectly fine? You're all out of breath while he’s barely panting. “Just… gotta catch my breath.”

“Take as much time as you need, sweetheart.” His hands move up to your hips. “Not like I'm going to many places.” Ugh, you’re too exhausted to even have a dirty thought. Daryl watches you as you’re sitting on him, panting like a damn dog. Maybe he’s having some thoughts, maybe not. It’s hard to read his face. “Ya need some water?” As much as you’d love to take a break, you know damn well Daryl isn’t going to let you get him on the ground again. You swallow dryly as you shake your head. Your voice is pretty breathless. “M’no, just gotta take a sec to catch my breath. What about you?” That’s a stupid question to ask. The man looks like nothing has even happened to him. 

His eyes rake over your body, making sure you’re actually ok before responding. “Could go for another round.” Seriously, fuck him. How dare he be perfectly fine while you’re dying over here. You know what? You shove your elbow down on his sternum. His stomach clenches and he groans as you slam your elbow down. Always his damn chest. He rubs between his pecs as he catches his breath. “What is-..... What is with you… and my damn chest?” You’re finally starting to catch your breath. You shrug and shoot you a quick innocent smile. “Easy to aim at.”

His hands find their place back on your hips now that he’s done rubbing his chest. He’s going to have a lot of bruises tomorrow. He laughs gruffly. “And here I thought you just had a thing for it.” Both could be true… You sit up straight, now having caught your breath. It honestly felt like you were going to flop over and die just now. How is he so in shape? Maybe he could teach you a thing or two about that because boy, do your lungs need it. “Are you sore?” You ask, knowing you did a number on his chest and ribs. He shrugs, fiddling with the top of your shorts. “Been through worse.” That’s not an answer you liked. You hope you didn't trigger anything for him. Though it didn't seem like you did. You’ve never seen Daryl smile as much as he has playing with you. You know Daryl could flip you over any second, and the thought is exhilarating. You want to see how long he’ll let you be in this position, though. “You look good like this. ~” 

“I knew you wanted to see me like this, freak.” Daryl smirks as he looks up at you. He could admit, you look good like this too. But it doesn't last long before he’s flipped you over on to your back. You laugh as your hands rest on his chest. “Going to turn this into another lesson?” His hair falls around your face. “Nah, ya seemed annoyed with the headlock, so I thought we could just play now.” You shove Daryl’s chest, trying to get him off you. He doesn’t show any signs of pain except a few nose twitches. You hate how good he is at hiding when he’s in pain. He smiles as he looks down at you. “Not so fun now that the roles have been switched, huh?"

You laugh again. He loves hearing that sound, and he’s been getting to hear it a lot now. “No, I’m enjoying the view.” He shakes his head as he crawls off you and offers you a hand to sit up. He’s not going to keep you pinned down the whole time you’re supposed to be playing. Where’s the fun in that? “You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.” You shrug, finding no offence in that. It’s true after all. Now that he’s sitting on his knees, you shove into his shoulder. There’s no intent in knocking him over again. You already had your fun with that. He laughs and shoves you right back. He’s still being gentle. 

You shove him again, this time elbowing his ribs. You didn't put your full strength behind it since you know he’s sore. He grunts as you elbow him. “C’mon, don’t go easy on me.” He shoves you back, knocking you on your ass. You get up and tackle his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Listening to his words, you decide to yank on his hair. He laughs loudly. “Fuckin’ cheater!” As he’s trying to throw you off his back, you can’t help but notice his shirt riding up. When your grip quickly lets go, he wonders what the hell you’re doing before he feels you pulling his shirt down, promptly covering his scars. You know how he feels about them. He looks over his shoulder with a look of silent appreciation. The fact he didn’t flip out on you or walk off without saying a word shows how he’s comfortable with you. “Wanna keep going?”

You shrug as you answer. “Yep!” You can tell how much Daryl cares about you by the way he keeps making sure you’re ok. He grabs you by your shoulders and tosses you onto the grass. Just as he’s starting to stand up, you scramble up, tackling his back once more to keep him on the ground. He grunts as you start punching his sides again. He’s going to get a broken rib at this rate. “Ya know the most sensitive places, don’t ya?” You rest your head on his shoulder as you answer. “Yea, you’re lucky I haven't kneed you in the nuts…. yet.” 

Daryl can’t tell if that’s a dirty move you’d use. He sure as hell hopes not. He mumbles under his breath before knocking you off. “Smartass.” At Least he knows he doesn't have to worry about you handling yourself in a real fight. He playfully punches your sides before you can get up. It’s no fun if he doesn't get a few hits in. “Always block ya face, alright? It’s the most fragile and it ain’t exactly like you can fix ya pretty lil’ thang with surgery if ya get banged up.” You can’t help but smile as you tease him. “You think my face is pretty?” Fuck, did he let that slip? “I ain’t mean it like that.” He says sternly. 

You laugh loudly as his small punches on your sides turn into tickles. You certainly weren't expecting that. He’s smiling and laughing along with you. “Ya gotta be prepared for anythin’ in a fight.” Your brows raise as you look at him. “Tickles!? Is that something I should worry about!?” He laughs as he leans his face down lower, closer to yours. He’s got you pinned to the ground, in between your legs. “With me, yeah.” You squirm, trying to get away, but your attempts are futile. “I didn't think of you as someone who enjoys tickling!”

His hands move down from your ribs, to your sides, which are even more sensitive. “Nah, just like hearin’ ya laugh.” You weakly shove his chest. “I’ve been laughing this whole time!” He can’t help but laugh more. “Then I like keepin’ ya on edge.” The punches and shoves to his chest are very weak, and it’s getting harder to breathe from laughing. “You're such a fucking asshole! Stop!” Daryl is taking note of your breathing. It’s fine to get air into your lungs so he doesn’t stop yet. You groan playfully as you keep laughing. He’s addicted to that sound. “Come on Daryl! Stop!” He ignores your demands, but his movements do slow down. He lowers his head, just above yours. “Why should I?” It’s so infuriating when he tests you like this. Your hands go to his wrists, but it’s not enough to get him to stop.

“Let me breathe!” You laugh out. He hums like he’s in thought. All of a sudden his tickles speed back up, making you thrash around. “Daryl!” After a moment more he stops, sitting up as he listens to your giggles slowly die out. He puts his hands on your knees as he sits between your legs. A smirk forms on his lips as he listens to your laughs turn into little pants. He’s actually learning a lot about your body as he wrestles with you. He makes a mental note of where you're most ticklish. He’s so going to use that against you. 

Just when you catch your breath, you kick him in the stomach, knocking him over. It’s not hard enough to actually hurt or wind him, just enough to push him. A loud groan escapes deep from his throat. He stares up at the sky as he breathes. He really should have kept his guard up for that one. Now he’s laying here, wondering what the hell your next move is. You jump up and land right on his chest. That did not pair nicely with the kick to his stomach. Maybe you’re actually starting to wear him out. ‘Man, I better not be getting fuckin’ old.’ He thinks as he just lays there and takes it. 

Just to prove to himself he’s not, he rolls you over. You laugh at the sudden move and he laughs as you try to do the same right back to him. Helping you out, he lets you roll him over. A couple of group members think you're fucking crazy, rolling around in the grass as they're out here doing chores. Daryl must be comfortable with you if he’s rolling around with you in front of the group, not giving a damn about who sees and what they think about him right now. Ain’t that cute?

“Are we just gonna keep rollin’ around like fuckin’ pigs, or are you gonna do something?” He teases with a smirk as he looks at you above him yet again. Your muscles are finally feeling sore. You can only imagine how Daryl’s feeling and he still wants to play? He notices the weariness in you, knowing you two can’t be playing for too much longer. You shove his face. “Shut up. I just needed a minute.” He huffs as he yanks your hand off his face. There’s a hint of concern in his voice, “Ya sure you don’t wanna end it here?” Honestly, you felt like you should have stopped a while ago but, who knows when you're going to experience this level of fun again, and you wanted Daryl to experience as much of it for as long as possible. You force a small smile. “Stop asking! I’m good!”

Do you think he wouldn't pick up your smile was forced? The weariness in your eyes? The slightly strained cheery tone? He knows you better than that, but pushes those thoughts down. Maybe you just want some more fun. It’s not like you’re in pain, just a little tired. “Just lookin’ out.” And with that, he rolls you off of him. As you start crawling away, too tired to actually run, he pulls you back by your waist. “Come on, don’t just run away.” He whispers, as he leans over your shoulder, adding a little more weight to your back. Laughing, you squirm out from under him before he can squash you. “I wasn't!” No, you were. You totally were. He laughs as he hugs your back to his chest, pinning you against him. “Sure as hell looked like it.” Grabbing and pulling on his arms, you try to release his grip. He laughs against your shoulder as he hugs you tightly. Damn, you should definitely ask for hugs from this man. This is one of the most comforting embraces you’ve ever had and it’s not even a real damn hug. A long laugh escapes your lips as you slump against his body. “You can’t keep pinning me!” He chuckles as he pulls you onto the ground with him. 

Slipping away, you manage to crawl a few feet away from him, gaining a second to breathe before he’s on top of you again. “Didn’t I just say no running?” You punch his chest as you argue. “I crawled!” He hums in amusement as he grabs your wrists. “Still counts.” He says, tugging you up towards his body before dropping you against the grass. A breath leaves your lungs as you hit the ground. You sit up, pulling yourself away, then shoving into his chest weakly. The exhaustion is kicking in and he can tell. So, helping out, he allows himself to fall onto the ground. You fall with him, landing against the grass beside him, not putting up anymore of a fight. The grass feels soft enough to sleep on. 

 “Ya wanna get some water now? Been at this for a while.” You meet his eyes, trying to catch your breath, cheek pressed against the grass, looking absolutely drained. You can feel the soreness of your body settling and your throat seems to get dryer with each breath. You slowly nod and he stands up, lending his hand out for you. “Les’ get some wata in ya, then.” He pulls you to your feet effortlessly. He leads the way to the coolers, then tosses a bottle at you. You’re never taking a cold bottle of water for granted ever again. Daryl shoves your shoulder when you chug, making you spill some. “What the hell!?” You snap at him. He takes a small sip before responding. “Ya gonna make yaself sick doin’ that.” 

You roll your eyes as you reluctantly take smaller sips before glancing over at him again. His chest is rising up and down deeply. He doesn't seem that out of shape as you. It physically hurts to breathe right now. It was probably the right time to end it. As you look over him, he’s looking over you for any injuries. “Y’ain’t hurt?” You pull the bottle away from your lips as you answer. “No, just sore.” He nods once before squeezing your shoulder. “Then ya rest now.” He says, before walking off before you get a chance to ask if he’s ok. 

꩜…꩜…꩜…

Later that day, you find him alone, per usual. He’s sitting by himself around an unlit fire pit. You sit down next to him, handing him a bag of ice. You know he needs it. “Here. Got it from the infirmary.” A long satisfied sigh leaves his lips as he presses it into his ribs. That sound causes more of those thoughts. “Thanks.” He mumbles gruffly before adding, “Can’t believe I got my ass kicked by you.” A soft, amused sound escapes your lips. “You wouldn’t have if you used a bit more of your strength.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, I still woulda. Ya lot stronga than ya look.” A small smile tugs at your lips. That, coming from Daryl, must be true then. “How bad is it?” You ask, hoping he may actually answer this time. He doesn’t but silently lifts his shirt just enough to show you all the yellow, purple, and green bruises that formed on his ribs. And there will be more formed by tomorrow. Knowing you got to mark Daryl up like that is hot, but you still feel bad. Looking away down at your hands, you mumble, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He says, just a bit louder than you. “I had fun for… the first time in ages. So….. thanks for that.” He shoots you a small but genuine smile and you can’t help but smile back. You could tell he was having fun. He wouldn’t stop laughing or smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so genuinely happy. “So, when can I beat your ass again?” He tries to stifle a laugh. “Damn, let my bruises fade first.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. He laughs and shoves you back. “Asshole.” 

You sigh heavily, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have the best sleep tonight.” You’re beyond exhausted. You would have taken a nap, but you’re holding it till tonight so you can really pass out. Daryl grunts in agreement. That was quite the workout he just had. “Didn’t know I needed a little bitch to beat the shit out of me so I can finally sleep for once.” A small but tired laugh of amusement leaves you. “Happy to help, anytime.” Daryl leans his cheek on your head, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He’s being vulnerable.

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

I hate this part

[snooperzz]

Back on You- pt. 2

Read pt. 1 here !! Robert "Bob" Reynolds x female!Reader/OC (ft. Peter Quill) Word count: 4.3k Warnings: very little angst Note: this is written in third person & reader/oc is unnamed! you can also read this story on ao3 :) Summary/Excerpt: Her thoughts began to drift back to the pager, to the new number, to Peter. What if something had happened to him? What if he was in trouble? Was that why he sent her a message? She realized that as much as she was scared to, as much as she had avoided it the past few years, she needed to reach out to him. She needed to call that number. Even if it was just to make sure he was okay.

She had gotten a message.

It was on her pager. The one that Peter gave her before he left. It had happened earlier that morning, while she was in the kitchen eating breakfast with the rest of her team. She hadn’t seen it until she got back to her room.

It was a number. A phone number, she thought, and it was different from the one Peter had put on the pager. 

She wasn’t sure what to do about it, so she decided to go for a walk to clear her head. Ever since Bucky had found her out on the helicopter pad that night, he had been a broken record, telling her day in and out how walking always helped a burdened mind. Probably something he heard from his therapist.

So, she left the Watchtower, grabbing one of the books Bob lent her on her way out. Normally, he might join her, but today was one of his bad days. One of the days where the pit inside him, the void, threatened to get out. To take over. He usually preferred to stay in his room on those days, away from everyone else. They all understood, of course, and gave him his space. 

She did send him a text before she left, just to keep him updated. To let him know she was still there for him. 

Texting was new to her. She had gotten a cheap flip phone back when she and Bucky lived in Brooklyn together. Bucky was insistent on buying her one after she told him she found her own place, adamant that she had it so they could stay in touch. 

Then, a few days ago, John had seen her in the penthouse’s living area struggling to navigate the T9 keyboard. 

He snorted at her. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

He leaned against the bar counter, eyeing her up and down. She was sitting on the couch, slouched over, trying to get a good look at the machine.

“I’m trying to text Yelena. She went to the store, and I forgot to tell her we ran out of cheez its.”

“Your obsession with cheez its should be studied,” he mused, laughing at her. “Why don’t you just call her?”

“I tried, but she won’t answer.”

“Are you sure the call’s even going through? That thing is ancient,” he pointed to her phone. “I mean, who let you buy that?”

“Bucky got it for me,” she defended herself, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Well, that makes a lot of sense now. He knows nothing about technology.”

She ignored him, shifting her attention back to her phone. She began jamming the buttons on it again, trying to get it to work.

John took a deep breath and hung his head. “Alright, I can’t take it anymore. Come on,” he ordered, waving her over.

She looked up at him but didn’t move quite yet. “What? What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to get a new phone. I can’t stand to look at you trying to use that thing.”

“Walker, I don’t need a new phone.” Despite her words, she got up from the couch, following him as he led her to the elevator and out of the building.

“You know how to hack into alien technology. You deserve to know how to use a smartphone.”

Now, she was using the map on her new smartphone to find her way to a nearby park, breathing in the crisp air as she walked along the sidewalk. It was peaceful outside today. The sun was warm on her skin, and she could hear birds singing all around her. She found a bench to sit on and closed her eyes, trying to clear her head.

However, her mind was still buzzing, still trailing back to when she found that new number on her pager. Sighing, she pulled out Bob’s book, flipping to the first chapter. Maybe if she just focused on something else, focused on this story, she could get her mind off things for a little bit. 

And that’s exactly what she did. For hours, actually. She didn’t realize how long she had been sitting at the park, entranced by the novel in her hands.

She was finally alerted by a soft buzz in her lap, and she looked down to see her phone screen light up. Bob had responded to her text from earlier with a thumbs up emoji. It was little, but it let her know that he was still there.

Her thoughts began to drift back to the pager, to the new number, to Peter. What if something had happened to him? What if he was in trouble? Was that why he sent her a message? She realized that as much as she was scared to, as much as she had avoided it the past few years, she needed to reach out to him. She needed to call that number. Even if it was just to make sure he was okay.

Plus a part of her almost wanted to call. To hear his voice again.

So, she made a deal with herself. She would make her way back to the Watchtower, and if she hadn’t changed her mind by the time she got there, if she hadn’t convinced herself not to, she would do it.

By the time she got back to the Watchtower, her mind was still determined to make the call. Which had to be a good thing, right? A step in the weight direction, at least. 

Luckily, the penthouse was empty, save for Bob. The New Avengers had been called out on a mission that day, but she had opted to stay behind and watch out for him. They usually tried not to leave him all alone on his off days, choosing to keep at least one other person around in case he needed anything. Or anyone. And lately, that person had been her.

She sat down on the couch in their living area and pulled out her phone, then her pager. With shaking hands, she opened up the phone app and typed in the number.

She paused for a moment, staring at the screen. It felt crazy how such a small movement, just pushing that green call button, felt so heavy. So daunting.

Before she could think about it any longer, she pressed it, quickly moving the phone up to her ear.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Just when the third ring began, it was cut off.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other end. A voice she would know anywhere, no matter how long it had been since they had last seen each other.

“Peter?” It came out quiet. Shaky.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Until, she heard him call her name quietly, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually talking to her.

She nodded, then remembered he couldn’t actually see her. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Hey, ” came his voice again. He said it with such familiarity, her heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually call.”

“Yeah, me either,” she laughed awkwardly.

“You never paged me.”

She felt a pang in her chest. Guilt. “Yeah, I know. I was…scared to I guess.”

“Scared?” He sounded shocked, maybe even a little offended. “Why?”

That was a loaded question. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of what to say. How to explain how she felt the past few years. How she was feeling right then.

“I don’t know. I just…figured you were busy, you know? Tracking down Gamora and all.”

He didn’t say anything, but she heard him sigh on the other end.

“Did you ever catch up to her?” she asked, confused at his lack of response.

He huffed out a laugh. “We did, yeah. It’s a bit of a long story, but, uh,” he paused for a moment. “She’s moved on.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened at his words. She was definitely not expecting that. Last time she saw him, he had been so determined to get her back. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I guess it makes sense. Since she was technically a different Gamora. From a different time and all that. Not sure I really understand what happened there, but it is what it is.” 

He was trying to sound cool, relaxed, but she could tell that he was hurting more than he let on. Peter was good at lying to con-men or talking his way out of sticky situations with the Ravagers, but he had never been able to get anything past her. She knew him too well.

“What about everyone else? Rocket? Drax?” she asked, pivoting to a different subject.

“I think they’re good. We all sorta moved on, I guess. Mantis and Drax are doing their own thing now, and Rocket recruited some more Guardians to his team.”

“His team? Is he the leader now?”

“Yeah, I figured it was time to pass the torch. He probably won’t live up to the epic captain that I was, but I decided to at least let him try.”

She snorted, remembering the countless arguments between Peter and Rocket over who actually was the leader of their little group.

“What about you? How have you been?” he asked.

“Pretty good. Busy, which is nice. Helps get my mind off things.”

“Yeah, I bet. I, uh…I saw you on the news. The New Avengers? Sounds pretty badass,” he commented, curiosity evident in his tone.

She could feel her chest grow warm, flattered by his words, but something he said caught her attention.

“Wait, you saw me on the news?”

“Uh…yeah,” he sounded stiff.

“Are they broadcasting Terran news up in space now or something?”

“No, uh,” he responded. A beat of silence followed. “I’m in Missouri. With my grandpa.”

“Oh.” Her mind was racing. Peter was back on Earth? He had left the Guardians too?

“Yeah, Mantis kinda convinced me to do it,” he explained. “Ever since my mom died, I’ve just avoided the idea of coming back here. But, I finally realized it might be good for me to see my family again. Spend some time with them.”

“That’s great,” she said softly, nodding her head. A past version of her would have been jealous of him. Jealous that he had a family to go back to. But now she had a family too, and she was grateful for the family she had found in the New Avengers.

Of course she had loved being a part of the Guardians, traversing space with them everyday, protecting the galaxy. But space never felt like home. There was always a piece of her missing, and she felt like she had finally found it, here with the Thunderbolts. With Bob.

Peter said her name, grabbing her attention.

“Yeah?” she whispered, waiting for his next words.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you those last few years,” he replied, voice etched in guilt.

“You don’t have to–”

“No,” he interrupted. “I do. When we all became the Guardians of the Galaxy, it all went to my head. I wanted so badly to impress everyone, all our new friends. Especially Gamora. But you… you’re like the little sister I never had, and what I became during that time…I wasn’t a good brother.”

“You were still there for me, though. I knew you were.”

“Not as much as I should have been. You know that. And I know it too,” he argued.

In all honesty, she was surprised to hear him say all this. Back then, she never confronted him about how she felt. Jealous. Pushed aside. She just ignored it, choosing to complain to Rocket rather than confront Peter. She was pretty sure Rocket eventually got annoyed listening to her vent about Peter all the time. But griping about the man was one of his favorite pastimes, so he tolerated it.

Her feelings had come to a head, though, right before everything went down with Thanos. They had just picked up Thor, and Rocket and Groot had decided to leave with the god for Nidavellir to help him get his hammer. She chose to tag along, but before the team split up, Peter pulled her aside.

“Why are you siding with Rocket on this?” he accused. “We all know that I’m the leader, not him. This ‘god’ has no idea what he’s talking about.” He chuckled in disbelief, gesturing towards Thor. 

She simply rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her. “Are you serious, Peter? That’s what you’re concerned about right now?”

His eyes widened, jaw dropping at her words. “No,” he sputtered. “I’m concerned about Thanos too! Obviously. But why are you leaving with them? We need to stick together,” he pushed, gesturing between the two of them.

She shook her head. “No. They need my help. You’ve got plenty of people going with you to Knowhere already.”

“But I need to protect you,” he protested.

She scoffed. “You do not need to protect me. You don’t need me at all. You’ve got Gamora.” She patted his shoulder, giving him a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She winced as she turned away from him, part of her regretting her words. But she was tired of following him around all the time. She wanted to make her own decisions for once. Still, the little piece of her that regretted how she spoke to him that day grew each day she didn’t see him after the Snap.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Peter spoke again, pulling her back into their phone call. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” she finally replied. “I probably could have done things a little differently back then too.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. She felt a sense of relief, like a pit had been sitting in the bottom of her stomach for years, and it was finally starting to disappear. She didn’t regret calling him at all. Part of her even wished she had reached out sooner.

“I did have another question, though,” Peter said suddenly.

“What’s up?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Who was that random dude up there with you guys? When that ‘Valentine’ lady said you guys were the New Avengers?”

She pursed her lips, confused. “Random guy?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “There were the six of you guys looking all cool and badass, and then some rando in frumpy clothes.”

She laughed as she realized who he meant. “I think you’re talking about Bob.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, Bob.”

“You guys were standing up there with a guy named Bob?”

She smiled, glad they were talking over the phone and not in person, so he couldn’t see how red her face was getting. She definitely did not expect the conversation to turn in this direction. “It’s a long story, but he’s pretty cool. I think you’d like him.”

Just as she finished her sentence, the elevator to the penthouse opened, and the rest of her team walked through the doors. They each gave her a funny look as they entered the room, clearly not expecting to find her on the phone.

Peter had been telling her something, but between her embarrassment of being under the watchful eye of her friends and trying not to pay attention to their not-so-quiet whispers of who she could be talking to, she didn’t catch anything her old friend had said.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear y–”

“Who could you possibly be talking to right now?” John called out, his voice thundering from across the room. “Is that Bob?”

“Bob?” she heard Peter’s voice repeat in her ear.

Of course he heard him. If her face wasn’t red before, it definitely was now. “You know,” she started. “I think I’m going to let you g–”

“Why would she be talking to her boyfriend on the phone when he’s just down the hall? That makes no sense,” Alexei’s voice boomed, cutting her off.

“Boyfriend?” Peter repeated again. “Wait a minute, is Bob your boyfriend?” She could hear him holding back a laugh.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she retaliated, talking to both Peter and the people standing across from her.

“Oh, we all know you guys kiss now,” John taunted, earning a kick from Yelena. He yelped in surprise. “What? We do!”

“I’m hanging up now,” she groaned, using her free hand to cover her face. “But I’ll keep in touch, okay?” She ended the call before she could hear his answer, quickly setting her phone face down before looking up at the rest of them. “What the hell, guys? Are you serious?”

“Very serious,” Alexei responded. “Very serious that we want to know who you were talking to.”

They looked at her expectantly, finally quiet now that she wasn’t on the phone anymore. Naturally.

“That was Peter,” she stated, her eyes darting over to Bucky. His eyebrows raised at her words.

“Ah!” Alexei gasped. “Peter the brother!”

She tilted her head side to side and shrugged. “He’s like a brother.”

“Is he looking for new members for the Guardians of the Galaxy? ” Alexei continued, wiggling his eyebrows. “I have some free time on the weekends.”

“No, you do not,” Ava rebutted, shooting him an incredulous look.

“I could give them a ride in my limo! No charge,” he defended.

“In space?” Ava’s face scrunched up as she shook her head at him.

“How is he?” Bucky spoke up, cutting off their conversation. He looked at her carefully.

“He’s good,” she nodded. “Not recruiting any Guardians, though.” She gave Alexei a sympathetic look.

Alexei shrugged, waving his hand at her. “That’s fine. Ava’s right. The limo was a dumb idea.”

“And you? Are you good too?” Bucky pressed further, eyes not leaving her.

“Yeah I’m okay,” she assured, a smile growing on her face. “I’m really good.”

That night, she found herself on the couch once again. She was alone, everyone else having gone to bed, and she had wrapped herself up in a throw blanket, the warm glow of the lamp beside her lighting up the pages of Bob’s book. She had nearly finished it while at the park that day, and she hoped to reach the ending before heading to bed.

“Hey,” a quiet voice said, pulling her from the book in her hands.

She looked up to see Bob, freshly showered and sporting his favorite sweater. He walked over to where she was sitting, lifted up the empty side of her blanket, and settled into the couch beside her, placing the blanket back over them.

“Hi.” She looked over at him, taking in how the orange hues of the lamp highlighted his face. They were close. Shoulder to shoulder. Thigh to thigh. He let out a deep breath and shifted beside her, pulling out another one of his books. And her walkman. She smiled when she saw it.

“Did that help at all today?” she asked, tapping the device.

She had given it to him a few days earlier, suggesting he use it next time the emptiness, the void, tried to take over. Listening to music always provided a small distraction for her, a small relief. It always helped her feel a bit better on her worst days, and she told him as much. 

He lifted the walkman up, giving her a short nod. “A little. I listened to uh…” He peaked at the tape sitting inside. “‘Awesome Mix Volume 1.’”

She laughed softly. She had probably heard the entirety of that tape millions of times. “That’s a good one.”

“I liked it,” he glanced over to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. “How was, uh– how was your walk?”

“It was good,” she supplied. “I went to the park and read this for a while.” She raised his book.

“Oh yeah?” His smile grew. “You like it?”

“I love it,” she nudged him with her shoulder. “You’ve got great taste in books.”

“Thanks, yeah,” he began, his smile turning into a coy smirk. “That…among other things.” He shot a quick look at her again, as if he were testing the waters, waiting to see how’d she react.

Her face flushed, and she let out a surprised giggle. “Okay, Robert,” she gave him a teasing look. “I didn’t know you had game.”

“What do you mean? It’s how I got you wrapped around my finger.”

She scoffed, a shocked laugh escaping her. “Okay, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

“Right, sorry,” he chuckled.

As they both fell into a comfortable silence, she began to shift in her spot on the couch, trying to stretch her legs.

“You okay?” Bob asked, watching as she tried to get comfortable.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been sitting here for a while,” she gave him an apologetic smile. “Just a little stiff.”

“I can move if you want–”

“No!” She stopped him immediately. She definitely did not want him to move. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Okay,” he laughed nervously. He thought for a moment before speaking again. “You could stretch your legs across me.”

She considered his offer quietly, biting the inside of her bottom lip. It was pretty tempting.

“Only if you want,” he added, stuttering over his words. He was watching her intensely, like he was trying to figure out what was going on inside her head.

“I do,” she said finally, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

Nodding, he lifted the blanket again, letting her turn to face him and drape her legs across his lap. Once she got comfortable, he put the blanket back down. He left one hand below the cover, gently gripping her thigh, just above her knee.

“This okay?” he asked, situating the blanket to fully cover their laps.

“Perfect,” she breathed, leaning her head against the back of the couch. They sat like that for a while, not saying anything. Both reading their books. She could feel Bob’s thumb graze back and forth against her skin, his grip on her leg firm. Steady. She yawned, the end of the day beginning to catch up with her.

“I’m happy I got to see you tonight,” she confessed. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you at all today.”

“Me neither, honestly. Not one of my best days.” He looked over to her, taking her in. “What about you? How was your day?”

“It was good. I, uh…I talked to Peter today.”

“Really?” His eyes widened, and he set his book down, sitting up a little straighter. “You messaged him?”

She had talked to him about Peter before, of course, and the pager gave her. She talked about all of the Guardians. He had always been curious about her old friends, and he loved listening to all of her stories about them. He swore he could do it for hours.

“He messaged me, actually. He sent me his phone number, and I decided to call him.”

“How did it go? Was it okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “I think it went pretty well. He apologized. He’s back on Earth too, in Missouri with his family.”

“That sounds nice,” he commented, nodding.

“...He asked about you too,” she added, waiting to see his reaction.

His eyes widened. “Me? Why did he ask about me?”

She shrugged casually, a teasing smile on her face. “He saw you on the news with us. Wanted to know who you were.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you were Bob,” she informed him. “And that you’re pretty cool.” She chose not to mention the whole boyfriend-kissing-conversation that went down after everyone else got back from their mission that day.

“Nice,” he chuckled, looking somewhat relieved. “High praise.”

“Exactly,” she affirmed, poking him in the shoulder playfully.

“Maybe he could come visit sometime,” he offered, squeezing her leg.

“Maybe.” She thought about his suggestion. 

She still wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Peter in person again after all this time. After all the years she had spent avoiding reaching out, she wondered if she would ever really be ready to see him face to face again. To have him meet her new friends. Have him meet Bob. It would be odd, for sure, seeing her two worlds collide like that. At the same time, though…she wasn’t totally opposed to it.

Only time would tell.

She had fallen asleep. There, on the couch, trying to finish her book with Bob right there with her, reading his own. His presence was warm. Comforting. So really, it was no surprise.

He had dozed off too, the weight of her legs on his lap leaving him feeling secure. Relaxed. When he awoke, he gazed at her for a moment. She was snuggled against the back of the couch, wrapped cozily in their blanket. She looked peaceful, content. She looked beautiful.

He looked over to the clock sitting behind her, realizing how late it had gotten. Not wanting to disturb her, he stood up slowly, gently lifting the blanket off of them. He slung the blanket over his shoulder and grabbed their books, slipping them into his waistband. Then, he bent down and picked her up, careful not to wake her.

He carried her back to her room, gently placing her onto her bed. He left both their books on her nightstand, figuring she might like another one once she finished the one he’d already given her. He took the blanket off his shoulder, gingerly laying it upon her. Once he was satisfied she looked comfortable, he squatted down and placed a light kiss to her temple, tracing his fingers through her hair.

Eventually, he made his way back to his own room. As he climbed into bed, his chest was warm with anticipation, with the promise of seeing her tomorrow. And the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag II

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Child!Reader

Summary: You go hiking

When Mama returns to Sweden after her season ends, you go on more hikes. You go on hikes a lot anyway with Mummy and Jordan but you go out on more with Mama.

It's summer when Mama comes home so you get to take your basket out to forage.

Mummy's been foraging with you for ages now. She's very smart and Jordan's very good at finding the best truffle mushrooms. Mama's not quite as good as Mummy but that's okay because she's learning just like you.

You can learn together.

You're up on Mama's shoulders right now as Mummy lets Jordan loose off his leash at the edge of the forest.

"Got everything, squish?" She asks you," Because this is the last time we can go back to get something if you've forgotten it."

You shake your head. "Got everything, Mummy."

"Good girl."

Mama walks for a while before letting you down and instantly, you're hurrying up the path to catch up with Jordan.

"Squish!" Mummy calls out," Slow down, please."

"Okay, Mummy." You slow down and Jordan waits for you to catch up before walking by your side, bumping against you occasionally as his tail wags.

His snout goes down out of nowhere and he's running off the path like a shot. You follow after him and you can hear the thunderous steps of Frida and Emma behind you.

When they finally catch up to you both, you're gently placing truffles into your basket as Jordan wags his tail proudly.

"Good boy," Emma says to him," Who's a good boy? Is it you? Yeah! Of course it is!"

Frida crouches next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple now that she's found you safe. She knows you know your way around this forest like the back of your hand but seeing you off the path still scared her a little.

"Jordan found truffles," You tell Frida," He's the best boy!"

Frida laughs a little. "The best boy for the best little girl," She says warmly and your cheeks go a little pink at the praise.

"Squish," Emma calls you over," Why don't you show Mama about the tracking I taught you?" She points at a singular paw print in the mud. "Can you tell me what kind of animal that is?"

You study it.

It's got a big rear pad and five toes capped off with a long claw mark on each.

"Badger," You answer," We shouldn't go that way. Badgers are mean to dogs sometimes. We don't want Jordan getting hurt."

"Good girl," Emma says, laying a kiss to your head," Can you lead us to the thicket?"

The thicket is your favourite place in the forest. It's got lots of berry bushes perfect for baking into pies and making jam.

You could make your way there in your sleep and Jordan can too so you both take the lead as Mummy and Mama follow a few steps behind.

The thicket is full of ripe berries and the three of you get to work picking them all.

You stumble a little though, reaching for one of the high-up berries and Mama shrieks.

Frida hurries to pick you up, cradling you close even as your brow furrows in confusion.

"Mama?" You say," What's wrong?"

Frida doesn't have much time to calm her beating heart as she sets you down, pointing at the plant you nearly fell into. "That's a stinging nettle, Squish," She says," If you fall into it, it'll hurt a lot."

Your brows shoot up in fear. "Really, really bad?"

Frida knows she's exaggerating but she can't help it. She nods. "Really, really bad."

"And I'll hurt forever?!" You look at the plant in horror.

"Not quite," Emma steps forward to explain," This, here, is a dock leave. If you scrunch it up and put it on your stings it'll make it all better."

Frida nods along before grabbing another plant nearby. "And this is jewelweed. It works better than a dock leaf but it's a little harder to find."

"Dock leaf, jewelweed and stinging nettle," You repeat," Okay."

After that incident, Frida hovers near you for the rest of your berry picking and absolutely refuses to let you walk home so you spend the rest of the hike on her shoulders.

Emma helps you change into your apron when you get home and gives you the very important job of washing the blackberries while she grabs the pastry you made earlier.

"Mama!" You giggle as Frida flicks you with water before lifting you up to sit on the counter so you can pour the berries into the pie.

"What?" Frida teases," I didn't do anything?" She flicks you with water again and you shriek with laughter.

Emma watches you both fondly as she puts the pie into the oven to bake. "Alright, silly girls," She says," Pie is in. Hand washing now and then nap time."

You pout, bottom lip jutting out. "Stay up please, Mummy!"

"Yeah, Emma!" Frida agrees," Let us stay up!"

Emma laughs, kissing Frida softly before layering kisses all over your cheeks. "An hour nap while the pie bakes or my silly girls will turn into grumpy girls and we all know grumpy girls don't get pie after dinner."

That does it for you and you raise your arms up for someone to help you down.

"Nap time now!"