#one ill get annoyed enough and write something

[sarahreesbrennan]

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[jacqcrisis]

Every time i look through a fandoms explicit tag, most (usually over 90%, sometimes 100%) of the trans headcanoned stuff is 'what if the bottom kind of effeminate subby guy was trans and the masc dommy top guy was cis-'

But what I'm asking is what if the headcanoned dom top was trans and wrecked the headcanoned cis bottom dude's whole shit with phenomenal strap game? What about that? Where's that at? What if we played in that space for a while?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[taintedcigs]

even if it’s a false god — e.m.

part two; we'd still worship this love

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.

summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)

a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em

“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him. 

“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned. 

“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.

“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle. 

“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned. 

“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point. 

They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good. 

And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy. 

He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.

You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time. 

He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.

Just like you.

So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.

It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple. 

But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.

Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there. 

When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could. 

You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.  

You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl. 

It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment. 

But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen. 

Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect. 

“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.

“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible. 

“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips. 

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.

“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.

“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.

That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?

“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.

“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.

“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.

It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.

But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.

“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.

“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time. 

You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.

But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.

He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.

“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now. 

“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.

“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.  

He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.

He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties. 

He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible. 

“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged. 

“Don’t care, sweetheart.” 

“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this. 

He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch. 

Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying. 

He pulled back to look at you. 

Sweet Jesus.

His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips. 

You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.  

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now. 

“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you. 

Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.

“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me���” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned. 

And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. 

But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were. 

He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”

“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit. 

“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.” 

You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.

When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him. 

You were perfect. 

His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.

“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more. 

The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.

“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted. 

“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you. 

“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in. 

Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning. 

“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away. 

No. No. No. No!

“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again. 

His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow. 

“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good. 

You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred. 

God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.

“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige. 

Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size. 

It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.

“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”

You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever. 

He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.

He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.

You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.

The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.

And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him. 

“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction. 

“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips. 

It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.

He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours. 

Was it fucked up? Yes.

Did it feel good? Absolutely. 

“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.

This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.

You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction. 

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless. 

You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.” 

“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.

And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear. 

You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.

Don’t. 

You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever. 

“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.” 

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again. 

“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted.  “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore. 

And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed. 

“Shit, feels so good, Eds.” 

“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge, 

“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his. 

Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath. 

“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”

“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls. 

He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs. 

The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.

Was all of it worth it?

The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.

All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.

You were so fucking pathetic.

Jesus Christ.

You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?

As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.

You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.

Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—

“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.

Shit. Just shut the fuck up.

“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.

“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.

“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.

“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.

“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.

“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.

“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.

“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”

“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.

“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.

“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.

“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.

He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.

He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.

He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.

''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.

Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.

“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction

“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.” 

“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.

“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.

“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.

He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.

The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem. 

“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.

“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.

And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.

There was nothing he could do now.

“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.

Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.

You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.

[innerfare]

Law Relationship Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of random Law relationship headcanons.

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

If he meets someone he likes, he’s just going to ask them to join his crew because he literally has no idea how else to get close to you. Will struggle to broach the topic of liking you, too. Might kiss you on a late night in a dark hallway aboard the Polar Tang, but won’t have much to say about it, despite his heart hammering in his chest. If your first kiss isn’t aboard the Polar Tang, it will be somewhere else that’s dark and closed off so he feels comfortable. 

A lot of the things in your relationship will be unspoken, which can be annoying but he’s really not so good with words. When he does open his mouth, he keeps things short and sweet. Much more of a stolen kisses than whispered sweet nothings sort of guy. 

Victim of near insta-love, fell hard for you the very first time he saw you doing the morning crossword in the newspaper. Quickly became obsessed with the way you smirk victoriously to yourself when you figure out one of the words, even more obsessed with the way you flick him when he answers one for you. 

Started having nightmares not long after he met you, horrid dreams of you dying in gruesome ways, sometimes at the hands of the Donquixote family, other times at the hands of the World Government. Feels physically ill himself when you catch even a slight cold due to his past and the sheer number of people he knew who were taken from him. Tries to keep you out of danger to an almost comical degree, forcing you to sit down and have a conversation about it.  

Will happily answer to both Captain and Doctor and daddy.

If you have long hair, he keeps a hair tie or two on his wrist for you. Claims it’s just because you’re so annoying when you lose all of yours and complain incessantly about it. 

Lays in bed when you get out of the shower and watches you brush your hair. Actually got mad at you the first time he saw you brush your hair in a common space (before you two were an item) because it had such a strong effect on him and he didn’t know what to do; accused you of getting hair all over the place or something equally ridiculous; when you tell him Bepo sheds more than you, he starts grumbling under his breath and leaves the room. 

Writes you small notes on scraps of paper and folds them into origami- swans, rabbits, flowers, butterflies, you name it; he keeps a mental chart of your reaction to each shape and ranks them accordingly, saving the best ones for hard days. The notes aren’t anything particularly heartfelt or special, just small mundane things such as, “y/n-ah, don’t forget to take it easy today. You’re still injured,” or a book title and page number because he read something he thought you might find interesting. You’ve taken to using the origami notes as bookmarks, which makes his heart swell with pride and something else he knows deep down is love but is hesitant to name. 

He also made you a bouquet of origami flowers for you to keep on your nightstand since you complained there’s not enough light under the sea for you to keep a plant alive. Sometimes, he’ll make some new flowers to freshen up the bouquet (you have a box in your desk drawer where you stash the old ones). 

When you two are cooking, he gets a bit annoyed when you munch on some of the ingredients. He’s a ‘measure everything to 1/20 of a teaspoon and not a single pinch more or less’ sort of guy. He’s also a ‘no fries in the car before we get home and eat our burgers’ sort of guy. 

If he buys you gifts, it’s typically practical things, such as a new notebook because you said you needed one, or a better jacket so you don’t steal his on winter islands (you still steal his, it drives him insane because he can't stop blushing when you wear his clothes and he's trying to look intimidating). Also buys you books he thinks you’ll like, sometimes gets it wrong but you don’t tell him because it took him so long to open up and get comfortable and put himself out there and you don’t want to be discouraging for fear he’ll retreat back into his shell. Has also bought you a few dainty pieces of jewelry, expensive but not flashy. 

Is a hand holder, but he doesn’t do it in public. If you pass each other in the hallway, his fingers will always tangle with yours for just a quick second. When the two of you are alone, though, he wants your hand in his constantly. He’ll hold your hand while you’re both reading your books, hold your hand while falling asleep, etc. Sometimes, at meal times, he’ll hold your hand under the table, but that’s only on extra clingy days. (Clingy days are the good days for Law, his bad days being the ones when he retreats into his shell and falls asleep on the sofa in his office without eating.) 

Gives hand kisses. Will kiss each of your knuckles, will catch your hand when you pass him in the hallway and press a kiss into your palm, will climb into bed on a late night and place a few goodnight kisses on the back of your hand, will place his lips on your hand every time he gets it in his. Likes kissing up your wrist and arm before pulling you closer and kissing your neck. His kisses are always warm, btw, and not very messy. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[pygmi-cygni]

Writing tips: how do I add tension?

plenty of favorite tropes have tension. almost all of them. and, non-romantically, tension adds atmosphere. tension is the not knowing, the road block to the happy ending.

NOT TO DO:

don't make your characters stupid. don't dumb down their decisions to get them in 'difficult' situations. the audience will be bored and annoyed. (the audience is me. this is so irritating.)

don't make shit up. keep it consistent, don't throw something out of left field just for the sake of it. If the plot doesn't have enough material for tension, revise.

don't overdo it. tension is great at the penultimate moment, right before success. if you add tension at every point of conflict, readers will get bored and the story will be slow. put it every once in a while, not at every available opportunity.

GOOD CHOICES:

Push and Pull. give and take. let your characters win some and lose some. if they lose all the time, nobody wants to root for them. give them some strengths with their faults.

target strength and weakness. weaknesses are commonly targeted because duh, and it is a good chance for angst, but a really strong choice is targeting strength. the one thing they were good at and they couldn't even do that right? hooo boy.

unpredictable. if the reader can see it coming, it won't be as nail-biting. but as I said above, too unpredictable makes it campy and dumb.

last minute. Does it go well until the last minute? or is it a shit show until the final save? either are good choices, and have some pretty tense moments.

TECHNIQUE

POV. pov is suchhh a helping hand with tension. switch POVs right at the pivotal moment, keep the audience guessing. Unreliable narrators are great too, maybe peek into the villain's head for a bit.

don't be too descriptive. overexplaining ruins the tension. setting description vs character mindset is what i'm talking about. as the narrator/author, you can describe via exposition or external commentary what is actually going on, but the characters don't know. It's like in a horror movie, when the audience knows the killer is around the corner, but the MC is oblivious.

keep the stakes high! conflict builds until the ultimate plot point. so should the tension. maybe there's a secret or a secondary motive that is slowly coming to light.

it doesn't always have to be a huge plot point. The MC is hiding a terrible illness that will strike at the worst moment. One of the characters is secretly a spy and doesn't say anything until the end.

Hit 'em where it hurts! suprises are great. not crazy surprises, keep it consistent, but a holy shit! moment does terrible things to the blood pressure (which in this case is what you want)

hope this helps! xox

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

[toothfa-1-ry]

Little Miss Diggory

"Is that her?" You whisper as you lean towards the sandy haired boy who was slightly frowing

"Yea" cedric breathed out as he noticed Rita Skeeter and her abomination of a outfit

Your quote un quote bestfriend Cedric diggory was chosen as one of the contestants for the tri wizard competition which lead to being interviewd by a certain witch called Rita Skeeter who had a rather infamous reputation, not the good kind of course

"She seems" your lost for words as you look at her "interesting"

"She's bloody mad, completly lost her marbles" cedric rambles, obviously annoyed as he attempts to block you away from her vision. His light Irish accent suddenly flaring up which only happened when he was uncomfortable

The fact usually kind and sweet cedric diggory was calling someone mad, you knew that whatever you had heard of Rita skeeter before, she must have been worser than her rumours

"Don't make eye contact" he whispered

You nodd, quickly turning your head away but it's too late, Rita skeeter had locked eyes with you and a nasty grin forms on her face when she sees cedric with you

"Yoohoo! Cedric!" She cried out in a patronizing sing song voice as she approaches the both of you

You suddenly feel the urge to cling to your books and hide behind cedric

Cedric grimace before he turns around, putting on a forced awkward smile "Rita... I wish I could say it's a pleasure"

"Oh you naughty boy!" Rita's giggles in a high pitch tone "I'm back here again for another interview, a more casual one of course" she says as she ogles between you and cedric

Cedric notices and comes inbetween you and Rita "well shall we go somewhere else than?"

He seriously did not want Rita skeeter among all people to talk to you, God knows what she might write about you. It was already bad enough that Rita had written about him in such a patronizing way

"Oh no" Rita motions cedric to move away "I want to know, who this is" her eyes widen as he looks at you

Cedric inwardly groans, he whispers "I'm really sorry, i didn't want to get you into this"

You nodd, squeezing his arm which seemed to be the wrong thing to do as Rita Skeeter suddenly gasp and her pen begin writing something down

"Oh my your very pretty" Rita came closer to you, her manicured nails now rest on your shoulders "i bet Mr diggory here thinks your very pretty don't you?" She questions cedric

"I mean- well yes" cedric blurts out, his face rather pink with the suddenly confrontation "but I'm not sure why that's relevant right now"

"What about you sweetheart?" Rita questions you

"Cedric and I are good friends" you manage to mutter put before she cuts you in again

"Good friends? Bestfriends? Whats your name dearie?"

You give a confused look as you nodd slowly "im y/n uh l/n and-"

She cuts you off again

"Well do you fancy him? Is this a friends to lovers sort of thing? Ooh now that's something I like" Rita nodds excitedly as her feather pen moves even faster

You notice Cedrics red face with matched yours aswell "Oh i-"

But neither of you can butt in to say anything

"Tell me, how does it feel that your boyfriend" she points at cedric "is in the triwizard competition? Are you happy? Worried? Scared"

Your face goes bright pink "Oh cedric's not my..."

"Y/n and I are good friends" cedric manages to say from underneath the tint of red which clouded his face

"Oh pish posh!" Rita skeeter exclaims as she hit cedric with a pen which made you sneer slightly "you can tell me anything dear! Now tell me how did the both of you start dating?"

"We're not dating-"

"My my... your quite private aren't you" Rita raises her eyebrows as she purses her lips, obviously annoyed at the lack of intell "no worries, ill just have to make up an interesting story"

"Rita i think that's enough for today" Cedric announces, sensing your uncomfortablness

"Oh! But one last question! One last!"

Exasperated cedric sighs as you brace yourself for whatever the last question it may be

"If you had to rate your experience with your boyfriend" she wiggles her eyebrows "ehm.. how much would you rate him?"

Your face flushes a deep crimson, before you can even manage to squeak out a response cedric cuts it off

"Okay that's it" he grabs your hand and rushes off despite Rita Skeeter's protest

"Would you say that he's a good kisser miss y/n? If you don't answer I'm gonna take that as a yes" you could hear Rita skeeter bellow from down the hallway

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 6: playing with hair (Brahms)

you can find the prompt list here something something yap yap idk ill think of more to say when i actually get to writing this. unless i forget to edit this segment LMAO

notes: reader is gn, established relationship, reader replaces greta/takes her place in this fic

plot: You convince Brahms to take a bath and in the aftermath you're treated to finding out how soft his hair can be

word count: 357

cw: none

Against all the odds, you had managed to convince Brahms to take a bath. A proper one, mind you... and by the looks of it he didn't enjoy it one bit. You didn't expect him to seek you out so soon after washing up, and yet here he was shoving his face into your torso as he grumbled. No doubt he was annoyed that you had drawn a bath and didn't join him.

"Maybe next time," You mumbled as you pat your hand on the back of his shoulder, trying to will him to look at you. No dice. You turned over what could be done to pull him out of his mood in your head, your hands settling on his freshly dried hair. He pushed his head deeper into your palm, forcing you to take note of his soft curls. You knew he had them before, but they were...

You frowned for a moment.

You twirled his hair in your fingers for a moment before brushing the hair off of his forehead. As expected, he had his mask on. Not that you were surprised. Now that you had thought about it, Brahms only just recently started coming out of the walls a few weeks ago. You never noticed him leaving them to clean himself, so that does make you wonder...

"You know, if you cleaned up a little more..." You massaged his scalp. "We could do stuff like this more often.."

He glanced up at you. "Maybe if you let me I can even style your hair, if you want," You continued.

You were about to pull your hand away, only to find that he was forcing your hand back to his head. Firmly, but not enough to hurt.

"Not that I wouldn't before.. but doesn't this make you feel nicer?" You added as you went back to lightly fluffing his hair to help shake off of the remaining dampness.

A pause.

Then a nod.

A soft lighthearted huff as you trailed your fingers along his scalp.

You made it a mental note to make this a habit, though you doubted Brahms would let you forget your new post bath cuddling session.

[sunderwight]

SVSSS AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates as usual, except it's to find that his system is freaking out because it's been several years since Luo Binghe was supposed to show up at the sect trials to start his plot but so far there's been no sign of the protagonist, the Protagonist Halo Features aren't working correctly, and there's another transmigrator who arrived earlier, somehow hacked into the system, and erased its ability to track or punish him before disappearing into parts unknown (it was Airplane).

So Shen Yuan, now Shen Qingqiu, reasons that anyone who was trying to interfere with the plotline had either rescued or killed Luo Binghe while he was still young. Hoping for the former (but braced for the latter) he uses what scant knowledge the novel provided about Luo Binghe's origins, plus his new skills and some of the sect resources available, to track down Luo Binghe.

Turns out, in this version of events, some "random benefactor" showed up and gave Luo Binghe's mother some life-saving medicine. So she didn't die. But her health remained poor and Binghe never left her side, instead doing as much of her work as he was able to. So teenaged Binghe is basically a seemingly average, run-of-the-mill servant.

Shen Qingqiu is like "well this is pretty easy to fix actually" and approaches Luo Binghe as a wise immortal master type, says he sees Binghe's potential, and offers to take him on as a disciple. Luo Binghe is thrilled and kind of gobsmacked, but won't abandon his mother. Not a problem! Shen Qingqiu figured he wouldn't, so he offers to make arrangements to have Mama Luo comfortably set up in one of the villages at the base of the mountain. Sure, having her be alive and letting Binghe visit and write to her would be a deviation from the usual tragic backstory, but not a huge one! Shen Qingqiu is ready to mark this problem solved (and start dealing with all the other problems it creates for him) but the system is weirdly unsatisfied.

Turns out that even though Shen Qingqiu has found Luo Binghe (and a few discreet tests confirm that he has some sort of seal in place, and what are the odds of some other random orphan found on the Luo river, raised by a kindly-but-ill laundress, and named "Luo Binghe" exists in the same region?), the system still can't detect the Protagonist Halo Feature. The stupid glitching thing can't recognize the protagonist without it, so it keeps insisting that Shen Qingqiu locate him, even when he's kneeling right there and performing the tea ceremony for his initiation!

It's really annoying!

Especially since this means that the system won't actually safeguard Luo Binghe from harm. Which means it's up to Shen Qingqiu to make sure that his little white lotus disciple lives long enough to become the ruler of everything. This is easier said than done! Between the skinner demon side quest, and the demonic invasion, and various other side missions to build up the protagonist's potential, Luo Binghe is constantly getting into trouble and Shen Qingqiu keeps getting poisoned or injured trying to drag him back out of it in one piece!

Matters come to a head at the Immortal Alliance Conference (as they so often do). Shen Qingqiu is not planning to yeet Binghe, of course. Like this there's no guarantee of survival, and the system isn't even demanding it of him (because it still doesn't recognize the protagonist), but it seems to be demanding they turn up for the event anyway. Shen Qingqiu is a nervous wreck and fighting the urge to hover, because as expected, there is still a demonic invasion. Except this time Mobei Jun is there, and so is a mysterious cloaked figure who seems to be searching for something.

As soon as Shen Qingqiu claps eyes on the figure, the system chimes happily.

Protagonist Halo successfully located!

Turns out, part of Airplane's hacks involved stealing the halo and reassigning it to himself. Except that means that narrative destiny still wants him to hit certain plot beats, so he's been busily conquering the demonic realms -- in MBJ's name of course -- and mostly doing the bare minimum to satisfy the requirements while evading the system's efforts to regain contact. But now he's gotta go get Xin Mo somehow, except the minute Shen Qingqiu spots him so does the system.

The system, which immediately reassigns Airplane as the protagonist, and orders Shen Qingqiu to throw him into the Endless Abyss.

Which is like, better this rando than Binghe, so okay, but Mobei Jun is not cooperating plus the mysterious hooded stranger also seems pretty resistant to the idea (Airplane is NOT a heavenly demon, Protagonist Halo or no he's still actually a relatively squishy human cultivator, and he does not want to go into the hell pit), and between one thing and another Airplane manages to fall int the Abyss with Luo Binghe.

Not ideal. Which is to say, Shen Qingqiu is emotionally devastated and almost convinced that Luo Binghe has died for real and that Mysterious Halo Thief is going to come out somehow in a few years and chop off all his limbs, and Mobei Jun is extremely distressed because the man he intends to marry just fell into the Endless Abyss, and that seems like a difficult thing to somehow Evil Vizier your way out of.

The other peak lords arrive to keep Mobei Jun from killing Shen Qingqiu, and so everyone just kind of despairingly returns to their separate corners of the universe to wait and see what will happen.

Meanwhile, down in the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe has unlocked his heavenly demon blood and is now constantly trying to kill Airplane. But thanks to the transferred protagonist halo it just doesn't work. The system interferes and creates a last-minute unlikely survival route for Airplane every time. They eventually reach an impasse where Airplane can't die but only Luo Binghe is strong enough to actually fight most of the creatures in the Abyss, and all this "fighting" between the two of them (generous description) keeps attracting big monsters.

So, Airplane offers a deal. He knows things about this place. Including how to get out. If Luo Binghe helps him fend off the monsters, then he'll help Luo Binghe survive and escape as well. He even offers to help him get away from Shen Qingqiu and make a place for himself in the demon realms! Luo Binghe tries to kill him again for that, so he drops that line of attempted bribery really quick and switches tactics. He knows more things! Things about Shen Qingqiu's past! Secrets he'll share if Luo Binghe helps him!

Is this the start of a beautiful new friendship?

No.

Turns out Luo Binghe and Airplane have exactly the correct combination of shared traits and differences to find one another mostly intolerable. But not intolerable to the point of not being able to manage teeth-clenched teamwork. By the time they get out of the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe never wants to hear about cup noodles or tax collection or Mobei Jun's tits ever again, and Airplane feels much the same about anything at all to do with Shen Qingqiu (and either Shen Qingqiu is a fellow transmigrator now or else Luo Binghe has inserted a shockingly vivid delusion over the scum villain he wrote). But they're both alive and in joint custody of an evil sword.

Unfortunately, due to the bickering and the complexities of Shang Qinghua's sketchy memory for his own plots, it takes them even longer to get out of the Abyss than it took PIDW Luo Binghe to manage on his own.

And, uh. Well.

They don't find things in great shape, considering how they left them...

[sagucpuppet]

IM STILL ALIVE CHAT, I HAVE BEATEN THE FUNERAL ALLEGATIONS, AND I COME WITH A REQUEST ALONGSIDE MY BOUQUET OF ROSES...

please pleaes pealse write painter with reader who finds him in a bit of a mess, his wires and circuitry are all tangled and knotted (maybe a bit broken to add some extra seasoning) and reader sits with him and helps to fix and repair him (then they compliment him and tell him how good he was for them and how pretty he is mueheheehehhe)

i need flustered but vulnerable painter so bad chat, i love him to death :(

(also, sagucpuppet, i love you /p and your works, keep doing what you do and have a nice time, ill always be here to admire your works <33)

⟡　　˳︒　“nobody knows what i see!”　　₊　　⦂

⠀ℓ⠀⠀⠀⠀₊⠀⠀⠀���A/N : omg, anon your alive…thank you sm…wjendjwwjcnwhw ilyt!! /p <3333⠀⠀⠀⠀:

⠀𓏲⠀⌣⌣⠀⠀⠀extra : painter goes by he/him, reader is genderless, a bit of sebastian slander…and kinda implied painter trying to self destruct…and kinda cheesy..wndjjwjedjw, soooososoo sorry that this came out late…..couldn’t write cause of motivation but we back!!

𝞋𝞎 ; you were currently on your maybe…10th? run…you didn’t really count, you’ve been actually trying to get to the crystal. but so far you’ve been having no luck and always dying to something. and it doesn’t help that you’ve basically lost all of your items.. and they’ve disappeared..probably sebastian took them just for you to buy them back. what an asshole. you thought to yourself, your mind wandered a bit to your friend painter! you haven’t seen him in quite a bit. maybe you were too focused..on your run? you didn’t really know but you decided to visit him, urbanshade can wait can’t they? sure they can! not like that crystal totally depends on my life! you thought before opening the next door .

𝞋𝞎 ; the doors seemed ENDLESS. even though you’ve went through them a thousand times, you were kinda starting to get annoyed, you just wanted to see painter already…he always makes your runs better! sometimes the thought of him of is enough to get you motivated. or even enough to get you all giddy and happy inside. you two were very close even though you were kinda supposed to never even be friends in the first place, those words you were told by urbanshade..”nobody is your friend. you are expendable.” made you nervous. no. afraid. , you know that almost all of the monsters are NOT your friend, i mean literally all of the them tried to kill you, you don’t even wanna count sebastian as a “friend” he’s far from being your friend ever..but anyway…focusing on your friend painter.. you should be reaching heavy containment soon..hopefully he’s okay.

𝞋𝞎 ; after finally reaching heavy containment and going through the absolute terrorizing screams of the anglers, you basically sighed of relief once you saw the two metal doors and a purple keycard reader, you quickly searched found the purple keycard and scanned it, the two metal doors opening in an instant. surprising you a little, but quickly blinking and making your way into the next room, you searched and it was nothing interesting, same with the others but quickly seeing that one server room you know and love. you quickly made your way to the metal door, skipping past a few steps and the door opened.

𝞋𝞎 ; you peaked into the room, you saw painter but he looked sad..? you also realized that all of his wires from the back were all a jumbled mess, making a noticeable mess on the ground, and it was like his screen was glitching, you quickly stepped inside, painter seemed motionless for a moment, maybe he didn’t notice you…? but his eyes darted up meeting yours. his expression changed to a happy one “reader! you’re b-BACK.” he said his voice cutting out quite a bit.. his face had a big grin on it, you quickly said “Jesus painter..what the hell even happened to you!?” you said as you quickly made your way over to him, running your hands over his metal covers of the computer he was withheld in, he said “I-d..rRather..not..get into the details….” his face expression dropped with sadness, he looked at you. you had a hurt look in your eyes. you couldn’t bare seeing your friend painter in pain, you said “it’s alright painter, how about this? i’ll fix you up and while i do that we can talk for a bit, alright?” you said with a smile. painters face modded in a up down motion, signaling a yes.

𝞋𝞎 ; you quickly pulled over a random chair with your foot, and sitting down in front of painter, you gently pulled some of his wires from the back and starting untangling them, one by one. painter spoke up suddenly his eyes darting around the room “i’m sorry…for making you..do all of this…” you shook your head, and said “hey..it’s fine painter, i’m always open to helping a friend.” painters eyes stopped darting around, he looked at you with a kinda apologetic expression along with a relaxed smile. you managed to get the left side of his wires untangled, you did a quick check making sure none were out of place and not damaged in any way. while you were kinda close up to his screen, he seemed a bit flustered, he looked like an idiot in love, he’s never been exactly soft around humans like you, but..but..you’re different in his eyes, you’ve never mistreated him once. you were always kind and patient with him no matter the situation, even when he was required to stop you from getting the crystal, it was like…wait..why am i feeling a little bit warmer..? im not overheating am i..? he thought in his mind, but it quickly wandered back to you, wait. am i in love with them!?…

𝞋𝞎 ; he quickly looked back at you, in your own world fixing his other wires and cleaning off his circuits, why did it hurt to look at you..in a way..? why did it feel like he was overheating..? , blush appeared on his screen in an instant, it was just like..just the way they smiled..was..cute..wait what..?? get it together painter! he internally screamed at himself, he quickly went back to reality, and you spoke “you’ve been awfully quiet..you doing alright..painter?” you asked a bit worried at his sudden loss for being chatty like always, he blinked and looked at you, “yeah..i’m fine…just..TtHinking..” his voice glitched a little bit again, you nodded and smiled “not thinking of me are you?” painters eyes darted to you, a flustered look on his screen he quickly said “n-no! buzz off reader!” he looked away in an instant, you laughed a bit “just teasing.” you said playfully, as you finished with the last tangled wire in the back, you rised up for the chair, you said “okay..i wanna fix the glitching in your system, i think i saw some spare tools around the room..” painter stared at you as you walked away but spoke “i’m…not gonna..die am i?” painter said bluntly in a worried kinda tone. you quickly turned around and said “oh- no! of course not! it’s probably just a little bug in your system. nothing to get worried about!” you said as you rummaged through a few boxes for tools.

𝞋𝞎 ; painter was still a bit worried, but eased up a bit. his mind wandered a bit, but before you gently placed a bunch of tools beside him, you picked up two of the tools and said, “ okay- i’m gonna just gonna fix some of the circuits and other things in your system. you can stay awake for the process.” you said as you patted the top of his computer head, you then started to do your own thing, painter on the other hand was very flustered, no one was ever this close, especially you…in particular. he never was THIS…vulnerable..but somehow he can always let his guard down around you, it was like he knew he was safe with you. he smiled widely just at the thought of you. he realized you were finished tinkering with his circuits, you sighed as you pulled away from him and step back admiring your work in a way, you spoke “i don’t have any knowledge about robotics or basically anything but hopefully that fixed the whole glitching problem.” you said with a smile.

𝞋𝞎 ; “how do you feel?” you asked painter, the ai quickly snapped outta his thoughts, and spoke “oh-um-..a lot better..” he said, he felt brand new honestly. you nodded and said “okay, that seems to fix the problem..” you said happily, “you did great painter.” , you patted the outer layer of the computer gently. you spoke again “you’re so pretty, you know that right?” painter looked up at you flustered and saying “w—whatever!” he tried to seem annoyed but that quickly faltered. he knew that he couldn’t stay mad at you, never. you laughed at his sudden attempt at being tough, you spoke up “i mean..” you trailed off a bit from your sentence, “you’re perfect in every way, what isn’t there to like about you painter?, after all you were so good..” as soon as painter heard your sentence he was unresponsive for a second then he yelled “OH BUZZ OFF READER!!” with a flushed face showing on his screen. you laughed in response.

A/n : andndnejejendenhe YEAHHH ITS FINISHEDDDD

[winstonsns]

Could you do the gangs types? 🙏

(Love your writing btw!!)

the gang and their types (request)

authors note: thank youu, i’m happy you like my writing! sorry it’s short, ill try and make the next request longer 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 1.1k

warnings: cussing

PONYBOY CURTIS

pony likes someone who can both yap and listen, he enjoys hearing you talk about things and how you get excited and smile, but he also loves talking to you and ranting, he appreciates someone who can listen to when he gets really excited over small things or in general

one of the first things he looks for in a person is their intelligence, if one is smarter than the other then he wouldn’t want to feel stupid or you to feel bad that you’re not as smart as him

he prefers studying together if the both of you are at the same level and classes in school

that way the two of you can have in depth conversations that he can’t have with others because they don’t know as much as he does

JOHNNY CADE

he always felt like he needed emotional support so if you can provide that for him, he’s all over you

along with someone who shows affection in public and isn’t ashamed, whether it’s complimenting him, hugging him or giving him gifts

johnny extremely values people who are loyal to him, someone who won’t leave at the first sense of danger or sadness, instead tries to work out the problem and continue communicating

he gets nervous when confrontation is involved, but communicating lets him know you care and love him, because if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t talk to him about whatever’s bothering you

johnny loves someone who is respectful of boundaries, he never really knew how to make his own because he never had them in the first place, his parents didn’t care enough to restrict him from doing anything

so if you notice he’s uncomfortable with something you’re or someone else is doing, you’ll stop or tell them to stop and he’ll love you even more

SODAPOP CURTIS

soda likes people who are good listeners and pick up on little details, like an observer

he just wants people to realize that he has problems too and wants to be listened to, someone who will check up on him randomly or if he looks sad

if you’re a naturally encouraging and grateful person, basically a bubbly happy person, then you have a huge chance that he’ll like you

he tries to be around people who make life a lot easier and happier, someone who gives him something to look forward to the next day and a reason to keep living

soda isn’t that picky about his type and values personality way more than looks

he loves someone who is upbeat, he doesn’t care if someone gets annoyed because he loves being around you

DARRY CURTIS

darry loves someone who is very patient, he can get very occupied sometimes because of work and basically raising his brothers, so it’s very time consuming and he’d love it if his partner is patient

also if you help him out with pony and soda, like buying groceries or making them food or simply taking them places, although he’ll feel bad that he’s not doing the work, he’ll appreciate whatever you do for him or his siblings

he likes it if you cherish the time you and him have together because it’s so little, so quality time is very important to him

whenever the two of you have time, the both of you will try to work something out that the both of you like, so if you’re good at compromising then he likes that

that way the two of you can do what you want but together

DALLAS WINSTON

he really appreciates someone who can stand up for themselves, basically an assertive person who isn’t afraid to express what they want and stuff

dally makes a lot of mistakes so he wants someone who is forgiving, he can get frustrated though if you don’t forgive him immediately

but he hates apologizing first and sees it as a weakness, he learns his lesson after you don’t talk to him for a few days, he struggles to say sorry but he gets it across

if you’re brutally honest like him, he will fucking love you, the two of you might disagree on things but you hardly ever lie to each other

if you say something like, “that was a bit rude, dal, not his fault that you didn’t like the milkshake.” so he’ll sigh and roll his eyes, apologizing to you and saying he’ll try not to do it again

he obviously does it again but tries not to do that type of stuff around you, he doesn’t want you to be upset at him or with yourself for not doing anything

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

keith loves someone who has the same sense of humor as him, if he tells a joke or insults someone and you come up with something funnier or more insulting, he’s head over heels

another thing he really loves is someone who’s good with kids, like they get along and can take care of kids

especially if the kids go out of their way to see you and they can tell you have a good heart, he loves that

same goes with animals, like they have a sense of intuition whether or not some is a safe person to be around, so if animals go to you then they feel safe

STEVE RANDLE

he likes someone who is respectful of others, specifically boundaries and is very careful not to cross them

also someone who sees the good and bad side of everything, if you try to see others perspectives then he’ll really appreciate it

that way he knows you’re caring of not only yourself and your friends, but people you don’t know either

he loves it if someone is protective of him but not to the point where he can’t do anything on his own, he can handle himself very well and you both know that, but if you’re protective then he knows you’d do a lot to keep him safe

authors note: pretty sure i have three full days left of school. i’m excited to write more yayyy!! sorry if you requested something and i haven’t answered it yet, i answer in order of who requested first. sorry this took a while!!

[auspicioustidings]

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

[goldenempyrean]

Hello, would you mind writing a fic with Sicknat x reader on a mission? with phrases like: “I'm never sick” “it's just a little tired” “it's all Tony's fault. I will kill him” “take care of yourself” ?

Caring For A Widow

〚 Notes - Jeez, this request is old! I’m gonna try and get through some of my old ones over the next week :D I thought I'd start with this as I haven't written my fav redhead in a while! :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha let's you take care of her when a mission goes sideways. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1044 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“I swear I’m gonna kill Tony.” Came the annoyed grumble from the redhead leaning against your chest, “This is his fault.” She sniffled, rubbing her nose roughly against the sleeve of her hoodie, rolling her eyes when you chided her for not using a tissue instead. 

To be fair to her though, this wasn’t exactly the best of situations. You were both huddled in a tiny safe house in the middle of nowhere, having just narrowly escaped an ambush during your mission and to make things worse, Nat wasn’t feeling great. 

She’d mentioned it in passing a few days ago that her throat had hurt but it had been such a busy few days you hadn’t thought to check up on her. Of course, she hadn’t told you when it had gotten worse, she was Natasha after all - as stoic as ever. But now she was here, miserably ill in a cold, unfamiliar house just longing to be back home. 

“I’m never sick,” Nat mumbled solemnly, though her congested voice and the deepening circles under her eyes betrayed her. She curled tighter against you, seeking warmth in the drafty safe house. 

“I know, I know,” You replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her clammy forehead. “Your timing sucks.”  

She lifted her head just enough to shoot you a look but with the way she was cuddled against you, it held no malice behind it. “Have you told the team we need extraction already?” Nat changed the subject and pushed herself up a little to peer at the laptop which you’d been quietly working on as it sat on your knees. 

You nodded, tilting the screen down so she could see it properly, “They know. Steve wants to be cautious of using air space since they clearly knew we were coming so he’s organising us a car instead.” The redhead stifled a yawn as you explained and you paused to lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, “It’ll be a few hours before it arrives, so we’ve just got to camp out here for a bit.” 

Natasha shivered against you a little, pulling her hoodie a little closer to her. “You can't shake those chills can you baby?” 

“No.” She mumbled thickly, unable to hold back a second shiver. 

She turned away to muffle a rough cough into her arm and you gave a sympathetic pout in return before having an idea, “Alright, stay put," You instructed gently, pressing a comforting kiss to her temple before carefully slipping out from beneath her. 

You knew that she needed something to soothe that throat of hers, so what better than tea. The kitchen of the safe house was sparse, but you smiled to yourself as you managed to find a small kettle and some basic supplies. This’ll do. 

You filled the kettle and set it to boil, whilst it began to heat up, you returned to Nat's side. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you into a hot bath," You said gently, offering her a hand to stand up. 

The redhead hesitated, clearly not wanting to move from her spot. It was strange to see her so lethargic, “A bath?" She echoed, her voice hoarse and congested. 

“Mhm.” Your hum of agreement was followed by small smile, “You like taking baths when you’re not feeling well.” She couldn’t argue with that, instead sniffled quietly before pushing her knuckles up to the underside of her nose before stifling a sharp sneeze. 

“It’ll help clear up some of that congestion too.” You added when she groaned quietly to herself, sniffling at her red nose again. The safe house was small, that couldn’t be argued but at least this one was relatively modern meaning luckily for you two, the hot water was actually hot instead of barely lukewarm as many of the other houses had. 

It didn’t take long to run. Once the bath was ready, you helped her ease into the tub. Natasha murmured a grateful “Thank you” and let out a small sigh as the warm water seemed to relieve the tension in her shoulders and muscles. 

While she soaked, you returned to the tiny kitchen area, preparing the tea. You found some honey and added a generous spoonful, knowing it would soothe her sore throat. As the tea steeped, you went back to check on her. 

"How are you feeling?" you asked, leaning against the old, wooden doorframe. 

Natasha had her eyes closed, the steam from the bath working wonders on her congestion. "Better," she admitted, her voice already sounding a touch clearer. "Thank you." 

“Don’t fall asleep in there, let me know if you need anything, okay?” You smiled and left her to relax for a while longer, returning to pour the tea into a mug. You knew Nat appreciated everything you were doing to take care of her, but you also knew how important it was for her to decompress alone for a little.  

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel with damp hair clinging to her neck, you were waiting with the warm drink in hand. 

She accepted the mug gratefully, taking a careful sip. "This is nice," she murmured, her voice softening a little as her sleepy eyes blinked to keep herself focused. You knew the residual heat from the bath and the tea were probably making her tired. 

"Good," You smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her back to the makeshift bed. "Now, let's get you wrapped up in some blankets and you can nap until extraction gets here.” 

It seemed she was too tired to argue about napping (she usually would make a fuss about wanting to be on alert just incase) and instead, she allowed you to tend to her a little as you tucked her in. Natasha settled against the pillows; the tea cradled in her hands. You sat beside her, one hand gently stroking her damp hair. 

"I still want to kill Tony," She mumbled sleepily, though there was no real bite in her words, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep against you. 

You chuckled softly, kissing her forehead once more, “We'll save that for when you're feeling better." 

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[creampz]

⋆ ★ RULES.

#★vegasbaby. is my personal tag for all my work(s). sometimes i don’t update my mlists right away, but any time i post you’ll see things under that specific tag. (fics, hc's, etc..)

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i write requests on my own time and when i feel like it! currently, they’re open. thirsts like these take me quicker to write. please be patient because i try to answer everyone <3

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keep in mind, i’m only one person running this entire blog and it’s very hard to monitor constantly. if i don’t get to your ask(s), i apologize :’). i love talking to you guys!sometimes when im away ill run on queue

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⋆ ★ WRITING.

before sending a thirst/req, please read the kinks im not comfortable with writing (scroll to see) — if you ask for a kink + trope, etc. i stated i won’t write, it’ll be deleted.

please keep your request/ask a few sentences short, not an entire essay. i’ll elaborate however i see fit. HOWEVER, i’ll make an exception if you have a fic idea you’d like to see me write. ex: “hi vegas! what do you think about … (specific au / character)” if it gets me motivated enough, chances are i’ll write it

info list of things i won’t write: stepcest & incest, pseudo-cest, scat, dub + noncon, pregnant s*x, kidnapping, peeing / piss kink, period s*x, somnophilia, ddlg, age regression, fisting, yandere, race play, vore, vomit, feet kinks, sacrilege (ex. priest! character), high school au's (teacher x student is a hard no: only exception—professor / college aus) free use, g4ngbangs, gl0ryholes, etc. (if i get asked asking for any of these kinks / tropes i will delete them.)

no, i don’t write for mahito.

again because this is a frequent question lol, i do not write smut for underage characters (megumi, yuuji, yuuta, maki, etc) please don’t ask me to age them up either !!

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if you have any questions about a kink, a req, etc. just ask me !!

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[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

I'm really sick and Satan's sacrificial waterfall is here AT THE SAME TIME!

I don't know if you do blurbs or headcannons, but if so, would you be willing to write for the boys (either taskforce 141, or singular characters,) taking care of an afab reader who has never had anyone wanting to take care of them?

If not, sorry to bother!

I don't typically take requests but... since I'm in the same boat (sacrificial waterfall is probably going to come over the weekend for me), I'll 100% do it.

A while back I also posted this: "You're feeling ill" and it's also along the same vein, if you'd like an extra little pick me up.

Period woes.

Rating: G Words: 1K~ tags: afab!reader but you/your pronouns, SFW!, fluff, comfort, periods and associated symptoms.

A person’s period might be the most hypocritical moment of their routine. They’re expected to continue moving, working and living their live as normal, all with a smile on their face, while their uterus actively attempts to cut off its own circulation… as if for any other injury or sickness you wouldn’t be expected to lay down and STOP for a moment and allow yourself to heal up, or at least improve enough to not be miserable.

But no. You’re expected to deal with it alone, to not show a reaction, to not be irritable, or groaning and writhing in pain. Take a shower, stock up on painkillers and slap a smile on your face, you’ve gotta go out in the world and act as if you’re not actively dreading every waking moment you spend on your feet.

That’s why you’ve learned to hide it when you’re going through your monthly. Your family, partners… not even your girlfriends know when you’re having it. Ever since you were a young teen, just starting out, it was very much a conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, sort of moment.

But it’s miserable. You’re always miserable. Everything hurts, the cramps, the headaches, the back pain, hip pain, your sore chest… Plus the blood, the lack of appetite (or increase in appetite), the nausea, the fact you want to cry one moment, or break dishes and scream the next, the way your colleagues annoy you beyond compare, how certain sounds grit your nerves just. enough. to make you feel like you’re losing it… And then you can’t sleep.

And of course… he notices it. How could he not?

Ghost is discreet about it. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t make a big deal about it… But he’s VERY good at taking care of you without you noticing he’s doing it. His love language is acts of service… So he simply goes around giving you a hand on whatever you might need. Food? Made. Dishes? Done. Laundry? Washed, Dried, Folded and Put Away. He finds you trying to do something? No. Give it here, he’ll do it.

The inevitable day that a leak happens and you find yourself angry at yourself as you strip the bedsheets off the bed, trying to be discreet about it so he doesn’t see it, he silently grabs the sheets off your hands and murmurs a “Go take a shower and change. I’ve got this.” before turning to put the sheets in the washer, clean the mattress and remake the bed so you can lay down again by the time your shower is over. It makes you emotional, sometimes, that such a stoic man will gladly take on every other responsibility to allow you to heal.

Gaz, blessed be him, is an absolute sweetheart… But he’s also a silly boy. He notices and although he’s not going to make a big deal about it, he’s still very… Boyish about it. Uses all the silly names for your period (“The Communists are coming”, “Shark week”,  “Satan’s waterfall”, “Carrie”) and affectionately calls you “My little ketchup packet”. 

He’s all for ordering takeout and getting you whatever you want when and how you want it. He’ll rub your back and be very careful about where and how he touches you. He’s ginger with touches around your waist and lower stomach, looks at you with those big brown eyes of his, as if checking that he’s not hurting you or crossing a boundary. You find yourself getting emotional when he whispers about how strong you are to deal with this every month… Keeps asking gently if you need anything… It makes you feel so safe.

Price’s older. He’s been in many relationships before. He notices your period is coming before it even does… Notices how you’re acting. Jumpier, grumpier, sadder… Notices how you toss and turn the couple of nights leading up to it. And he’s silently prepared. He’s made a supply run to the grocery store to get what brand of period products you use and some painkillers and puts them where you can see them in the bathroom. 

Fills you up with warm herbal tea and food that he knows are easy to digest and help with your state. No fucking chocolate and sugar or potato chips, you’re being pumped full of soups and stews and veggies and cut up fruit. He’ll sit by your side with a paring knife and an apple and slowly peel, core and cut it, before slowly feeding you (and himself) the slices. When you try to resist it, at first, too used to doing things alone, he’ll grab your face with both hands, look into your eyes and tell you. “And why exactly would I let you do that, when you’ve got me here to help you? How does that make sense?”

Soap’s… Well… Soap’s got a bunch of sisters… Each of them dealing with their periods in wildly different ways... So one thing he knows for sure: He’s not about to assume anything. You do what you’ve got to, he’ll adjust to you. He needs to go to the bathroom but you’re in there? Copy that, he’ll go piss in the yard. You’re having a cry in the kitchen because nothing looks good but you’re hungry? Talk it out with him, what do you want to eat? Let’s figure it out together, bonnie. You need to lie down in a dark room because of a migraine or headache or just to catch on sleep you’ve missed? Johnny’s blacked out every window, gathered every stray pillow and blanket in the house and will make you a nest if he’s got to.

And when you wake up in the middle of the night with a whine and a stretch because your back hurts and you’ve got cramps and cannot for the life of you get comfortable, Johnny’s hands are rubbing over you, pressing kisses to your temple and murmuring little “I ken, love… It’ll be over soon… I’m sorry you’re going through this…”