#ooc: I barely have the energy to make this post

[thatoneguy031]

Cheesecake's still on his grind, so he's away from his laptop right now. Might as well use this time to talk to you guys, right?

If I have to be honest, I'm... worried, about this whole thing. Poor dude barely has an understanding of what he can do, and he wants to explore the world? I don't want to slow his roll, but for his sake and mine, I think he has to.

Like. Koops brought up a good point, a while back. It's a frickin' miracle that we caught this stupid darkness taurosshit when we did. Especially since there's a chance that Cheesecake can just like... "lose himself" apparently. He's going to do something brain-dead, attack us because it possessed him or whatever's gonna happen, and...

[Cherry let out a shuddering sigh.]

He's going to hurt himself. We can't really afford that if we're leaving in such short time... But he's been so uptight lately. He hasn't given himself a real break in a WHILE, and he's on par with Blizzard Breath's lack of sleep. Hell, he's hacking at a tree like a lumberjack as I'm saying this-

Hydrill, ONE MORE TIME!

[Cherry jumped, hearing a Samurott-sized body tackle something in the distance with a loud thud, followed by a splash and a crashing sound.]

Rrrrgh! C'mon, me! That's not good enough! Nothing's ever going to get done if you stay scared of taking a little bit of damage! Suck it up and go full-force next time!

...Was. Was hacking at a tree.

But THAT'S my problem.

He's so focused on his training that he's not really realize that he's hurting himself. He doesn't care about hurting himself, rather. I hate to sound like a weeb, but he's got to stop this at some point! Bro nearly dislocated his shoulder last week because of this same thing!

I know I said I'd wait till we got to Sinnoh to do those contests, but like...

At what point do I step in?

[rehmes]

Nothing Solitary about Us : ⋆༘ Wriothesley / reader | headcannons . oneshot

‗ content / trigger warning: bigger story / reader background not fully mentioned, reader is a refugee, Wriothesley swooning (in his own way), thoughts of self doubt, fluff/angst?? Like a weird mixture of the two, not beta read, we die like Wriothesley's adoptive parents. ‗word count: 4k ‗ author's note: If you saw when I accidentally posted this the first time . . . no you didn't! Apologies if it's ooc, a little long, or has errors in spelling. English isn't my first language and this is the first time I've written for Wriothesley! Any suggestions to improve will be much appreciated! :D

Wriothesley could still remember the day he saw you, the day that you had come into the Fortress after, purposefully, committing a crime to gain some sort of refugee status; Why you thought to come to a prison, of all places, to receive such a thing baffled him the most. And it had baffled him for the longest time until you had told him why:

You and The Duke first met when The Duke wasn’t even The Duke; Meeting as cellmates in the Fortress, having been put in the same age group for practically everything that the Fortress had to offer at that time. Which wasn't a lot, and with Wrothesley’s lack of enthusiasm to even look in your direction, it made everything a lot more insufferable. But, Wriothesley didn’t know that; He was just intent on staying out of your way and not causing any more trouble for himself. Likewise, the thought of making friends with you did creep into his mind but so did the doubts that you might hate him after you figured out why he was sentenced here. So, it took a lot for Wriothesley and you to actually begin talking, despite being paired for a lot of the backbreaking activities. And, Wriothesley does still remember that day, too: It was after a tiring shift, where you were both thoroughly whipped out and about to crash at the dinner tables. You both had used coupons to buy food, and didn’t even have the energy to sit at different tables, muchless to open the containers containing your dinner. It felt as though every muscle in your bodies had been torn, limb from limb, muscle from tissue and bone, it was excruciating… and you were about sure you could appeal to the Iudex about this being considered some sort of child labor. Maybe even murder if they kept pushing you both like this. Luckily, you guessed, Wriothesley looked a little better in shape than you did, but he was not far lagging behind. With shaking hands he reached out to open his dinner for the night, to only pause and stare down in horror at what was on his tray. It made you nervous to even peek into yours, seeing the way Wriothesley’s face contorted; A corner of his left eye tightening, his eyebrows furrowing down to create visible creases along his forehead, and a scowl you’ve only ever seen when someone bothered him. A look of pure disgust.

Yet, you still checked yours away. You didn’t know that Wriothesley had glanced up to see if you had gotten the same horror as he did, and by some god awful prank (or pure disluck) you also had the conglomeration on your plate. Some weird, mysterious meat that sat on the plate, sometimes twitching like it was still mooing, sometimes resting as meat should rest. Equally unappetizing and making your hunger even more apparent, as you were tempted to taste the horrific creation that came out of that unsanitized kitchen. “You know,” Your voice caught Wriothesley's attention, as his had drifted down to the plate of food in front of him. His eyes shot up and barely met yours, “it could be worse?” You shrugged your shoulders in a joking way, giving Wriothesley an awkward look paired with an even awkwarder smile. He was a bit baffled at your conclusion, “It could be worse?” He questioned, calm and steady, confused and a bit curious on where you were going to go with such a statement.

In his fatigue, he had broken the one rule he had set for himself in this place; Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make yourself known, don’t make any friends. In his fatigue he didn’t believe answering you would be so wrong nor did he believe that you two would ever speak again after his point, so why not entertain you… and himself.

“At least they didn’t puke on our plate?” The joke fell from your lips with the weakest chuckle you could muster. Your eyes drooped and the pain was evident in the way your eyes shined ever so less than normal. Wriothesley was about to respond, yet you managed to get at it before him; “You know, where I came from, if you didn’t have a fire you had to eat your fish cold! Like, ice cold. And there was nothing you could do about it… other descale the thing and pray you didn’t just eat your last meal.” “Is that right?” Wriothesley cocked an eyebrow up, unsure where you had come from yet didn’t enjoy the images that came into his head. Well, one was particularly funny and it was the thought of you trying to bite into a frozen fish and hurting your teeth. Not like he wanted that to happen, maybe. “Well, don’t give the kitchen staff any ideas or maybe they’ll just import that from your weird homeland.” It had been a while since Wriothesley had laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly alongside you. The conversation was a ridiculous one, especially when first conversations usually went along the lines of introducing yourselves to each other. Yet, oddly to Wriothesley, it felt about right. And from that day, Wriothesley was sure he didn’t know of a day where he didn’t talk to you. Even if it started with a small greeting in the hallway or pointers on how to do a job more efficiently, small conversation gradually turned into the two of you chatting for hours eating lunch or dinner and even trying to talk after lights out. It finally felt like you had escaped your past and had a friend in a place you named your refuge, and Wriothesley finally felt like he had met someone (though this feeling was slow and gradually coming) that would accept him, despite his past doings.

Wriothesley interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the table, and nestled his chin on the finger net he had made. His eyes were softer than usual, yet that piercing blue. Back then, when you two had simply been inmates trying to work out your frustration and struggles with the world; Now, you laid on the couch in Wriothesley’s office in the fortress, with his coat draped over you like a blanket, napping. From outside eyes, you both would look like the perfect couple, yet he hadn’t even managed to ask you the question yet; But, he had an inkling you understood, just as he did, how he felt about you. Otherwise, Wriothesley couldn’t fathom why you decide to spend your nights in his office, keeping him company, when you could be in the nurse wing with Sigewinne or doing “orderly duties” for the fortress above on the surface. It made a small smile twitch onto his lips seeing you, you always managed to do that; But, it also bubbled the age old question in his mind . . . is this life good enough for you? Wriothesley is usually a calm man, a collected one, who didn’t often question why people came to the Fortress and simply gave them a second chance at peace – well, more frankly, at life. He understood how such a thing could quell the anger that simmered in convicts and made it his life work to make sure everyone was treated as fairly as they worked for. Yet, you? You were a different question. He still wasn’t sure why you had come to the Fortress in the first place, yet had deduced from several conversations you came from the Snezhnaya. Sure, he could go into the room lined with file drawers with the reasons why convicts had been placed into captivity, but that room was one, far too crowded for his taste, and two, he didn’t wish on peaking into your personal life. At least, without your permission. 

Yet, still, the thought always crossed him on why you were here – by choice! Not that you walked in and checked yourself in, yet you committed many crimes to be noticed in Fontaine, trailed in court, then admitted to your crimes to be placed into the Fortress. The thought of doing such a thing made him cross his arms and lean back in the chair, his eyes more settled on your sleeping form and the way his jacket hugged the curves of your body. You always looked so happy on the surface, to see the sky and breathe the fresh air. Wriothesley wouldn’t want to keep you trapped in the Fortress. “I’ve never seen you so pensive before, Duke!” A voice suddenly appeared besides Wriothesley, causing him to jerk out of his train of thought. He sat up straight, a little suddenly, as he quickly turned to notice the all too familiar nurse of the Fortress: Sigewinne. The Duke played off his thoughts with a chuckle, “Ah, yes, well, I was thinking about something, Sigewinne.” He would half-heartedly joke, as the nurse gave him an all too unamused look. ‘No shit’, was what he was sure she was telling him in her head, but he only responded with a cool snicker. “Well, the tea you ordered from Liyue arrived at the Fortress and I came wondering if you wanted some,” The offer hung in the air, and Wriothesley knew the nurse would tag on a remark. “But it seems like you may need to talk out some problems.” She wasn’t an expert on human emotions, but she was better than spilling his mind to an inmate, Wriothesley guessed… or maybe even you. A pensive hum left the Duke’s lips as Sigewinne walked over, a hop away from skipping, and settled her tray with tea onto his desk. Promptly, she would nestle herself properly into a chair on the other side of Wriothesley’s desk, hands resting over her stomach and a pleased smile on her face.

“Go on, Wriothesley! I’m open ears.” Chimed the Nurse. Though only playful sarcasm came from the Duke as he poured himself a cup of tea, “Hmm, talking about my emotions? That seems like such a fun topic.” He knew it was needed, if not wanted. Even more so when Sigewinne didn’t seem too pleased with his half-hearted answer; As she pouted her lips and let out an extensive huff; “As the nurse, I care for everyone in the Fortress and that includes you too, Duke! Please, don’t make my job any harder than it needs to be.” There was an earnest tone in her voice, and Wriothesley knew she was getting better in her studies.

Even more so when she shook her head after his moments of silence, “Your eyebrows are frowned and your eyes rest everywhere but me or,” Wriothesley’s eyes drifted to you when Sigewinne pointed you out. You had shifted in your sleep, now laying on your back. You were peaceful; It made his eyes soften. He remembered when you used to have trouble sleeping by yourself, never feeling safe enough… Now you were sleeping like nothing in the world could ever hurt you. Like those fears of the past were nothing but fears. And they were; Wriothesley will make sure of it.

Sigewinne’s eyes had drifted off to you too. She was silent as she surveyed the way you slept and then the way Wriothesley lingered his attention on you. “You’re still debating whether or not to tell her, huh?” “And where did you hear that?” There’s the cheeky Sigewinne that Wriothesley knew. Of course, he knew her more caring side as the Nurse but he had a hunch that she also knew about why he had been so “thoughtful” – to put it colorfully. Though Sigewinne would shake her head and smile, “You’re very obvious sometimes! I think even Miss Clorinde knows!” That wouldn’t be good. Not at all. “Does she now?” But Wriothesley had to remain cool, collected. Now, it wasn’t that Wriothesley was embarrassed for others to know of his crush on you – well, by this point, it’s lasted so long he was sure he could dub it love, but better safe than sorry if you didn’t return his feelings – but he was simply cautious about other inmates knowing. After all, you were still technically one of them, an inmate. Your sentencing had been for about three years, maybe four, but you never left. You had chosen to stay since the first day you came, technically giving you a life sentence on your own will. So, if the other inmates know about the two of you – or well Writoehsley’s feelings – it could put your life in danger. There was a tick of silence again, something Wriothesley was rather fond of sometimes… like in this case. Yet, his eyes did not miss Sigewinne standing up from her chair and striding over to where you rested on the couch. There was a careful, cautious, way she held her hand out as she checked you.

“She’s still asleep,” Sigewinne noted.

And Wriothesley hummed in response, “I couldn’t tell.” Where was Sigewinne going with this, Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed slightly, though they were not harsh.

“Maybe she’s dreaming about you, Duke!”

Wriothesley is a hard man to crack. He was the Duke of the Fortress, a peacekeeper among the convicted, and yet sometimes when he was with you he couldn’t help but be that ever so lenient. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you after Sigewinne had come skipping into his office late one day while you were in her Medical Bay. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, being in the Fortress there were few people to speak to you with the kindness Sigewinne does; And you two often had conversations, even nights where you would have quote-on-quote sleepovers. Yet, today you went due to a headache. And, no less than an hour later, Sigewinne came skipping into his office like she had won the lottery – and Wriothesley half-entertained such a ridiculous thought. “What’s the good news, Nurse Sigewinne?” Wriothesley played along with her bubbly demeanor; Enjoying the change of pace from his slow, meticulous work which dragged on for hours on end. He swore to himself when he was half way done, he would go check on you, yet he was only a ¼. Luckily, seemingly, the news had been brought to him. “Well, they’re doing a lot better! It only appeared to be a headache due to not drinking enough water, but that tends to be normal.” Sigewinne reported as she came to a halt beside Wriothesley’s desk. “But, she also spoke rather colorfully about you!"

“Oh?” Wriothesley’s curiosity peaked, though a voice also nagged him about respecting your privacy. “Is that a good thing, or perhaps a bad thing, Nurse Sigewinne?” He knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him much, as there still was patient confidentiality, even in the Fortress. But, by the way Sigewinne’s face beamed and the way her hands animatedly rested upon her hip, he was sure she was about to tell him to shoot his shot… once again. He thought it was enough she had gotten the others to bug him about it, while also still placing stickers upon his back, but he couldn’t stay angered, or even annoyed, at them for long. Or at all. “I can’t say much, but I say you have a very good chance of landing her, Mr. Wriothesley!” Sigewinne beamed, and Wriothesley swore her smile went ear to ear.

Wriothesley was a private man, as private as one can get for being the Duke of a prison, yet you can always tell how he felt about a person from his actions. He was, and is, a man of few words … he always had been since you two were teenagers. And you never failed to take notice of it. Especially when he first began to give you some favor. 

Of course, it was nothing too big, nor grand, when you were teenagers going onto young adults. It was small gestures that would brighten up your day ever so slightly more, like holding open the door for you or walking closer when a nasty group of inmates sent creepy looks your way. He had even gotten into a fight with one of them after they approached you. Wriothesley had walked away for a second, going to get you both your lunch, when he turned around to see the guy grabbing your arm. Seeing you wriggle and writhe under the man’s disgusting touch was more than enough for Wriothesley to send a nasty blow to the side of the guy’s head, which caused him to crack his head open on the floor below.  It had been one of the few complications he had gotten into while at the Fortress, and he never regretted it. At least, that’s what he constantly told you and you had to believe his word. But, that event had been the first time that you felt some sort of pang in your heart regarding the, now, Duke; And it surely wasn’t the last. Especially after you were sure that Wriothesley was sending signals your way constantly by his small actions that always made you feel safer, closer, to him.

Yet, you had always had your own reservations on confessing to the Duke; Mostly having to do with where you came from, why you had left, and who was currently looking for you. You didn’t want Wriothesley, no matter how many times he defended you and said he would punch someone’s lights out if they messed with you, to get hurt because of the people you used to know. So you always waited for him to confess… and then tell him the dangers. But, day by day you compiled more and more reasons as to why Wriothesley might love you, and many more reasons why you loved him back. For one, he was a complete gentleman; To that, while he tended to be a little short and cold, he very much made it apparent that you could tell him anything, or even just lean on him if you needed. When you two walked, sometimes his hand would rest on the small of your back rather than your waist, and he would open the doors for you when you entered a building. Then there was the glares to the inmates who tried to mess with you, which was a little less fun to deal with, but a comfort nonetheless, and the visits to the Medical Bay he’d personally take to check up on your well being. There was, of course, a lot more that Wriothesley did that always made you feel special, more than you could ever count in a lifetime. And you were sure if things were different in your life you would have confessed to him long ago about the feelings that continuously welled in your chest, like a rapid river bashing against a dam begging to be freed yet never feeling such freedom. Man, wasn’t that poetic? 

“Hey, we need to talk.” Wriothesley’s voice was like a net, catching your attention and bringing it to shore – bringing you back to the present moment and back to Wriothesley. You had been at lunch, having brought up your meal you bought with coupons up to Wriothesley’s office and was currently toying with it on his floor. You would usually be sitting on the couch, waiting for the Duke to spare some attention to you which he tended to grace you with more than others. (Seriously! You had watched Neuvillette have to sit and wait for about an hour or more to speak with the Duke as he finished up some paperwork. It was slightly painful). But, you decided to not test your luck that day and possibly stain Wriothesley’s couch with… whatever you were eating. Honestly, you were so lost in thought you had forgotten what they had served, and now looking at it, it was too much of a mess for your brain to piece together. “A talk? That’s never good,” The sly comment shortly dropped from your lips, a snicker across your face as you glanced up at the Duke. His arms were crossed in a somehow pensive and relaxed (you weren’t sure how that's feasible, but he made it work) fashion as he leaned back against his chair, having taken his eyes off of his work for the first time in a few hours. Unknown to you, he hadn’t been able to complete some of the papers that flooded his desk because his mind kept drifting back to you. You. God, you were so perfect in his eyes. Even if he logically knew that no one could be quote-on-quote perfect, he sometimes chose to ignore that fact for you. Only you, really. 

“Nah, I think you’ll like this one,” Wriothesley continued, a chuckle present upon his lips that gave his stubble some light. When was the last time he shaved? The thought crossed your mind. You didn’t mind it, of course, you always enjoyed his stubble, it made him look more handsome in your eyes. But, even so, his looks weren’t enough to evade your skeptical side glance and the cock of your eyebrow. Even if Wriothesley snickered, knowing you had been checking him out a little; After all, he sometimes purposely lets his stubble grow out for you. Wriothesley was a man of few words, and even sometimes his words tended to fail him. So, there was a brief moment that his eyes lingered onto yours, and yours lingered right back to his. A beat, maybe even longer, before he stood from his desk and strided over to where you sat on the floor, kneeling down to your height. And, being so close, you could almost see all the words that were swirling in his head in his eyes; The regrets yet also momentums that wanted to pour out, yet he kept locked inside, as he reached a hand out and wiped a smug of food from your cheek. To others, his face might have seemed cold or indifferent, but you could tell there was some sort of attentiveness in his eyes that gave him away. It always had. And, just like Wriothesley, your own eyes and body always tended to give you away to him. The way your eyes crinkled ever so more when you laughed at one of his poorly delivered jokes. The way you always entertained the joke of Sigewinne being your shared child, much to her dismay, and the way you always naturally floated to his presence when he was in a room.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that, right?” Wriothesley would tease, as a crinkle appeared in the corner of his eye. You knew what he was talking about and it made your heart flip. Both in a good way and a bad way. You would feel guilty putting Wriothesley into the fire that you had forged, which burnt down everything you had ever known beforehand. And yet, you were unaware that Wriothesley was equally as revered as confessing to you due to the likeness that the Fortress might become your shared home. He didn’t want that life for you as much as you didn’t want your life for him. And yet, despite that, Wriothesley was shooting his shot, as despite all the uncertainties that clouded both of your minds, there will still always be a shared affection for one another that wouldn’t fade easily, if ever. So, you snorted and confessed, “You’re not much better yourself, Duke.” Despite your mind screaming at you differently.

And, it was strangely peaceful to get that heavy weight off your chest, even if it felt like your heart was being crushed all the same. Though, if you were able to weather your own struggles with anyone, you know it would be with Wriothesley – in turn, Wriothesley knew that if push came to shove, you’ll be there to lend him the extra strength to deal twice the blow. And so it always felt right, in your hearts, for you two to be together. Yet, why did that new found heavyweight only grow heavier?

Home | Masterlist

[obbystars]

It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.

NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!

( Written before 2.2 / Kinda short tbh / Boothill may be OOC / not really angst as it turns into fluff tbh / I blame this / title was chosen because I was listening to the song at the time / GN!Reader )

It took a while for Boothill to even get used to this new life, or new body. Every time he looked at himself, he’s reminded of what was stolen from him. For a time, he hated his body. He sometimes wished he stayed dead. He feels so cold. He didn’t… He never wanted this, though as time passed, he grew accustomed to it. He eventually accepted it, but it never stopped those thoughts from worming their way back into his head.

He doesn’t quite feel… human. Nothing about him truly felt human.

“Boothill? You still there?” The voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

The gentle beating of a heart entered his ears. He felt warm. He felt a warm hand gently rubbing his face. Another hand was playing with a few strands of his hair before it was now gently brushing it. He opened his eyes, finding himself in an all too familiar room. One he had always looked forward to going back to once he finally had time to spare.

And underneath him? His favorite person, of course. Someone he always looked forward to seeing again, to spending more time with. He looks up at you, and you took note of his expression.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, burying his face into your chest and closing his eyes again, “No, no ya didn’t... Don’t worry ‘bout it,”

His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, trapping you in bed with him. You wiggled around in his grip for a bit to get a bit comfortable, resulting in you having to move him further up. His face was now in the crook of your neck.

Was he crushing you? Surely if he was, you would’ve said something or even tried to nudge him away. Were you cold? He hoped not… You did sometimes push him off of you because he was too cold. Sometimes he wishes he could provide you the warmth you always give him, but it’s not like he can feel it anywhere else other than his face. He hated that.

“You okay?” You questioned, your voice snapping him back to reality.

His answer was only a faint hum this time. He feels your hand brush his hair again, and you swear you can just feel him melt under your touch. It surprised you sometimes. A brash, flamboyant Galaxy Ranger, always full of energy and ready for the next journey across the stars almost turning into mush once your hands meet him. It was something you picked up on very quickly, and it didn’t take as long for you to realize why he reacts this way.

“Does it bother you?”

Your hands stop moving through the white strands, “Does what bother me?”

“This… My body. Does it-”

“No. Not at all,” you suddenly cut in, “You get cold sometimes, but that doesn’t bother me. Why do you ask?”

“…it’s nothin’,”

You turn your head to face him, nuzzling him knowing he can feel you there, “Well… It definitely is something, but… Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears,”

He can feel you gently press a kiss on his head, and another, and another, and another. The only place where he can feel you, and you were practically showering him with small kisses.

He feels warm, especially when he’s with you. Maybe that’s why he always looks forward to moments like this with you because for once, even if it’s just for a moment, he feels human.

ehhh, this felt better in my head but oh well, I just really wanted to write Boothill

I don’t regularly post fics or hcs like this but maybe I’ll make a silly side blog for it if I do find myself wanting to write so much more for Boothill ( I literally love him so much )

[wildechildwrites]

Relax

Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Depression, self-esteem issues, mind control (not in a bad way but it's in there)

No use of Y/N, gender neutral reader

Summary: You haven't left your bed in days, too depressed to get anything done. Shinsou stops by your apartment to check on you and helps in his own way.

A/N: Wrote this because I've been too depressed to get out of bed, forgive any mistakes or ooc I didn't even really want to post it in the first place.

AO3 Link: Relax

You think you’ve hit a record for continuous hours spent in bed, and probably permanently fucked your kidneys because you don’t even have the energy to get up to use the bathroom. The floor of your room is disgusting, and dishes are piled up in the kitchen. You know you smell, and that there’s so much work for you to do, deadlines you’ve barely managed to avoid by calling in sick to the hero agency you do secretarial work at, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

There’s a knock on your door, but you just ignore it, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You don’t want to see anyone, and you’re not expecting to anyway. 

Whoever is at your door doesn’t stop, knocking harder and more insistently. You even hear your door knob jiggle, which spurs your anxiety on enough to get you to drag yourself out of bed. Your legs feel slightly wobbly, the inactivity of the last few days catching up to you as blood flows through your limbs. Catching your own reflection in the mirror makes you wince, but it’s a lost cause you’d rather not address. Whoever is knocking hasn’t stopped, and you yank open your front door irritably. If it’s some stupid solicitor–

Your jaw drops at the sight of one of the heroes from your agency, Shinso Hitoshi, standing outside your door. He’s dressed for patrol in all black, wrapped in his scarf, his voice modulator hanging loosely around his neck. His hair is wild as always, purple locks sticking in all directions, and he scans your form quickly, as if checking you for visible injuries. You remember how disheveled you look and your face heats up. 

“What are you doing here?” your voice is hoarse from disuse and your most recent crying jag, and you immediately wince at the way you sound, but Shinsou’s expression doesn’t change.

“I’ve come to check on you. I heard you were ill.” His tone is blandly neutral, as though it’s something that he does all the time, like you’re not just some stupid underling he’s contractually obligated to tolerate. His violet eyes narrow. “You’re not sick though.” 

You shrug self-consciously. You don’t understand why he’s here. You’re friendly at work, going out of your way to make conversation with the normally reserved hero, but you’ve never spent any real time together. You’re not sure what made him decide a house visit was in order. He definitely has more important things to do than checking up on you, and now you’re just wasting his time. You wrap your arms around yourself.

 “I just needed a day off.” You step backwards, going to shut the door. “Thanks for checking on me.” Shinsou’s foot shoots out, wedging the door open. There’s a beat as you two stare at each other, your mouth open in surprise.

“You’re not doing well,” Shinsou says, a frown on his face. He pushes your door open, and before you can protest, pro-hero MindJack has crowded into your disgusting apartment. You’re pretty sure it’s only because his poker face is so good that he doesn’t grimace at the mess, just stares at you, a crease in between his eyebrows. Humiliation burns in your chest. Now he knows you’re a gross waste of space, and he’ll probably tell everyone at work that you can’t even manage to keep your apartment clean. 

“Oh, little one,” he sighs. You pray for a black hole to spontaneously appear and swallow you up, but don’t get any such mercy. “You need tea,” he says firmly. “Tea, and then you’re going to tell me what’s making you depressed.”

Shinsou heads towards your kitchen with a strange amount of confidence for someone who’s never been in your apartment before, ignoring the dirty dishes piled in the sink in favor of the kettle.

Part of you knows you should protest, but you can't bring yourself to care, scraping the bottom of the well and coming up empty. You shove the pile of clothes strewn on your couch to the floor and sink into the cushions, your eyes on the hero in your kitchen. Maybe you’re just having a really weird dream.

All of your mugs are dirty, so Shinsou washes your favorite, plucking it out of the stack. You wonder if it's a part of his quirk to pick up on things like that. He even remembers how you take your tea, cradling the mug gently in both hands and plopping down beside you, sinking into your couch, his long legs sprawling out in front of him. Your fingers brush against his own, thin and unnaturally warm from the heat of the drink as he hands it to you. You're reminded of the last time you saw him. 

You've got two full trays of coffee balanced precariously in both hands, fighting a losing battle against flimsy cardboard and gravity. Your face is furrowed in concentration, your eyes fixed on your full hands when someone plucks the trays out of your grasp with nimble fingers. Your head shoots up, and you're about to protest when you see a pair of familiar purple eyes on yours. They’re beautiful up close, blue flecks making them seem almost periwinkle in the fluorescent office lights. Bashfulness hits you like a tsunami, and you try to tamp it down.

“Seems you've got your hands full,” Shinsou comments dryly. You smile and shrug, flustered by his proximity. 

“All in a day's work.” You bite your lip, feeling awkward. “I um, I got you one too, even though I wasn't sure if you'd be in today. You drink it black right? Dark roast?” Deftly, you pluck his out of one of the trays, then hold your other hand out expectantly. “Trade you?”

Shinsou stares at you intently, his expression unreadable. An odd shiver runs down your spine, like cold water dripping through your veins, and there’s a beat of silence before he finally responds, like he had to reboot. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly. He hands you one of the trays and accepts the warm cup from your hands, fingers brushing against yours. Despite your protests, Shinsou insists on helping you with your errand, trailing behind you to the meeting room you’re headed to. 

You pass out the drinks quickly, ignoring the odd stares that come with having a purple haired shadow lingering behind you, obediently holding the tray as though it’s the most important part of his day. 

Shinsou doesn’t speak until you're both out in the hallway. 

“You didn't get yourself anything.” There's a slight crease in between his eyes. It's adorable, the singular sign of concern in his placid expression. You’d like to reach out and smooth it out with your thumb. 

“They ran out of the tea I like,” you say, trying and failing to not sound like you’re pouting. Shinsou hums in acknowledgement. He’s suddenly distracted, his mind obviously elsewhere as he shoots you a vague goodbye before abruptly turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction. You smile to yourself. Sometimes the heroes were so odd.

After your lunch break, a cup of tea appears on your desk. You don’t see Shinsou again, but you can’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the day.  

You’ve sat in silence for at least twenty minutes, unsure of what to say. You wish Shinsou would just leave, but you’re not brave enough to say so. You just want to be left alone. The idea of talking about your pathetic problems with someone who has real responsibilities is mortifying. Shinsou seems content to remain unnervingly quiet beside you, relaxing on your secondhand couch.

“I’m not even sad, really. I’m just bad at being a person,” you finally say. “I fuck up everything and I'm going nowhere.” Your head thunks back against the couch cushions. Shinsou is staring at you, and you wish you could just disappear, but the floodgates have been opened, everything that’s been weighing you down spilling out.

 “It’s so exhausting to even just be alive. I feel so overwhelmed and stressed constantly about the most miniscule things. I wish someone would tell me what to do because I seem to be incapable of making decisions, even with little things like what to eat and how to organize my closet. Every choice I make is the wrong one.”  You sniffle, desperately fighting back the threat of tears. 

There’s a quick change in the placid expression on Shinsou’s face, a ripple in the still waters of a pond. 

“I could help.” His voice is hesitant but his gaze is sharp, lilac eyes pinning you down. You run a hand through your greasy hair absentmindedly, confused.

 “How?”

He stares at you with a deadpan expression until you realize what he’s implying. Duh. 

“I could… make some decisions for you. Help you be productive.”

You've never seen a mind altering quirk in action. Your curiosity sparks, and you push yourself to sit up.

“Can you just tell me to… not? Be depressed?” you ask.

Shinsou tilts his head, a small frown on his face. “It doesn’t work like that, unfortunately. But I might be able to make you feel better. At least temporarily.”

The silence while you mull over his offer is tense. You don't want him to use his powers superfluously. You're not sure if his quirk has limitations, but you don't want to exhaust it for a stupid reason like this. 

“I can't ask you to do that.” You say.

“You're not asking,” he replies firmly. “I'm offering because I want to help. It'll–” he hesitates, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I've heard that it's not bad, the sensation of it.”

You stare at him, absentmindedly chewing on your lip. Nothing can make you feel worse than you do right now, you reason. Maybe you can get him to make you clean. Or fill out bills. 

“How do we start?”

Shinsou looks surprised, then pleased, his eyes warm. He shifts closer to you, and you catch the scent of cologne, light and clean. Your heart gives an odd stutter.

“Are you going to be good for me?” His voice is barely a whisper. Heat rises to your face at the question, warmth kindling low in your stomach. You ignore your own reaction, focusing on his question.

“Yes Shinsou,” you reply. His mouth curves up, his demeanor changing instantly, slipping on intensity like a glove. A long arm drapes across the back of your sofa, boxing you in, closing the gap between you. He's bigger than you realized, so close like this, wiry muscle covering his slim form. His eyes are dark and deeper than you've ever seen them, like a twilight sky. You can't look away, a rabbit caught in the hypnotic gaze of a snake.

“Relax,” he orders, his voice silky smooth but impossibly firm. The words have an immediate effect, melting into you, tugging at your brainstem. A shiver runs down your spine, and you feel the tension in your body unfurl, like you’re slipping into a warm bath.

There’s a part of you that’s panicking, a jerk of animal instinct that fights against the downy sensation that’s settling into your mind. You try to quiet the protest. You want to be good for Shinsou, want him to think that you're good. He sees the conflict in your expression and leans impossibly closer, a gentle hand reaching up to tip your chin towards him. Your eyes drop down to his mouth, and his breath catches.

“You’re doing so well,” he says quietly. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but I’d never hurt you.” He cocks his head, voice slipping back into a more authoritarian tone. “Now, go take a shower and brush your teeth.” 

The words have an instant effect on you, pulling an invisible string. You jerk to your feet, unsteadily beelining towards the bathroom, his little marionette doll. Shinsou rises as well, heading towards your bedroom. 

The first time you meet Shinsou is in one of the many break rooms of the agency you work at. He strolls in, and you have to make a concentrated effort from keeping your jaw from dropping. He's tall and handsome, his surprisingly delicate features thrown off by the dark circles under his eyes. The coffee you're pouring overflows onto your hand in your distraction, and you curse quietly under your breath, spinning around to grab some paper towel to clean your mess. 

“Careful, the coffee's hot,” a dry voice speaks from behind you. It's low in an unexpected way, appealing despite his lack of inflection. You let out a scoff at his comment. You go over a mental list of the heroes at your agency, trying to pinpoint who he is.

“You're MindJack, right?” you finally ask, turning back to face him, your curiosity getting the best of you. He looks surprised. 

“You know who I am?” 

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve seen what you can do, read your file and stuff.” You're desperately trying to come off as nonchalant, throwing your shoulders up in an exaggerated shrug. Hopefully he doesn’t think you’re a stalker or anything. You clear your throat. “You’ve got a pretty interesting quirk.” 

“Interesting is a kind way to put it, I believe.” His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it. You read the sudden tension in his shoulders, the way his lips thin. “Most people think it’s a villainous quirk to have.” 

You roll your eyes. Morons. 

“People are just shitty about it because they’d probably be evil if they had your power,” You say, trying to sound matter of fact. “If anything, it just proves you’re a better hero, you resisted the pull because you’ve got strong morals.”

 You smile at him, and he returns it, a quick crescent moon flash of teeth that has you ducking your head.

“I guess I’ve never thought of it that way,” he murmurs thoughtfully.

Shinsou found your stash of clean sheets and is making your bed when you walk into your bedroom after your shower, squeaky clean and wrapped in a towel. He turns to you, and you see his cheeks go pink, his eyes trailing down your form before shooting back up to your face with a guilty expression. Shame rushes through you, disturbing the detached serenity you feel. You should've told him you needed to change, instead of barging in practically naked. He's being so nice, and you’re ruining things like always. You can feel the corners of your mouth turning down, anxiety fighting against the artificial calm Shinsou has coached your mind into.

He clicks his tongue, matching your frown with one of his own. “I’m sorry, I lost focus. You’re alright, relax for me.”

It’s an odd sensation, a roller coaster drop and then you’re back to tranquility. He smiles at you with that half crescent flash of teeth. Your knees feel weak. 

“I’ll go start the dishes while you put on some fresh clothes and start some laundry. Sounds good?”

The sun's dipping low in the sky, the shadows growing long as you and Shinsou fold the mounds of laundry you've finished. Time feels strange, chores that normally take hours slipping by in moments, the sound of Shinsou's voice filling the silence and echoing in your head. He tells you about becoming a hero, about training and about work. You like the way his voice sounds, the lack of inflection giving way to little tells, peaks and valleys in his speech pattern that you’ve never picked up on before.

He's propped himself against your bed, making quick work of the pile of socks he’s folding, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he concentrates. You're struck with the soft domesticity of it all, the compassion of Shinsou taking so much time to help try to pull you out of the hole you’ve found yourself in. Gratitude overwhelms you, your chest tight with it. 

You don't realize there are tears running down your cheeks until Shinsou looks up at you, and lets out a soft gasp, abandoning the pile of socks.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concern lacing his tone. “Did I push you too much today? Did we do anything you didn’t want?” He’s so close to you, hands hovering hesitant around your face, desperate to comfort but afraid to close the gap. You shoot him a watery smile, wiping your eyes before you pull him into a tight hug. He freezes at the contact, a heartbeat of surprise before melting against you, long arms wrapping around your body.

“You're just so nice,” you say, voice muffled against his chest. You feel his lips brush against the top of your head softly. You don't feel better, necessarily, the empty hole in your chest still present, but you feel less heavy. Your apartment looks great, and your to do list is down to an almost manageable level. He’s done so much more for you than you can express, so you just hug him tighter, burying your face into his neck. 

You want to stay like this forever, huddled on your bedroom floor, cradled in each other’s arms. The warmth of the moment is shattered by the ring of his phone. 

Being a hero is a ceaseless calling. He answers, and you try to convince yourself that the curt note in his voice is disappointment at the interruption. You pull back and pretend not to eavesdrop, schooling your face into a neutral expression for when he hangs up, regret coloring his features.

“I have to go,” he says, and you muster a smile.

“I’ll walk you out.” 

MindJack stands in your doorway for the second time tonight, lingering in the warmth of your apartment. You’re back to feeling stressed, hyper aware of the vulnerability he’s seen today. You hope he doesn’t say anything to anyone. You hope he still likes you after all of this. His next sentence catches you completely off guard, your own self doubt totally off base. 

“I'll stop by to pick you up for work tomorrow morning,” he says, his voice almost casual. There's a soft pink to his cheeks, and you feel an answering heat rise to your own. “Unless you’re planning on calling in sick again.” 

“You really don’t have to do that.” You feel like you’ve put him out enough tonight already.

“I’d like to.” Those purple eyes have you pinned again, and you feel yourself nodding without thinking. Before you can blink, he leans into your space, wrapping a long arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and pressing his lips to yours in a fierce kiss. His mouth is warm and soft. He nips at your bottom lip and you quietly gasp. He takes advantage, deepening the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, his tongue sweeping against yours. You reach your hands up, weaving your fingers through his hair, and he lets out an appreciative groan when you tug him closer. His phone buzzes again and he pulls away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says breathlessly. You don’t know how to tell him what a difference he’s made for you. You’ve got so much you’d like to say to him, but you know he has to go. He’s stayed longer than he should already.

“Thank you,” you say simply. You hope he understands the true weight of your appreciation. You gaze tenderly at each other for a moment before he reaches a hand out, fingers ghosting against your cheek, then slips out of your apartment.

[hatsunemiku-official]

ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

🐟 @megurineluka-official

🐙 @otomachi-una-official

🍷 @hanakomeiko-official

💛 @neruakita-official

🍌 @kagaminelen-official

🍊 @kagaminerin-official

🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

💜 @vflower-official

🥕 @gumi-official

🖤 @zatsunemiku-official

🍡 @tohokuzunko-official

🩹 @fukase-official

🔌 @utatanepiko-official

🐰 @yukari-official

🩵 @ringsuzune-official

⚓️ @oliverv3-official

🌷 @nekomurairoha-official

🥢 @vocaloidcul-official

☕️ @rukoyokune-official

🥂 @meiko-offical

👑 @galaco-official

🐱 @seeu-official

🌸 @meikahime-official

🪻 @meikamikoto-official

🍆 @gakupo-official

🎀 @utanekoe-official

🌹 @sakinemeiko-official

🔪 @mayuofficial

🛰️ @moonbase-alpha-tts-official

🍺 @yowane-haku-official

🪐 @ia-official

🎹 @namineritsu-official

☁️ @tone-rion-official

🎤 @maika-official

🌈 @kawaiine-official

🍏 @macnenana-official

🌻 @dex-official

💗 @garnetvocaloid-official

💿 @yohioloid-official

🌺 @zhizidongfang-official

🤍 @kokone-official

🐸 @vocaloidrana-official

🌟 @xingchen-official

🍎 @yuki-official

🌿 @fionetheutau-official

💫 @sfa2miki-official

[luwritesomething]

Billy Loomis x reader

Reader is having a horrible day and.billy comforts her

Billy Loomis x Reader: bad day (good life)

Warnings: Swearing (probably), bad day, billy climbing through your window

Tags: fluff, lowkey domestic, established relationship, a single kiss, bad day but good outcome, pre murders, ooc for billy (i don’t think so but he’s definitely not in his psychotic breakdown here)

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is referred to as ‘doll’ once).

Word count: 1109

Summary: Reader had a bad day, but good thing Billy boy is there to save the day.

Author’s note: i love him your honor :’) jesus christ it literally makes NO SENSE how much i love this man. please, keep the billy requests coming, i love writing for him!!!! pre murders, during murders, post murders, fluff, angst, you name it!!! i’ll write anything for him at this point <3 thank you for requesting @manyfandomsfanvergent, i loved writing this one and i really appreciate people sending requests :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The only light in the room was the one that came from the little lamp by your nightstand, barely enough to make certain corners of the bedroom visible enough. A soft but chill end-of-summer breath sneaked through the slightly open window, chilling the room down and forcing you to cover even better with your bed’s covers, since you had no energy to get up and close it. 

The comforting covers’ weight wasn’t enough that day to make you feel anything different than the despair that had attacked your day since the moment you had woken up, and all you wanted was to fall asleep and face a new, better morning. But of course, nothing could go correctly, and your mind wouldn’t stop spinning and spiraling, keeping you wide awake instead of letting you drift into a sweet dream. Just great.

Billy hadn’t really noticed you were having a bad day, you had played it cool enough during your time together at school for his careful eye not to catch anything out of character, so his visit wasn’t really justified apart from wanting to get out of his house and possibly spend more time with you. When he saw that your window was open, he didn’t even try to warn you of his arrival, instead choosing to climb like he was already used to — he had probably used the door to your house once, that time he had come to check how you were feeling during that day you had skipped class because of being sick. 

His eyes scanned the room from outside before he finally lifted himself with the help of his arms and slid into your bedroom, not used to so much darkness. Billy was surprised to not see you sitting on your desk, doing the English essay you had due tomorrow — he knew you hadn’t started because you had mentioned during lunch while you talked with Sidney. His eyebrows raised slightly when he saw you coddled on bed, covers and sheets almost completely covering your head. 

“Everything alright, doll?”

His presence and voice triggered you so badly — given that, during your laments, you hadn’t heard him, especially considering how stealthy he always tried to be —, that you sat up, letting the covers fall around you as your heart beated desperately against your chest. You relaxed when you saw it was just Billy, but your heart continued to furiously attempt to break out from its place.

“Jesus, Billy, don’t ever scare me like that.” You muttered rather quickly, and then you let yourself go back to your previous position in bed. Billy smiled to himself as he made his way to your bed, slowly. You felt the mattress dip down when he sat by the end of it, and you sighed. “It’s just… a bad day.”

Billy looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Hm?”

You gave in, letting your voice come out all muffled as you pressed your face against the pillow. “Terrible, actually.”

“Oh, no.” He chuckled, and you knew he wasn’t laughing at you when his weight shifted and he crawled to your side, mindful of not letting his boots touch your clean covers. When you moved your face away from the pillow, you saw his face just some inches away from yours, boring his eyes into yours. “What are we gonna do about that?”

A soft smile blossomed in your lips while his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb lovingly brushing against your skin. “Come cuddle?” You whispered hopefully.

Billy just hummed, and the two seconds you had to wait for him to get rid of his boots was excruciating. Once he was barefoot, he slid next to you under the covers, his arms coming to surround you and press you closely against him — you wished more people knew this version of him. He looked gloomy and even scary from the outside, but his sweetness was betrayed by his eyes and his actions, not only with you, but with those he loved.

“There.” He said softly when your head came to rest in his chest. His heartbeat was slow, grounding, comforting, but most of all, familiar. “I missed you.”

You dismissed the fact you had seen each other throughout most of the whole day, and instead tried your best to lift your gaze to him. “Did you really?”

“Mhm.” Billy hummed softly, his fingers rubbing circles against your arm. “Thought about you the whole day. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” 

“Your day?”

“Oh.” Your head instantly started to shake, a silent no that was quickly followed by, “Not really.”

You only knew he had acknowledged that because of the way he hummed, the vibrations reverberating against your head pressed to his chest. It was a warm feeling, fuzzy, that made you smile softly. You inhaled his scent slowly, letting his perfume surround you in that comfort your covers hadn’t been able to give you.

“You’re comfortable.” You muttered after some seconds, hiding your smile.

Billy couldn’t help but snort. “You’re not using me as a pillow.”

“I already am.”

“But you’re easy to shove.”

Laughter spilled from your mouth, and your arms came to surround his waist, under all the sheets covering you. “No!”

With a soft smile you didn’t see, Billy heard your laughter continue and eventually die, leaving just the trace of a genuine smile in your pretty face. His breath could have caught in his throat if this had been the first time he had ever seen you like this, but instead, he recognized the sight and the familiarity it brought him almost overwhelmed him.

“You laughed.” He said, after some minutes.

You frowned slightly. “Uh?”

“I made you laugh.” Billy pointed out, and you could hear the boyish grin in his lips. “Even when you were sulking so badly.”

“Get over it.” You said with a roll of your eyes, but not moving an inch from him. “It was a bad day, not a bad life.”

Billy just shook his head, his smile growing with every passing second, and holding you impossibly closer to him. You could get used to this, you thought, as you closed your eyes to focus on the heartbeat beating happily because of you. You’ve gotten used to this, you realized when Billy’s hand lifted your head with just tapping your chin, getting you to look at him with stars in your eyes that he certainly reciprocated. 

“Kiss me?” You muttered, like asking for a promise.

He smiled, watching you for a few seconds before he finally leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was a promise.

[atvace]

Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Call of Duty men x Female!Reader

(y/n) got demoted from the FBI inspector general down to sergeant because of her valiant move in a drug smuggling mission. she has been assigned to task force 141.

"what a bunch of fuckers." she thought.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

available to read in AO3 and Wattpad!

• not owning any character, they belong to their creators whatsoever

• slow building, eventual porn, character development. slow update because I need to play the campaign first

• not so accurate, might ooc a lil

• Los Vaqueros, Mexican Cartel, Kortac included

● This was originally written in my Wattpad (@Atvace) but I decided to post it here too for more recognition.

●warning: Harsh words, incoming shameless smut (non-con will have a warning in the chapter intro), drug addiction, smoking, drinking (me, im sorry), sh, sa, ptsd, mention of rape, angst (from the comics), F/M/M type a smut, etc. chapter that contains smut will have the TW.

copy my work, I hope your cat makes biscuit to your face with their murder mittens and leaves claw marks all over yo shit face, I hope you did your homework but forgot to publish it so you got an F, I hope your mom forgot your lunch and you starved for the rest of the day, I hope a roach fly to your face when you're taking a huge shit, I hope when you take that huge shit it's so huge you got hemorrhoid for the next 5 months

Spotify:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

[poopiefart420]

Pls tell me more abt your divorced dad AU Ozai!! And his relationship with Ursa and his kids and how it all went down etc.! If you wanna :'D!

I’ll be completely honest I don’t have a full grasp on it I just apply my experiences with my dad and plaster ozai on it 😭 but I’ll try just for u PLS ADD IF YALL THINK ANYONES OOC OR LIKE ANY IDEAS YALL HAVE BC I SUCK AT WRITING

I ALSO HAVENT READ THE SEARCH SO BARE WITH ME

incoming yap sesh 🎉🎉

How Ursa and Ozai met and divorced (and Ozais side of things post divorce)

Ozai was in a completely different major to Ursa the fact they even saw each other in the cafe was a rare occurrence but Ursa caught Ozais eye

Being the kind of guy he is he would linger and watch her because he is cooked in terms of romance

Ursa made the first approach

Seeing Ozai and Ursa interact made Ikem uneasy because of the weird energy Ozai had but he let it slide after Ursa reassured him Ozai was normal (WATCH OUT IKEM HES MR STEAL UR GIRL)

Eventually, it came down to Ozai and Ursa becoming closer and Ozai finally growing some balls and asking her out (“Go out with me” “what”)

Since Ikem and Ursa still weren’t official but they had something Ursa asked Ozai to give her time and she chose to distance herself from Ikem and go out with Ozai ( NOOOOO URSA RUN)

it eventually became an official relationship with the whole meeting parents and family fun stuff (Ursa's family thought Ozai was ominous asf but they accepted their daughter's choices with a couple of complaints)

Ursa and Ozai's years before kids were pretty good until after they got married and Azulon started to pressure Ozai into his business (politics or whatever y’all want it to be) and the pressure to have kids

Ursa could see the way it was affecting Ozai but she made no comment because Ozai was impossible to get to talk about his emotions

When they finally had Zuko it changed them both Ursa looked at Zuko with love; Ozai looked at him looking for potential (despite the fact Ozai told Ursa he wouldn't be like his father)

On Ozai's part his mental health was lowkey in the gutter (but he never acknowledged that mental health is for losers not alphas like him) and he continued to compete for Azulons position in the company with Iroh

Iroh could give less of a shit btw he’s chilling with his kid

Ozai picked up smoking/vaping but he never did it in front of Ursa because he knew she would throw a hissy fit (in his eyes)

If anything by now Ozai and Ursa were drifting but Ursa decided to have another kid to see if that would bring them together and they could be a happy family

So when Zuko was 2 they had Azula and Zuko loved his new baby sister. As the kids grew up Ozai put pressure on them regarding school, martial arts, etc…

This made them grow distant and Ursa was becoming nervous because not only were her kids constantly fighting but her husband encouraged it

She tried to give Zuko as much love as she could to combat the harsh words he would get from Ozai and Azula, but in doing that she was losing Azula

She realized the source of the issue was Azulon and Ozai. She considered maybe killing Azulon but nowadays there’s forensic science so she just filed for divorce in hopes her kids can grow up without having Ozais influence

Ozai was sure she was divorcing him because she was cheating on him with Ikem. He signed the papers but the days leading up to the divorce were him arguing and trying to make her more miserable as “revenge”

Azula was angry with Ursa because she thought she was trying to take her away from her dad and she would ignore Ursa and latch onto Ozai (Zuko would latch onto Ursa but he was still hurt that they were going to leave Ozai because that's still his dad)

When they finally divorced Ursa took her kids to live in her parent's home and Ozai would drunkenly call her yelling abt how she’s Ikem's bitch and this and that

Eventually, things calmed down as time passed and Ursa was able to kindle some sort of relationship with Azula but Zuko was a mommas boy through and through

OH I FORGOT the whole Azulon dying thing doesn't really happen bro just dies of like falling down some stairs without his cane IDK LMAOOO and Iroh recently lost Lu Ten to a car crash so he just gave Ozai the company

Ozai's side of things post divorce

Ozai continued to live in the original families house but he would pick up Zuko and Azula on weekends.

He fought for weekend custody because like hell was Ursa gonna strip him of his company heirs

His nicotine habits worsened but when the kids came he would only smoke in the car (nicotine patches inside the home)

He continued to nurture the rivalry between his kids and let them do whatever they wanted as long as they didn't burn down the house (unlimited access to everything i wonder how bad that could go)

By the time the kids reached their tween/teen years Ozai just stopped picking them up as much; Zuko would feel so much relief when Ozai would call saying he was busy that weekend (also disappointment he wanted to prove himself to daddy dearest)

Zuko gaining his scar from Ozai was more of a Ozai going into a angry fit from being talked back to while he was by a source of fire (idk a candle i rlly dont know how a hand print would appear without magic fire powers)

When Ursa found out she immediately reported Ozai to CPS but as usual CPS lets Ozai off because he is a successful man (hush money...)

Ozai isn't allowed to have either kids over at his house because Ursa does not trust him in the slightest, but Azula still asks Ozai to pick her up for the weekends (she argues with her mom on this because in her eyes Ursa is trying to isolate her)

He stays awake at night wondering what he could’ve done better but then argues with himself that he was the best Ursa was ever gonna get (pov when your insecure but full of yourself at the same time)

I have nothing more to say sooo YEA sorry if its not like peak writing but ive never written a fic i just pace around my room and half of this stuff was made up on the spot

[mitsuristoleme]

Ayo it's me !

SO uhhh

Damn that's my first time requesting something and I'm actually nervous, so it's about that nightmare thing I talked about, so maybe I thought you could write something (like anything it can be very short), IF you can write for Choso (if you don't i get it) comforting reader after a very realistic nightmare and reader is still scared after waking up because it was basically taking place in that same room and still feels like they're in the nightmare (I don't know if it's clear, but basically waking up still scared and having trouble calming down and feeling reassured because what if it's real)

Rereading this I'm realizing it's confusing, but hopefully with that post you answered to you understand a bit ;; and if you don't write for Choso maybe you can do it with any other (adult) JJK character, I'd be fine with it!

hihi! sorry this took so long D:

i really hope i managed to write what you described

this is my first time writing choso (and anything nightmare related in general) so forgive me if he’s ooc😭😭 and im also sorry this is a bit short, ive been pretty swamped with finals

cw: nothing particularly??? reader has a nightmare, no pronouns used, not proofread

you shot up in bed scrambling for your glasses, your blanket pooling around your knees as cursed energy rushed to your raised fists, ready to fight.

“sweetheart?” came a rumbling voice from next to you, making you flinch.

“hey, hey, its just me. just choso. whats wrong honey?” your boyfriend’s words were followed by a warm hand gently tugging you back into a sleeping position.

he pulled your face into his chest, careful to not smoosh your glasses, a soothing hand running across your back.

“nightmare?”

you nodded, letting yourself fall limp in his hold, trusting choso enough to take care of any threat.

“you wanna talk about it baby?” he asked, as he leant back to look at you in the dim lighting provided by the barely cracked open door of the bathroom.

“not really.”

he hummed, gently taking your glasses off to rest them on the dresser on his side of the bed, switching on the lamp while he was at it.

“the light make you feel safer?”

“yeah”

you could tell he wanted to say something else, but you really didnt want to talk about the horror plaguing your dreams.

your bedroom was supposed to be your sanctuary and the stupid nightmare had ruined every ounce of safety you felt in your bed.

you tugged your boyfriend closer, hand reaching up to tangle in his hair, that he’d started letting down from his ponytails while slept.

he draped his arms around your waist protectively, something he did often, especially in public (you’d come to learn that he was incredibly protective of people he held close to his heart)

“i gotchu,” he mumbled into your hair.

you sighed shakily against the crook of his neck, a few tears escaping your eyes as the adrenaline wore off.

before you could register the loss of his warm hands from your waist, his thumb was gently wiping away the tears from your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

he held your face, thumbs catching the wetness as it fell, kissing you gently, and staying there until you stopped crying.

“cmere,” he said, rolling you over his chest to his side of the bed, further away from the door, “no facing the door tonight, ‘kay? we’ll keep the lamp on so its less scary for you, yeah sweetheart? and if you still cant fall asleep, ill stay up with you.”

you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“aht, aht. i dont need to sleep, and even if i did you’re more important. so shush and cuddle me.”

you smiled softly at him, making your way into his waiting arms.

“thank you choso.”

“anytime, love.”

please dont repost or copy my work without my permission

reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

check out my masterlist

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[mylordshesacactus]

I kept meaning to make a big cinematic post about this but didn’t have the energy, and the end result is that it didn’t get highlighted the way it deserved. So, shoutout again to Audie The Utility Wizard, for what was arguably the most clutch single spell in the entire Siege of Suncrest.

The scene, roughly: Andromeda, our paladin, is conscious but at a single hitpoint--I think Guard-Captain Olassa, herself a low-level paladin, got her up with a Lay On Hands but couldn’t do more, then retreated again to cover the breach.

So. Andromeda, not only a heavy-hitting tank but also the party’s only real healer, is at one hitpoint. She’d previously flown over the heads of the retreating party to get another party member out of danger, so she’s also alone.

She is also ten feet away from the advancing fae commander.

The fae commander has multiattack. Triple multiattack. She hits hard and well--counting on her missing her attack even once would require a disastrously poor roll on her part. Odds are very good that all of those blows would hit. She has also been established as methodical, unhurried, and incredibly fucking cruel. Everything she does is, functionally, a taunt. There is no way she won’t go for the barely-stirring, bloodied young paladin as viciously as possible.

Understandably, the party is panicked, and Audie’s player is frantically flipping through spells trying to find something that Audie can pull off with dwindling spell slots without killing Andromeda. The only thing that seems viable is one final casting of Banishment. It won’t fix everything--it’s been established that with the planes converging, fae don’t banish permanently, so she’ll be back in one minute--but it will buy them sixty seconds without the fae commander on the battlefield so Andromeda can run.

But the DC is not that high, the odds that it will fail are very good, and the fae commander’s turn is before Andromeda’s.

(I, the DM, am internally screaming and trying DESPERATELY to find a way to avoid going Full Mollymauk over here, but mostly trying to think of a way to deliver this death blow in a way that is respectful and meaningful to the character as well as how to talk the player through it in the aftermath. I was speedrunning some stages of grief, y’all, it was fucking OVER for Andromeda at this point.)

Audie, OOC: It just says ‘a creature within range’. DM: Yeah? Audie, OOC: ............Can I banish Andromeda?

That is EXACTLY what she does. Audie calls to Andromeda--who had at that point been failing death saves and was barely conscious--not to resist, then casts Banishment and snaps her into a safe, harmless pocket dimension. It’s concentration-based, and dropping concentration is free; so all she has to do once it’s Andromeda’s turn again is stop concentrating and we have our paladin back, ready to Run Like Fuck.

So like. EVERYTHING Andromeda does from here on out is the result of a single extremely clutch battlefield decision to use Banishment as a utility support spell, and not a combat spell.

Slow. Fucking. Clap.

[imagine-silk]

Pre itsv platonic yandere PB in ur most recent post hits different... sorry for rambling, but im like obssesed with this idea.

• maybe his object of affection is a friend's kid, who he helped raise. He's the coolest person ever in their eyes! He'd be there whenever he could when they were younger, and he still tries now that they're college age.

• but he slowly becomes more jaded and depressed from the stress of being spiderman, and then him and mj divorce.

•he's depressed, he can barely get out of bed nost days ... and his object of affection, worried about their family friend, starts to visit him nearly daily. It's little things, like helping him clean, or taking him out to get coffee, or just... talking. And Peter clings onto that kindness. This kid (they're college age, but they'll always be a kid to him) saves him in a way.

• its only fair that peter looks out for them all the same-- When he patrols, he follows the kid from a distance and makes sure to lead villians away from their part of town. And for a while, it's enough to just keep them safe as Spiderman, and peter is happy for the first time in so long.

•...and then the kid says they're moving out of state for college, and peter can't bear it. He's started to see this kid as his own, and all he can feel is betrayed. How could this kid leave like everyone else in his life? He wouldn't let that happen. Whether it be hiding their letter of acceptance or straight-up just locking them away in his apartment, he'd be keeping them close by. He's delusional enough that guilt evades him-# his kid loves him, right? They'll adjust eventually.

This is a little ooc but like ^^^ platonic yanderes r my passion + im a sucker for depressed yanderes who become obsessed over people who made their lives light up for the first time in ages.

》 That may be so but your OOC is welcomed. Honestly I love prompts like this cause I can get a different angle from what I typically imagine so this was real nice. So yeah, ramble all you like.

In high school he was your dad's best friend. And he had you at the age of sixteen. Shortly after Peter got bit. To say they were stressed was the biggest understatement in the world. They got through high school intact and went off to college while you were with your mother who was and is a fucking legend.

It took a few years to find out he wasn't actually related to you but he laughed and told you no one would ever want to drink blood so water wasn't bad. He always had a quip, was super strong, and he always seemed to know what to do. Having that thought consistently throughout your life had a big impact. You wanted him to be proud of you, you wanted to be him, and your dad laughed while he encouraged you. You would chase him across the world and further.

Looking back on it you realized he had his moments though. Sometimes he would get iffy and leave for a while only to come back like he didn't leave. When you were thirteen you visited him during one of his iffs. He told you to go home. When you were fourteen you did again. He told you to leave again. When you were sixteen he straight closed the door on your face after you said your piece.

Normally his episodes didn't last long, two weeks, maybe three if it was bad. You went over when it lasted a month. When he opened the door you shoved yourself in and said hi. That only took five years. He didn't force you to leave, he didn't have the energy to, but he told you to million times.

You looked around and then at him. He'd never been the cleanest person but the mess he had was almost impressive. But you weren't going to turn around, this was your moment to finally prove yourself as an adult. So you started picking things up and throwing it away while talking about nothing.

Watching you cleaning his mess and talk was the most horrible thing to see. It proved to him he was in such chaos you felt you needed to pick up after him. This shouldn't be happening, he should have handled it better. That was a bad thought and he knew it; no one would brush off people dying because you were too slow, no one should. But you didn't know that so he let you clean a bit and leave.

Having you shove yourself in the next day with a bag under your arm was also horrible, it was cleaning supplies. You still didn't go away when he said. You went around cleaning, you asked if he remembered when he taught you how to clean to get yourself out of trouble, to use bleach and made sure you didn't accidentally make mustard gas. He wondered if he was in hell, that he was to live a pitiful life with no way to fight it.

The next time he didn't open the door. You threatened to break down it down and he said have at it, and to not cry when you hurt yourself. You didn't cry when you hurt yourself, you came back the next day with a lockpick instead. At that point he accepted the idea he wasn't in hell. Then you saw his dishes weren't piling new ones. He didn't know if he was going insane while you cooked and cleaned or if he actually died while he wasn't looking.

You pushed him into the bathroom to get him to shower, when he couldn't get up you stayed and made him laugh with varying success, washed his clothes. He hated every second of it, hated that he was so useless you felt like you needed to do any of this.

Every new thing you found you stitched. It hurt but it made him better. He let you cook new things in his kitchen and take him out to coffee, all under the guise that he was doing you a favor of course. Before he knew it he let you in without a fight, his house was spotless in a way it never had been and you were visiting daily with a smile, he was smiling.

So he tried to return the favor. He stocked up on thing you wanted and liked, things to mess around with in the kitchen, those weird imported snacks you always got, even domestic things for the rare occasions you stayed over. And Spiderman did the same. Made sure you were unbothered when you were out and about, at the time he didn't realize he was punching harder. If a villain was in town he took the party elsewhere. He got used to this life.

His brain malfunctioned when he heard you applied for colleges out of state. Why would you go to Harvard? That was in Boston. California is just as bad if not worse than New York you know. There's nothing for you in Connecticut so there was no reason to apply for New Haven. He's lost a lot, aunt May is gone, his wife left him, he sees the people he can't save up close, Gwen. Now you were so close to slipping away.

You knew he'd be taken aback so you tried to reassure him by saying you weren't leaving them, him, and you'd come back every chance you got. He wanted to take that answer and leave but so many people have said that to him it was hard to. You brought him to tears and broke them with a hug and a key phrase, "I love you." How was he supposed to just let you leave?

The more he thought about it the more his mind swelled with looming regret. But then he visited you when you were opening your letter. Denied. You were frustrated and groaned it was the second letter you got, both denied. Under the excuse he was visiting to keep updated and the help of Spiderman your letters seemed to stop coming all together. No one knew where they went. He saw it as a job well done. You would get too upset to keep applying. Then you applied by email and explained to the recruiters what was happening. He couldn't stop that. A pile of letters in his closet for nothing.

There was so many things he could but he knew they would only go half way or not work at all. He couldn't just tell you no for so many reasons and threatening the recruiters would work but it would also be out in the open. However there was a way to keep you in Queens for sure and he had the energy to do it. Did it feel morally wrong? Yes, but the ends justify the means.

The next few days while he was getting everything ready he reminisced about your life. He asked if you remember how you would always ask him if he liked you're hair when it was obvious you did it by yourself, with too much gel or unnecessary accessories. Did you know he tried to take care of you by himself while you were just a few months old and you got sick, but you didn't really do anything other than sleep and spit to medicine out as much medicine as possible. You might not have remembered the time you were twelve and got lost so you called him to get you because you forgot your parent's number. And you took the stories. It was proof that he always paid attention to you and that's what you wanted, his approval, his pride.

You couldn't remember what you were doing, how far you got in the college process or if you were getting there but you remember having a drink with Peter. Something was wrong and you asked him to help you because you couldn't keep yourself up. When you woke up you were in his bed. Not very weird, it was a one bedroom apartment, what was was the restraint on your ankle connected to the bedpost. You called out for him and tried to get out of bed only to fall hard on the ground. The light from the hallway offended you and he was next to in a second.

You realized a few things; you were in pajamas, you were very weak and you throat was dry, but the worst thing was Peter not helping you the way he should. And his answers to your questions didn't nothing but tell you this was real. Never in a million lifetimes would you say he would be capable of doing this, or rather going through with it. You asked to leave and he said no.

You wanted to be there. You did anything you could to get in. You always said you'd be there for him so do it now. You love him don't you? You've never lied to him so you meant it. You love him. You don't need to leave ever. If he had to force it to happen he will.

[justmemethings]

Salty AF Mun’s PSAs

A collection of pet peeves & behaviours we hate to see in the RPC

#4: Showing interest in interacting doesn't just mean replying to threads

Lately there have been a few PSAs going around, stating that "lack of interaction ≠ lack of interest". This rule is both true and false, depending on one's definition of interactions and interest. I think that it's time to clear up the main points of the matter, to avoid misunderstandings and conflicts.

What are interactions?

If we look at the formal definition of the word, an interaction is defined as a "reciprocal action or influence" and "communication or direct involvement with someone or something".

So, "interacting" basically means reaching out to someone else, in any sort of way. It's not merely answering threads or asks or IMs, it can be something simpler and quicker, as liking a post or sending an ask. It's not just producing content yourself, it's helping others to do so.

I would also like to put an emphasis on the reciprocal part of the first definition, because this aspect is extremely important when it comes to RPing. Writing and interacting with someone is a two-way street. When the effort is one-sided, it becomes tiring and frustrating pretty quickly. No one should be surprised to see others' interest in you waning, when they are constantly doing all the work and making all the efforts.

What is showing interest?

For what concern interest, the word means "the feeling of wanting to know or learn about something or someone".

Once again, there are plenty of ways to show that you are invested in your mutuals' content. It's not necessarily be a constant and loud presence. An ask from time to time or a small comment or even just a like let your writing partners know that you are interested in them and their blog(s).

So, to sum up, how can I interact with others and show interest towards them?

Interacting and showing interest is extremely easy and, in some forms, it takes less than a minute. It takes the same time of reblogging a PSA and it takes much less time than writing a post to say that you're "sorry for the lack of activity / interactions".

If you're busy / if real life and mental health are kicking your ass / if you don't have the energy to do more than lurking / if inspiration has been too flaky to write threads, here's a list of things that you can do to show your mutual that you're still interested in engaging them:

Like their headcanons posts (and optionally leave a comment if you feel like)

Like their edits / art / graphics / things they make (again, if you can, leaving a comment is nice too)

Send them OOC memes (headcanon memes, mun memes, and any IC meme that it's not a starter meme) when you see them posting some

These simple, quick things can reassure your writing partners of your interest more than any PSA about how "lack of interaction ≠ lack of interest".

Take-home message

We all have a life outside the internet, responsibilities, work and / or school, health issues, difficulties of various kinds, and so on. This has, of course, to be respected. However, if you have the time to reblog a PSA or to make a post about how "you're not ignoring people, you're just busy", then you have the time to drop a like on a mutual's post / HC / edit / whatnot or to send in a non-interaction meme.

Being busy IRL is not a valid justification not to do this. It comes off as making excuses for your unwillingness to do the bare minimum and for being lazy.

[sungracd]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME : i've been going by kasumi for like ever lol, but just kas pls

PRONOUNS : she/her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : ims or discord are equally fine tbh but i'm equally slow either way

NAME OF MUSE(S) : adrian saint-clair, the one and only muse i have energy for :')

BEST EXPERIENCE : aaa i don't want to say 'best' because i'm really enjoying where i'm at right now but the memories that stick out to me most are when i was apart of a group. the tekken rpc here is still so friendly ♡ but before that i had a group of ff friends on a different site. maybe that's the joy of playing canon characters but unfortunately i'm probably sticking with this muse for a while sldkj adri has a chokehold on me-

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : i think the biggest dealbreaker is having a lot of negative/guilt trippy ooc. and idk if this one is a common belief so much these days or maybe just not around here but the whole elitist attitude of higher word count = better writing. omg did that mentality grind my gears lmao. also just being intolerant in general of people's ideas/portrayals/anything and feeling the need to express it rather than just walking away.

MUSE PREFERENCES : female or femme apparently lol. when i had a multi they were all female characters so yeah. idk what it is, maybe i just put way too much pressure on myself when it comes to male characters but i just can't feel comfortable writing them even though there's so many i love. 😭 i also can't do villains. i love morally gray and angst and even dark themes as long as it can be balanced out with fluff and comfort and sweet things.

PLOTS OR MEMES : as much as i appreciate the ease of memes, they're a hit or miss a lot of the time for me. i rarely post them much nowadays but i do still like to send them in for others! i feel a lot more comfy plotting something first, even if it's just the bare minimum cause i like the certainty of being on the same page and making sure we want to write the same ideas.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : both! i just write whatever i'm feeling at the moment really, sometimes that's something short and casual or more long and introspective.

BEST TIME TO WRITE : definitely in the morning, or generally anytime right after i wake up while my brain still feels refreshed and uncluttered.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : lol no. i mean we're both air signs so there's that, but adri is nice and outgoing and i'm more reserved and cautious. i think in a way writing them helps me to channel all the positive emotions i have a hard time expressing into something productive. c:

tagged by @ruinare ty! ♡ & tagging @zouin / @holyrisen / @deathsmaidens / @literanis / @rotdame / @killerhubby / @enypneon + anyone who wants it!

[clippedwingsmuses]

ooc: good morning, no icon bc i am. guh. i am so tired rn, but i had to give yall a psa update about stuff going on with me (since i just got back from my doc appointment)

basic tldr; my activity is most likely going to be even more sparse than it is for a while because i'm focused on my mental and physical health (working on regulating my bipolar disorder primarily), as well as some legal issues that i need to address; what activity i do have may be restricted to my current threads and i might not be making ooc update posts very frequently

full information (and miscellaneous ramble-venting) is under the cut

active muse check: surge, laurance, wanderer, kieran

(cw: mental health, general medical and legal talks, venting)

ooc: so breaking news, apparently it turns out my bipolar disorder might be the more major diagnosis between everything that i got checked out a couple weeks ago, i got prescribed some mood stabilizers so i should be getting them in tomorrow

im having to re-set up my insurance bc they fucked me over and cancelled it (we didn't get any of the documents that they were supposed to be giving us, and my acc on their website can prove we didn't receive them) so that's stressing me out

i also had to get bloodwork done today for whatever reason, going there and doing the bloodwork is what gave us the heads up that my insurance was cancelled so i guess i'm glad for it, but also we can't really afford to pay for the bloodwork rn (and barely if at all); i'm glad that i got it done so i can see if i have any physical issues to worry about, but at the same time that payment is gonna fuck us over for a little, cause we barely get by as it is

im also cramping which sucks!!!!! but that's small beans compared to everything else

i mean today already started off pretty shit for me, i only got about 4 hours of sleep cause my anxiety kept me up most of the night (who was surprised that would happen? not me) since i was stressing about the appointment (they're also still ignoring the potential that i could be neurodivergent, and i know damn well that i am, they just keep blaming my issues on everything else that's wrong with me, so that's stressing me out to a pretty strong degree too)

so yeah, considering all my mental health issues and the doctors visits ive basically been having nonstop for the last couple of weeks, my activity on this account is probably going to be even less than it already is; i've just got too much going on to put all my energy into fixating on writing, and even writing my novel is a chore that i've really had to trudge through the mud to finish (i'm still not even done with it)

i will still be around to write on here ofc, but i might restrict myself into not actively searching for any new rp partners for a while; i'm going to try spending my time relaxing and getting my shit sorted before i fully commit to being here as much as i have been. again, activity will still be here all things considered, but i might not be making very many ooc posts like i have been, and as far as dash shenanigans go i might be pretty quiet

my discord is open to mutuals if anyone wants to chat or discuss plots, and my ims on here will always be open as well

sorry for rambling and bitching so much on here i just like to keep yall informed, but yeah the tldr at the top basically explains all the important details outside of my rambling

[silly-little-soul]

Best of Men - Kaz Brekker

A/N - It's currently 8am, I spent the past hours writing this because sleep is overrated, I think it turned out quite well considering this is my first time writing for Kaz

A/N 2 – a week later now, I'm so sorry for the wait I decided to make it longer after all and then some stuff happened, nothing bad just time consuming I hope you enjoy anyways!

Also I'm still working on making a better post format I apologize

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fandom: Six of Crows

Format: oneshot

Type: comfort

Relationship: Kaz Brekker x Reader (romantic, established relationship)

Reader info: trans ftm, implied crow

Summary: Kaz comforting a trans-masc reader who feels dysphoric

Warnings: established relationship, gender dysphoria, mention of unintended misgendering, Kaz almost kills sb for like 0.5 seconds, emotionally dense Kaz, slightly OOC soft!Kaz, actually atp might as well just say Kaz in general is his own warning /hj

Proofread: Yes!

Word count: 1165

Requested: @alex-kazbrekkersimp

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  To say it was a bad day was an understatement. It was one of the days everything felt wrong, even more so than most days, and the nagging inside your own head just wouldn't seem to stop. You were familiar with these days of course but it didn't exactly make them easier. And just when you thought you managed to tuck the feeling away rater well you were tasked to show around some new Dregs who right of the bat made you feel even worse when by addressing you with feminine titles. You knew they had no ill intention but in your current state that was barely doing anything about the waves of dysphoria crashing down on you. After a moment you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't have the energy to correct them and risk conflict so you simply turned and left for your room without another word.

So here you are now, sitting on your bed with your head between your knees. You're sure Kaz will be rather upset at you for simply leaving the new Dregs but at least Jesper agreed to taking care of them when you ran into him on your way to your room meaning they wouldn't be unattended. You don't really have the mind to care about that currently anyways.

A knock snaps you back to reality. The door opens and you don't need to lift your head to know it's Kaz, the sound of his cane against the floor giving him away easily. “Y/N.” It comes out much harsher than intended and he winces at the “I know I shouldn't have left” you mumble quietly. „Y/N“. He tries again, his voice much softer this time, a tone he rarely uses (and if he does it's with you, always with you). You shake your head, refusing to look up at him.

With a sigh he sits on the bed next to you, he makes sure to keep a small distance so he doesn't risk you touching each other accidentally but the proximity itself is a sign of trust, something reserved for you and the crows, only the people he deems save. There's a minute of silence between the two of you before Kaz comes to the conclusion you won't be addressing the problem on your own accord. “Jesper made me aware of a.... situation.” You don't reply but the sniffle coming from where your head is still tugged away from view makes his grip on his cane tighten.

When Jesper told him about what happened he was about ready to go straight to the Dregs responsible and demonstrate to them why people feared Dirtyhands but he was stopped by Inej who suggested it'd perhaps be better to check up on you first, saying she'd handle them (though her definition of handling the situation was much calmer and more reasonable that Kaz's). Though reluctantly he ended up listening to his friends, not keen on breaking his promise of always being there shall you need him.

“Love.” The use of the pet name made you look up finally. Seeing the glossiness of your eyes he stretches out his hand, deciding last second to lay it right next to yours instead of risking trying to put it on top. “I won't say I know how you're feeling as I know I never will but please be aware that whenever you need me I'm right there by your side..” He looks down at your almost touching hands for a moment, trying to find more he could say to comfort you. To his relief though you speak up this time. “Sometimes it.... it just feels like no matter how hard I try I can't seem to be enough of a man.” You cure yourself silently for the way your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, pushing your head back in its old position. Meanwhile Kaz could swear he can feel something chipping away at his heart with how sure you sound of something that is not only hurting you but blatantly false.

“I might not know how you're feeling.... but I know there's voices.” He let's his gloved hand hover above yours, hoping his words are ones good enough. “Voices inside your head and heart, voices that seem to come from everywhere and sometimes even the voices of other people. They're telling you lies and things you don't deserve.” He finally seems to have won the battle he silently had with himself as he let's his hand rest on yours lightly. “Listen to mine instead.”

You look up fully this time to see Kaz already looking at you, eyes filled with rare emotion. “You are without question the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes upon. Absolutely dashing, stronger than anyone I've ever known, so stunningly brave. I know many men who think of themselves as powerful, strong, the best and I can guarantee you none of them stand a chance against you. You think you need to 'try' as to be a man but you are already more man than they will ever be. You're man at heart, something I believe most of them do not possess in the first place.” Relief washes over him when you puff out a small laugh at his joke. He lifts his hand from yours again, his gaze however stays fixated on you.

You take a few seconds to take in what just happened, Kaz's words having been uncharacteristically sweet, almost shockingly so. A warmth spreads inside both your chest and cheek. While you're still processing his words Kaz gets up from your bed, returning moments later with a tissue and the glass of water you had left on the little table in your room this morning, both of which you gratefully accept.

“I don't give a damn about who or what you were said to be much over a decade ago. I care about the beautiful, perfect man you grew up to be that I have the privilege of getting to spend my life with. No matter what anyone says. You'll always be you, the most incredible man to exist. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Matthias, Wylan, all of them would never see you as anything less, they all love you.” He lifts his hand again, resting it on your cheek carefully. “I love you.” It's barely above a whisper, the words still hard for him to get out even after all this time but the faint smile on your face shows him you heard him fine as he removes his hand again. “I know I don't say it as much as you deserve but I'm so very lucky to have you by my side. The best of boyfriends and best of men.”

Kaz Brekker wasn't one to let his affection show often but if it meant he could have the man he loved smile at him as strikingly as you did right now maybe he'd consider doing it more often.

<3

[darkestrellar]

I saw a post on dash that was about matching people's energy and about if the op feels like the other side is lacking interest or being quiet that they give them space and it's ok to drift apart

While I understand this point, it reminded me that I'm often worrying about if others will misunderstand my own keeping to myself as lack of interest (which is why I have things in my rules about it)

So on that matter

If I'm quiet or slow, that's not because I'm not interested. If I take a while to reply to you or I barely message you, you're not special, it's not an indicator of interest, I do this to basically everyone. I have problems getting thoughts out of my head a lot of the time, I often need to think a lot before I can reply, and I'm also forgetful. I'm not very chatty; I may have exactly 1 person I talk to regularly at a time.

I mean it when I say that ooc chatting doesn't come easily to me. Please do understand it to the extreme. (If I must explain "why", I understand now it's probably because of my autism. Pushing myself to be more Interactive only either significantly ups my anxiety or makes me crash into an even more unresponsive lump later.)

It sucks because most people like engaging with people who are all Hiii HI omg yippee better than ones who are like 🧍‍♂️. This is also why I try to interact more on the dash, make and like ooc posts and send asks and stuff, and why I tend to take interaction within tumblr (likes, comments on posts, asks) as more of an indicator rather than how much we're messaging ooc.

I really do get quite scared about this.