#proceeds to get distracted reading the whole thing

[aria0fgold]

Me to Mahoyaku: I just wanna consume stuff

Also me: creates a messy google docs presentation of my favourite ship

[cheswirls]

hhhhhhhhhhhh saboace royalty au. ace was crown prince but can’t use magic which is necessary to become king, so he renounces his title and becomes infamous for his eccentric tendencies to play up the illusion that he’s truly not meant for the throne and that his younger sibling has full rights to the title of heir.

sabo is born to a family serving in the royal court, has been a genius magician since he was a child, and is the perfect example of a young man fully educated to serve at the king’s side. which is why he’s allowed himself to be tied down into a loveless political engagement with the king’s heir, putting the whims of his family before his own and resigning himself to become the future ruler’s consort/spouse to legitimize his role as an advisory right-hand man.

but then the heir grows rebellious and denounces the engagement with sabo in public and ace swoops in to save the day (and sabo’s reputation), demanding his father give sabo to him instead. he steals sabo away and challenges his sibling’s right to the throne, intent on earning back the title not for himself, but so he can make sabo (who is heavily qualified to rule) the king - and since they’ll be wed, no one will be able to undermine sabo’s position as he will technically be part of the monarchy that governs the kingdom.

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[silentgravesdontexist]

Its...Zoro we're talking abt here. I feel like he doesn't even know what skincare means. That's why you (force to) do it for him!

Roronoa Zoro x GN!Reader

CW: Suggestive Content (sitting on his lap)

Word Count: 300+

Either extremely dry or oily skin. No in-between. Does not know nor care what skincare is. The man rarely takes a bath, you expect him to know what skincare is? No.

"Hah? A skincare routine? What's that?" Was all he said. And that was the last straw for you.

You're hauling him to the bathroom. Glaring at him when he protests. He knew that look on your face. So, he caves in and lets you do as you please (as he should).

Complains and protests leave his lips the entire time. Both of you are bickering over the whole thing and barely get anything done. With an annoyed groan, you sit on his lap. This immediately shuts him up.

Now, you have his attention and silence. One hand rests on your thigh while the other rests on your hip. He's so distracted by you sitting on his lap that he lets you do whatever you want to his face.

You scold him for not listening when you were explaining something about skincare. There's that annoyed look on your face. He lets out a sigh and leans back on the chair.

Starts listening to you properly while you do his skincare. Humming in agreement as you explain the importance of each product to him. That's when he starts to pay attention to your touch.

Oh, you've always been gentle with him like this even when you're annoyed. He adores it so much. Leaning into your touch and stares at you. There's a touch of softness in his gaze.

You ask him again if he's even paying attention. He leans in, pulling you a bit closer to him, and presses a kiss to your lips. Then, proceeds to repeat everything you just said to him before kissing you again.

"I'm listening," He'll say with a surprising touch of affection. It makes you blush on his lap a bit. It makes him smirk.

His hand starts to trail patterns across your back while you finish up on his skincare. He starts to ask some questions about it like he's starting to be more curious and even interested in it.

Okay, he may look like he doesn't care. But he will do the skincare routine you gave him religiously. If he forgets something, he'll go find you to ask with a face that looks like he's scowling, but you know he's actually a bit shy and flustered about it.

~~~~

If you liked this and wanna read more, here's my masterlist!

[johnpriceslamb]

heyy is it okay if u maybe due a little story of arthur morgan?? i jus love him sm

arthur comes back to camp after a job in a bad angry mood since it didnt go to plan then the reader (being his sweetheart gf) cheers him up :(🩷 -🎀

𝓐𝓛𝓦𝓐𝓨𝓢 𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓡 , ˗ˏˋ 🍓 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ꒰ The obvious annoyance which swelled in his stomach almost dies instantly when he makes eye-contact with you. ꒱ ˎˊ˗

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┆female ! reader . hyper-fem ! reader . Arthur Morgan is a die-for 4 his sweetheart gf . OOC ! Arthur Morgan . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than character mentioned below . not proof-read . 1.0k wrdz

꒰ arthur morgan x fem ! reader . ꒱

Muddy, wet, icky.

Sweat easily adheres to his already warm skin, rolling down the creases on his forehead and clinging to the ends of his hair. His clothes are attached to his sweat-stained skin, rusty spurrs jingling loudly with the leading sounds of water-filled boots. The sun glares down at him, taunting him even, to make his day even more miserable as it scorches the back of his neck because of the hat; lack thereof- lost from travelling back.

He’ll go find for it soon enough. Just not now.

It’s unlikely for a usual stagecoach robbery to go wrong, he’s done this many times before. Maybe he was starting to feel the effects of ageing. But somehow, things went south a bit too quickly and the man ended up in.. water. With many dead bodies floating around, and cash that wasn’t even worth it at the end.

Just thinking about that whole situation almost makes a vein pop in his head.

A grunt and a low huff escapes his chapped lips when entering the vicinity of the camp. The same water-filled boots squeak each step he took as he storms back to his bed-roll. Everyone knew he was in a bad mood, despite being far away.

Unfortunately for him, someone could not take the hint.

Miss Grimshaw.

“Mister Morgan.” She greets.

“..Miss Grimshaw.” He grunts, wiping the mud off his face just to seem less.. bearable to look at.

The older woman stares down at him for a while, sizing him up with narrowed eyes. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been putting money in the camps communal funds for a very long time.” She prods at him.

She does not leave any room for him to reply back with just one simple glare. Arthur is smart enough to let out a low sigh and nod at her words mindlessly, not really paying attention. Said-woman sneers at him as she usually does with the others. The sight of the mud coated on his garments caused the wrinkles on her cheek to crease further, furrowing her brows in disdain.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” She flails her arms around, “A grown man covered in crap like this—” Her hand is raised, but with a light tap on her shoulder from behind comes the reluctancy of lowering her hand down to peer whom distracted her.

A meek, soft voice from behind immediately catches his attention, “Miss? Ive finished folding your clothes.”

Her attitude does a huge spin. She’s softer now, bickering to herself before mumbling a ‘thank you, dear.’ You tell her that you’ve set it by her bed-roll, to which she nods and walks away, leaving you with the man whom seemed like he was about to burst from irritation. He swore you were some kind of angel in disguise, how you manage to make her soften up just a bit is beyond his comprehension.

His eyes land on yours. It was almost like a non-verbal way of saying ‘thank you’ from practically losing the beast.

You look up at him with those familiar beady eyes, a small smile etched on your face as you eagerly come closer to him. Almost immediately do you feel the aura he radiated- tired, exhausted, angry.. and most importantly, wants to be comforted.

“Oh, dear..” You pity him akin to a pup getting kicked. The way his muck-covered clothes wiped a bit of grime on yours is something you don’t question, “Are you—

You don’t have time to say your full sentence. He’s grabbed you by the waist and easily pulls you to his tent. A soft squeal escapes your lips at the sudden movements, eyes widening at how quick he was.

And you’re squished to his chest, practically glued to him as he wraps his arms around you. The muck is easily visible on your clean dress, but did you mind? No.

You loosen up in his tight hold, placing your chin on the curve of his neck. Your finger-nails drag up and down on his back, drawing little patterns and shapes. Despite being absolutely humid, Arthur doesn’t let that become an obstacle when being with you.

Your serenade-like voice pulls him back to reality, sleepy eyes staring down at yours.

“Was it that bad?” You unconsciously touch his growing stubble, noting to yourself to cut it later. He leans into the palm of your hand, nodding wordlessly.

“Bad don’t even manage to describe the hell I went through today.” He squishes you tighter like a stuffie. He buries his face in your shoulder, the faint scent of pinewood and cinnamon invading his nose- and gosh was it such an addicting smell. He notices the simple bow you adorned in your hair, and the little bow sewed to your top. He noticed every single thing, despite feeling like he’s about to burst.

Slowly but surely, did the irritation fade away from his stomach as he holds you closely.

“‘M sorry to hear,” You apologised, frowning at the sight of your beloved so worked up. Sometimes, he wondered how the hell you even manage to be apart of this gang, “D’ya wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head with a low grunt, “Nah. Just wan’ be near you.”

The layers-upon-layers of light pink coloured frills covered his lap as you were plopped on him. He mindlessly fiddles with the pretty design, sighing loudly.

“‘M always here to talk to, y’know?” You press a kiss on his cheek.

“I know.” He sighs, cuddling you closely. You really were an angel.

“I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles quietly. You squint your eyes at his own comments, clearly not like it.

“You do.”

A moment of quiet and peace between the two of you, his hand affectionately squeezes yours as a way to comfort himself more than you.

Suddenly, the realisation hits you.

“..Arthur, think you ‘n’ I needa get a bath after this.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hello, Sea, how are you? I hope your migraine is gone and you're fully recovered from it 💖

If you don't mind me being super self indulgent, I really sad at the moment, so I'll ask how hotd boys would try to cheer wife if she was down.

Thank you for sharing your qork with us, it always make me happy to read

I'm doing much better now thanks! Unfortunately I'm just someone who gets migraines occasionally and there's not much I can do about them, but I'm feeling much better.

Anyway, I love this question! I'm gonna write a little bit about our three main lads. This whole answer was supposed to be SFW but then I reached aegon and well... he's Aegon. So needless to say, I've had to put a cut in

JACAERYS:

So the first thing to note about Jace is how good his memory is? He always remembers all the things you tell him. He takes careful note of the things you like and the things you don't, and also he learns how you act when you're upset and what can upset you.

So he will notice almost immediately when you're feeling down and he will always try to help. Jace just wants you to be happy and healthy and so he will literally drop whatever it is that he's doing to try and help you. And if someone else needs him to be doing something else, he will distracted the entire time because he can't stop thinking about you and about what he can do to try and help you.

His go to method is to bring you your favourite flowers or wine or treats or whatever. If there's anything you have mentioned you really like in the past few weeks then he'll make sure to get that as well. He also just won't leave your side? Sure you can be in a bad mood and sulk all day if you want, but you certainly can't do that alone he won't let you.

AEMOND:

So I actually think realising you're feeling down would be genuinely distressing for Aemond? Especially if it's something he has absolutely no control of. He has no idea what to do, no idea how to make this better. His entire being is centred around making you happy and pleasing you and now you're upset and he feels like he failed. Even if whatever is upsetting you has absolutely nothing to do with him and can't be changed, he'll still feel like a failure.

He usually ends up asking you what you need. He would do whatever you want to make this better. No request would be too big. He would make anything work to make you happier. And you do have to actually give him something to do because if you don't he will be paralysed and not know what to do.

Needless to say, if he thinks there's even the smallest chance of someone having caused your distress then that person's days are numbered.

AEGON:

The moment Aegon realises you arent as happy as you usually are, he immediately asks you who needs to die. You always just roll your eyes and make him promise he won't set the kings guard on anyone, but he still might do it anyway.

When you inform him that no, he can't just murder every person to mildly inconvenience you, he sighs and then proceeds to promptly ask you if he can go down on you. Aegon's horny little gremlin mind literally goes, "Oh I can't kill someone? Fine, can I eat you out?"

Aegon will try his best to help in his own chaotic little way. Of course he will ask you what's wrong and listen to you, but to be honest he's one of the worst people to vent to. You'll say someone is making your life difficult and aegon is just like 'oh I'll have them killed' like no, no aegon don't do that.

Oh and also, he will cancel his appearances that day without a second thought if you're distressed. He could not care less about all the lords and ladies who travelled far and wide to see him, his pretty wife is upset so obviously the entire kingdom must come to a standstill until you feel better.

[hard-core-super-star]

i have to put a trigger warning to this request, im sorry if it triggers something, it was not my intention, lots of love.

heyy, may I request something like a reader who has depression and is struggling in being clean and just want to relapse in old bad habits of self harm but doesn't say anything to Kate because she doesn't want to disappoint her. but in the end Kate finds out anyway because she knows the reader like the palm of her hand and yeah, free choice for the ending!!

when it rains [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: when the threat of relapsing rears its head, kate does her best to support you...even when you try to push her away.

warnings: depressive episode; mentions of self-harm/relapsing; references to anxiety/struggles with spiraling thoughts; hurt/comfort + hopeful/happy ending; kate being nervous but supportive

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i was working on the next part of vampire!kate when i got hit with a random burst of inspiration to write this request. i wrote it pretty much in one sitting so forgive me for the messiness. this is a pretty heavy topic so read at your risk and keep the warnings in mind! there aren't any super explicit descriptions of things but proceed with caution if you find this topic triggering. thank you for the request and for your patience, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

In hindsight, the signs that something was wrong were obvious.

You should have picked up on them immediately but you were too distracted by the world around you to notice what was going on inside your inner world. Realistically, there were a hundred reasons for your slip of mind and yet, the only thing you could blame was yourself.

You and your lack of focus. 

You and your constant need for external factors to take away feelings you should be capable of working through on your own.

The list of habits to blame for the sudden breakdown of your mental fortitude was shockingly long, in your opinion. 

You probably should have told Kate about your increasingly anxious and self-deprecating thoughts but you foolishly believed you could handle it on your own. 

Plus, she was busy. Too busy to get caught up in issues she ultimately didn’t care about.

At least, that’s what you told yourself…which just made your thoughts worse. 

A part of you knew the archer cared, of course she cared, she had spent the first month since you moved in with her bringing you random gifts after every night of crime fighting. It bordered on ridiculous, especially since there were only so many places to put flower vases, but it showed just how much your girlfriend cared for you. How much she thought of you.

How much she worried for you whether she was next to you or a whole city away.

It’s a thought that usually reassures you. One that reminds you of the love you have for each other. 

The more your thoughts turned sour, though, the more that love turned into a weapon. It forced you to retreat, to pull away from the archer while pretending like the distance you were putting between you wasn’t killing you inside. 

But being alone only made everything worse. And suddenly, the fear of disappointing Kate suffocated you every waking hour.

It didn’t make sense and yet here you are, home alone, hiding in the bathroom, and gripping the sink so hard that your knuckles had turned white a while ago. At least the uncomfortable feeling in your hands had kept you from doing something you really, really, shouldn’t do.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, frowning at the face that stares back at you. It’s hard to see anything besides the dark bags under your eyes and the exhaustion that’s so clear in every single one of your features.

A sigh leaves your lips as your mind drifts to the razors in the sink cabinet. Your hand is already so close to the cabinet door and the urge to do something you won’t be able to take back rises to the forefront of your mind.

No amount of deep breaths are able to ground you enough for your thoughts to change. Your hand moves a few inches when you suddenly hear the front door slam shut. Some of Kate’s bad habits were also your best allies in moments like this.

You move faster than you can even comprehend, turning the lock on the door and shuffling as far away from the door as you possibly can. You sit on the ground right as footsteps near the bathroom door.

“y/n?”

Her voice startles you despite how soft it sounds. There’s nothing but affection in her tone and yet alarm bells ring in your mind. You almost suffocate under the overwhelming need to run away, to hide, to disappear. 

Your intentions must be obvious despite your silence since she knocks on the door once more. There’s an urgency to her movements that you can’t quite explain. It’s almost like she’s afraid of you slipping away.

The mere thought makes guilt rise up like bile in your throat.

“Love?” She tries once more, her voice uncharacteristically calm. “Can you please open the door?”

You want to do it, you really do, but your whole body feels heavier than ever. No amount of effort or inner screaming gets your limbs to move even though all you really want right now is the archer standing patiently on the other side of the door.

You really don't deserve her.

The door slams open at the exact second your thoughts grow dark once more. 

The sound causes you to jump, your arms instinctively wrapping around your knees and bringing them further against your chest. Almost as if it’ll truly make you disappear so you won’t have to face the disappointment you know will be hiding in the depths of Kate’s concerned eyes.

“Sorry, I got too impatient to pick the lock,” she says, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. 

You almost want to laugh. Only Kate could be so awkwardly charming at a time like this. Despite her charming act, it’s obvious she’s nervous and more than a little out of her depth. You’d feel bad about it if you weren’t in the same boat as her.  

“Um…” Your eyes lift up from your knees to her face, silently watching while she struggles to put her thoughts into words. “Is it okay if I sit next to you?” 

The answer is obvious to you and yet you still hesitate. Not because you don’t want her around but because you’re afraid of how you’ll act. Of the weird mix of frustration and desperation that make up your inner world right now.

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

Kate wastes no time in coming closer to you. A cynical part of you hates the way she looks at you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. You know it’s unfair, especially since she’s simply concerned for your well-being, but you can’t change your thoughts. You’ve already spent most of the day trying and failing miserably.

True to her word, Kate simply sits next to you, her side barely brushing up against you. It’s enough of a reminder that she’s physically with you without her running the risk of overwhelming you with more contact than you’re ready for. 

You know her just as well as she knows you, though, and your eyes zero in on her fidgeting hands. It’s almost like you can see the struggle in her motions. The aching need to reach out and touch you, to make sure you’re truly safe.

Ultimately, she doesn’t move. And neither do you.

For the first time in a long time, Kate doesn’t rush. She doesn’t question things or make one of her badly-timed but well-intentioned jokes. 

She just…sits there. 

Waiting. 

Silently watching over you in a wordless expression of her support and love for you. 

It’s more beautifully emotional than you were prepared for and you’re almost not sure what to do.

Until, eventually, you find some sense of calm. You grasp onto it quicker than your mind can even handle and finally…you’re able to move again.

It’s a subtle, almost slow, movement but Kate picks up on it pretty much instantly. You extend your arm out toward her and she gently holds the back of your hand while lifting the sleeve of your hoodie up. The audible sigh of relief she lets out makes your heart clench.

She doesn’t question you in any way but you decide to speak up. Maybe a part of you needs to hear the words out loud too.

“My other arm is clean too,” you mumble. “I…I’m still clean.”

She brings your arm up until she’s able to press soft kisses all over the inside of your wrist. “What you are is strong.”

You can’t help but scoff. The knowledge that she means well does little to soothe the disdain that’s made a home in your stomach. “That’s not true.”

The tone your voice carries startles her enough for her to change her approach. It’s not one she particularly wants to employ but she figures it’s better than arguing. 

“Of course it’s true,” she responds. “I know you’ve been struggling all week, y/n. Surviving that takes more than just luck.”

Her words leave no room for arguing so all you can do is huff in response. Your obvious frustration does little to deter her and she continues to caress your wrist. You don’t miss the way she lingers over the few faded scars that remain etched into your skin.

The affection soothes you somewhat which only brings back the thoughts that had sent you down this spiral in the first place. 

“I want to do more than just survive,” you whisper. “I want to live, Kate. Without feeling so…helpless all the time.”

“Babe…” She sighs.

Your body tenses up as you prepare yourself for the disappointment that is sure to follow. 

Who are you to complain? The only thing standing in your way is yourself and yet you have the nerve to act like it’s the end of the world. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you can’t function like a normal person. 

You expect her to verbalize your own thoughts, to prove that all your doubts were correct, that you deserve to feel this way after all. It’s an extremely unrealistic expectation considering who Kate is but you can’t stop yourself from wanting to be proven right. 

To be given a reason for wanting to disappear.

There’s nothing the archer loves more than proving you wrong, though.

“y/n, surviving is a part of living,” she says, her voice soft yet more serious than you’re used to hearing her. “I know it probably doesn’t feel like that right now but pushing through is the first step to living. You just have to take it step by step…and you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you, if and when you want me.”

Kate’s never been known for being particularly good at saying the right thing at the right time but today…her words seem to ease some of the weight you’ve been carrying lately. Maybe it’s not much but it’s certainly a start.

“I do want you here,” you find yourself saying. “I just…I don’t know why it feels easier to push you away.”

“Because you’re scared, darling. You don’t want me to leave so you walk away first. I do the same thing, y’know?”

You can’t help but scoff. If there’s one thing Kate doesn’t know how to do is walk away when she really should. It would be infuriating if it didn’t work out in her favor most times. Hence how she ended up as Hawkeye in the first place. “Literally when have you done that?”

“Before I met you.” She playfully bumps your shoulder with her own. “It wasn’t exactly my charm that made me a heartbreaker.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “Please, Kate, you’ve always been too oblivious to be a heartbreaker on purpose.”

“Okay, ouch. I am not oblivious.”

Instead of arguing with your stubborn girlfriend, you simply lean closer to her and rest your head on her shoulder. Her arm instantly wraps itself around you to pull you even closer.

The physical comfort helps to ground you and little by little, your bad thoughts stop looking so overwhelming. It’s a small step but it’s a step forward and with Kate by your side, the path to recovery doesn’t seem so bad.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Raven! Besterd fox maen is comin' XD

Onto the event! Since I know it'll happen, gonna beat everyone to it: Headcanons about Tsum!Fellow and possibly a Tsum!Giddle~?

Curiouser and Curiouser.

Fellow Honest

What’s this? A marketable (and sentient) plushie made in his own likeness? Of course Fellow’s going to nab his tsum self and try to auction it off for a quick buck! … But somehow, it always comes back to him and an angry customer comes with it, accusing him of scamming them.

Other scams Fellow and his tsum pull together include him distracting a target while the tsum fishes in their pockets for valuables, running a roadside show (come watch the tsum bounce and twirl its cane), and selling a spell that brings inanimate objects to life (pretending to demonstrate with the tsum). They walk away with a decent amount of cash for their efforts.

Tsum!Fellow has the smallest pair of glasses you ever did see. It doesn’t always wear them, but whenever it does you notice it is trying to read a teeny tiny book upside down and lecture.

Tsum!Fellow stares at its larger counterpart when he has food on him. Fellow will insist it’s HIS grub and that the tsum should get its own, but soon enough he caves and breaks off a small piece for his little buddy to enjoy with him.

Like Fellow, the tsum loves apples! If you give it a fresh fruit, it’ll zoom around it in circles, shaving away at the flesh until there’s nothing left but the core. (Epel has deemed it an apple-eatin’ termite.)

Normally the tsum is docile but it puffs up at anger when it’s looked down on (particularly by rich or influential people). When that happens, tsum!Fellow swells really big and proceeds to crush foes with its great size.

Tsum!Fellow knows how to make a quick getaway. When there’s someone chasing after it, it throws sand or dirt (or even confetti or glitter from under its hat) in their face before skedaddling. It’s not above using cheap tactics if it nets results!

Tsum!Fellow gets all sparkly-eyed when it sees a stage, whether it’s on TV or it’s a real one. It gets excited and tries to hop on to put on a performance of its own!

There’s something a little childish and carefree about tsum! Fellow. It loves hitching rides in pockets or on heads, treating them like their own amusement park rides. It also loves seating itself on toy traits, boats, and cares, imagining itself traveling the world and having grand adventures!

Tsum!Fellow is quick to cozy up to anyone it thinks will benefit it. For this reason, you’ll see it snuggling up to dorm leaders, the staff, the headmaster, even you! It nuzzles against your hand and makes puppy-dog eyes until you melt in its flimsy hands.

While Fellow mends his suit and pants, tsum!Fellow likes to dive in the fabric and swim around in it. It gets in the way of his work, so Fellow fishes the tsum out and appoints it the role of being his pincushion. (The tsum is very grumpy about this and they get into a whole squabble about it.)

Gidel

It’s rare to see tsum!Gidel by itself. It’s normally tagging along with tsum!Fellow as a minion or a helper in some of its tricks. If the two are ever separated, they’ll both appear slightly distressed and will try to seek the other out.

It’s curious about so many things. Tsum!Gidel bounces around in a hyperactive manner, making it quite difficult to contain. It displays a special interest in school, hopping among stacks of books and forgotten pencils, scaling them to see how high up it vanishes climb.

Gidel and his tsum self can communicate effectively, despite neither of them being able to speak. They’re great about reading body language and anticipating what’s to come next from the other. It’s almost like they’re finishing each other’s sandwiches sentences.

Tsum!Gidel is very clumsy. It’s a normal occurrence for it to fall onto its face or to roll and roll until it makes contact with something sturdy. It doesn’t quite have its footing down yet…

Of course, it comes with its own little hammer! The hammer seems light and makes a little squeaky sound when tsum!Gidel bonks the back of your hand with it.

When the tsum gets scared, it scurries into Gidel’s oversized sleeves. It won’t come back out again until it’s completely sure the danger has passed. (Occasionally you’ll see it poking its round little head out and checking the area.)

It attempts to tie Gidel’s laces for him since they’re tend to be loose. Unfortunately, the tsum ends up getting knotted in the laces and Gidel has to spend 20 minutes untangling the poor thing!

Gidel didn’t realize the tsum was sentient at first. He popped it into his mouth thinking it was a bread roll or a fancy marshmallow. The tsum had to squirm and fight for its life to escape the jaws of death!

They’re study buddies! Gidel and his tsum copy down letters of the alphabet together, then exchange notebooks and check each others’s work. It’s harder for Gidel to understand tie tsum (maybe on account of the notebook being so small), so he takes the mantle and tutors his new buddy.

Sometimes the tsum takes on a size closer to that of a stuffed plushie. In those instances, Gidel fiercely hugs them close. There’s a comforting sensation in owning an item for just pleasure, not solely for one’s survival—the life that Gidel is so used to.

Tsum!Gidel assumes a bigger form and allows Gidel to use it as a pillow at night. The boy had never been able to sleep on something this squishy and soft—is it really okay for him to fall asleep like this?

[etoilesbienne]

starhalo makes me crazy. it was bbh's only non-hate based ship for MONTHS because they both understand and read each other like nobody else. etoiles straight up told him "if you make an enemy of the island i'll defend you"/"do whatever you want but promise you wont betray me" when he figured out bbh was doing something fucked up. he eventually gets told bbh was torturing a fed worker and his disappointment is that bbh didn't include him on it. and then realizes bbh was dropping hints to him about it the whole time. and proceeds to distract a guard for like 45 minutes while bbh attempts to set up a second worker kidnapping.

then they hit purgatory and bbh betrays etoiles, not by killing him, no, but by hiding his actual pvp skills that aren't as obvious when in proposed matches that are for fun. etoiles doesn't defend him against the whole island when he's made an enemy of the island because bbh has betrayed him, breaking the promise. it becomes a game of the hunt and hunter where each of them switch out who is the predator and who is the prey continuously.

and then purgatory ends and etoiles is with bagi trying to help bbh with his new memory loss, giving him the idea for the one thing that did help with his memory: journaling. they're back to square one, and there's no hate or animosity between them.

[burning-academia-if]

MC challenges the ROs to a game of strip poker. Who is winning, who is losing, and who is losing on purpose? Crushing and/or dating)

Under a read more for mild nsfw

Rook: He's way too competitive to not win. Like head empty no thoughts kind of competitive that it doesn't even really register you're losing clothes until you're pretty much only in underwear and then it hits him. Like oh, you're both really doing this. Hard to play casual and unaffected when he's half naked. Hard for his eyes not to stray when you're right there.

Beck: He has no strong preference for winning or losing, and would just let it play out to its natural conclusion. Whoever wins or loses doesn't matter, he just likes to see how you get a little more affected each time he loses another article of clothing

Rhea: It probably took a lot of convincing and maybe a little alcohol to convince her to go along with it. She's also losing severely because she's so distracted and embarrassed and paying no attention. She'll be down to nothing by the time you've finally lost even a shirt.

Zoe: You probably blackmailed them or something to get them to agree to this lmaO. Incredibly determined to win this, and manages to get by very well. Until they release that, oh no, that means you're the one losing clothes and somehow that isn't much better. They try to keep their head down, but they can't help but follow your movements every time you take off something new.

Lars: He's also competitive, but he probably plays it casual the first few rounds to give you false confidence. Once you think you've got him, he proceeds to win almost every round to the point you think he's cheating. He only gives you a half smile and tells you you've lost another round. Time to take off the last remaining thing on you.

???: They lose on purpose and they turn the whole thing into a show. Pretends they have no idea a single rule of poker and plays into it with every loss. At some point, they're teasing laugh and the way they slowly take off their clothes makes you catch on. If you try to confront them they'll only laugh, "Does it matter? I can tell you're enjoying the show."

[oldjws]

i am the percy jackson show’s biggest defender bc fuck all those MILLENIALS complaining about a KIDS show?? this isn’t for you babes its made mainly for the younger generation 😭😭🙏

��the pacing is too fast” so were the books.

“it’s so different from the books, i wanted it exactly like them” of course it’s different the first book wasn’t written with the other 5 books and the following spin offs in mind, so now they’re including details that help expand the world with regards to the whole story + it would be boring if we got a 1:1 retelling of the book like just read the books if that’s the story you want?? 😭

“annabeth is NOT annabeth” yes she literally is pls rmbr that annabeth and percy had a rocky start and they are literally 12!!!

“too much tell and not show” well yeah so were the books 💀 mind you percy’s very new to this world he doesn’t have much pre-existing knowledge other than the stories and so ofc the fastest way to develop the world is by telling, that’s why it’s much easier to show than tell in later books when the readers/watchers alr know so much about how things work so it doesn’t have to be said

“percy’s too serious” he literally makes the best sarcastic comments every episode; the books were written in his perspective, and all his best moments were in his head (which ofc is hard to show), other tv show/movie characters don’t make as many jokes as percy does here idk what ppl are going on about

“they ruined the lotus casino scene, the kids were supposed to have fun” the proceeds to say “where is the sense of urgency!!” now this is so contradicting. you want them to have fun but be urgent?? make it make sense 😭 but yes i would’ve loved to see them get a little distracted, but i loved the scene regardless

the show isn’t perfect, but it’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be 😕

[year2000electronics]

I was thinking about this for a little bit but what would happen if Reverse Mabel (especially post-weirdmageddon) meets Anti-Mabel.

Seeing some call Reverse Mabel "evil" I feel this would be a very intresting interaction, Reverse Mabel may see her as someone she could of easily become.

ahh, the "anti" dimension. i ruminated on the concept a LOT back when lost legends first released! i think theres an amateurish fic i wrote somewhere in my files of anti-mabel getting basically-adopted by a one of us au ford BUT I CANT FIND IT.

excuse the opportunity im taking to rant about the idea of anti mabel as a whole lol, but... [continued under cut!]

her dimension is a little confusing to think about sometimes, because the story she comes from, don't dimension it, i think a lot of us can widely agree was almost too much of a "pivot" in a direction we didnt really need to go? it's focusing on addressing mabel's "selfishness", especially in the wake of that flood of mabel hate that started picking up steam, but i feel like the version of mabel that exists in don't dimension it is just... not very true or accurate to the actual character. it feels like a very extended "sorry we had mabel make a rash decision in the heat of the moment that the characters forgave her for because they understand and love her. we will now proceed to have a dimension of all mabels where theyre portrayed as so self-absorbed that theyre all stuck on that dimension with no hope of returning home." excuse my dramatic wording but i swear to god that's what it feels like! and that's what it READS like!

mabel got "caught up in her own mabelness"? she gets distracted with crafts and cats like a SQUIRREL?? the idea of her neglecting those around her being put directly next to her going "i caused an entire apocalypse just to get one more day of summer?" SHE WAS GOING TO LOSE TOUCH WITH HER BROTHER. SHE WAS GETTING LIED TO AND TRICKED BY A GUY WHO HAS LITERALLY BEEN TRYING TO START THE APOCALYPSE FOR BILLIONS OF YEARS NOW. its really ridiculous and it doesnt play well at ALL. this kind of thing really shows to me how trying to please bad-faith critics will literally only make the end product worse.

"but what does that have to do with anti mabel though?" well, anti-mabel's "evil" kinda gets affected by the moral of this story, don't you think? if they arent getting mabel right, then what is this ultimate "anti-mabel" really going to be? not really a reflection of any mabel i know. that's for sure.

but that aside, looking at everything that we know about anti-mabel, her dimension is kinda... played off as a joke? she feels a lot more like a joke character to me more than anything at this point lol

not that i really needed that much development from a one-off antagonist from a silly gravity falls comic but like. how is anti-mabel literally SUPERVILLAIN-TIER EVIL? what? where is she getting the resources for this?? and then you have the rest of her family who are all just like, chill? and its like WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON ANYMORE.

anyways. back to trying to answer the question i was literally asked. i think post-weirdmageddon mabel would see anti-mabel in a different light, thats for sure. anti-mabel's family is nothing like her! maybe she's just lonely. rev mabel knows you can't just get away with doing evil stuff, at least she's learning that, but i think some part of her would sympathize with her deep down

[denzelhart]

Nightmares

Summary: You're having some nightmares and Rudy's there to help you.

Warning: Fluff (is this even count as a warning?), reader has no pronouns.

Wordcount: 1.0k

Note: This is a male reader fic but can be read as gender neutral! There maybe some error grammar because English isn't my first language.

hi, miss me :]?

Pairing: Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra x Male reader

Having nightmares in the time of war isn't common for you or anyone but it makes you and your sleep schedule harder to manage.

Sleeping wherever you can. I mean anywhere with a flat surface, you take the opportunity to rest your eyes even a few minutes to a few seconds before going for the next practice or going on a new mission. Maybe just lay on the couch and perish.

Until someone calls you up. To make you do work other than lay your ass on the couch. Of course.

Like you take every chance you can sleep even just with your eyes closed.

It's not really good for your health and you know it. Totally didn't bother you at all but it bothers someone, Rudy. Your love.

Rudy took notice of your sleep schedule ever since you tried to sleep anywhere you can. At first, he let it go. Because who doesn't have a sleepless night right? Well, kinda wrong. Yours is a little different. He couldn't tell if you're working too much or having too many nightmares. In any case, he'd try to help you.

Rudy's not a man who stands there and watches his lover struggle trying to get some sleep. He won't tell how he noticed it in the first place.

He just knows or maybe he knows you too well. Three years of dating each other. Of course he knows you.

Waking up from another nightmare, your body trembling from what's been chasing you, covered in sweat making you uncomfortable in your own clothes. Already lost count of how many times you had nightmares. However you get a sleepless night, again.

Yay. Not very good news, still. Yay.

Getting off of your bed is the next thing you do. Reaching the doorknob and starting to walk to the kitchen. Your only friend for the next hour. While walking to the kitchen, you passed Rudy's room. 

It got you thinking that you and him haven't talked much lately, Rudy may not be talkative like the other men did but when he's around his loved one. That's a whole different story. Like his teammate, Alejandro. They talked a lot on base and on their job. Maybe you and him don't have time for a little chat. It got busy a bit around here, in the military.

You missed him.

Already in the kitchen, you heard some noise coming from there. Seems like someone's having the same issue as you, walking into and there he is. Rudy.

"Someone having trouble sleeping?" looking at the man making some tea for his sleep, you assumed.

"Said someone who had trouble with nightmares multiple times." He only chuckled after hearing you mumble some words. "How did you know?" avoiding his gaze at your small figure, trying to be distracted by looking in the fridge.

"Mi amor, we've been dating for three years now. Of course I know you're having some nightmares, not some paperwork." Rudy walks over behind your figure, pulling you towards him with his hands around your waist. Moving his hand a bit, soothing you, giving some comfort and trying to make up the time you two have lost.

"You know, you can always tell me about it. I could help you." Rudy whispered enough for you to hear it.

"Didn't want to bother you while you were doing your job." Feeling his presence behind, you leaning your body against his. Finding some warmth from his body.

"I don't mind, especially helping you.." Rudy whispered again. Hoping you could let him help you this time. "Alright then.. if you insist. Let's see how you helped me" Now you're looking at Rudy, wondering what he would do to fix your sleeping problem.

"How about you settle in my room while waiting for me to make you some tea, then we can fix your sleeping problem." Rudy said, letting go of your waist then proceed to start making another cup of tea for you. "Sounds good, love?" He added. 

Kinda missed the warmth of his body against yours. "Yeah, sound- wait. I'll stay in your room until morning?" You questioned, not knowing if you misheard it or not. "Yes, or you don't want to stay in my room?" Rudy turns his body around facing you, leaning into the counter a bit. Waiting for the kettle to boil.

"Oh um, I don't want to bother-" He cuts you off. "Do you want to sleep in my room? With me. Yes or no, mi amor." Looking at the other figure, knowing what the answer would be yet, he's still asking.

All you did was nodded.

"I need words, love." Rudy demanded.

"Yes, I'd love to.." When you finished your words, the kettle boiled. Waiting to be poured into the cup with the tea bag inside. "Good, go to my room first, I'll be there in a minute." He praised you and went back to making some tea.

All you did was nod at his words, walk away from the kitchen and make your ways to Rudy's room.

Open the room door, there it is. The room has remained the same since the last time you walked in and still smell like Rudy. It feels nice being back here. Sitting on his bed, waiting for that man coming back with two cups in his hands.

And he did come back with it.

Grabbing one of the warm cups. "Careful, it's still hot." Rudy is now sitting next to you, drinking a bit from his cup. "Good?" All you did was nodding, too tired to say a word to him. "Alright, let's get you to sleep. I see that you're getting tired now." He then guided you down his bed. Feeling the comforts of your lover's bed as well as the warmth of Rudy's body temperature.

"Good?" You nodded at his words, flushed your face into his chest. Feeling sleepy with Rudy's hand rubbing your back. Knowing what is comforting you the best.

"Get some sleep now. Tomorrow will be a long day, mi amor." and that's all it takes for you to fall asleep in Rudy's arms.

Seems like today the nightmares you have won't bother you anymore.

[gibbearish]

wanted to throw my hat into the ring specifically in regards to james responding to the bigotry claims bc i havent seen anyone address the aspects i wanna talk abt in full yet, it kinda got long as fuck for a p short excerpt so putting it under a readmore

so here's the section (text from @storagebay29 's v helpful transcript):

"I never ever intended to hurt anybody. I never thought that that's what I was doing. Before I went- before I went to the hospital,¹ I read a lot of stuff from people who were really hurt, not just authors and stuff but people who watched my videos who were hurt by stuff in them. People think that I hate ace people and women and bisexual people and lesbians and that's not true. It's really- it's just- it’s not true. And I’m sorry that stuff made it into videos² that just shouldn’t have been there: misinformation and lies... But I promise you I did not write that stuff.³

I should have been a lot more exacting when Nick and I would be editing scripts but I promise you that those are not- I don't think those things.⁴ I specifically want to apologise to asexual people who feel⁵ that I just completed delegitimised you. Nick being ace, I- I know that it's kinda like you know, no two gay people are exactly the same, no two ace people are exactly the same, but I kind of, when it came to that I just kind of ran with Nick's judgement⁶ and his observations and stuff like that. And I’m not trying to throw Nick under the bus,⁷ which a bunch of people are saying that I was setting him up as doing, which is not true…"

so! let's break this down

¹ "Before I went- before I went to the hospital" - firstly i want to be clear of my position with the "did he actually attempt" question bc ive seen some people being absolutely vile already, which is that while i understand doubting his story considering his history of lying and manipulation and obviously skewed moral compass, i also feel like it is VERY much plausible enough that publically speculating abt whether it's true or not is shitty, especially telling HIM you think he's lying. best case scenario you're right, worst case scenario you're crossing a hell of a line, and he's obviously done enough stuff that the situation can be addressed pretty comprehensively without risking getting that coin flip wrong. i think we should proceed under the assumption that lying about that is one line he wouldn't cross, and if proof comes along that he was lying then obviously fuck him, but otherwise i think that aspect should be off limits. and having said all that, even under the assumption he is telling the truth, the way he brings it up in this apology is still manipulative, as many have already pointed out, and this is an excellent example. by bringing it up right before addressing his bigotry, he a) implies to the audience that these comments in particular are a notable part of what sent him there, and therefore plants the idea that if they continue to address it while knowing how badly it's already affecting him, they'd be deliberately trying to hurt him or push him to attempt again, and b) tries to distract the audience from the fact that he's addressing his bigotry and get them to go easy on him, since clearly he's already punished himself over it enough. but harming yourself does not actually make up for harm caused to others, and even if it did, unlearning the bigotry that caused the harm in the first place doesnt end at "feel really bad about it," that's actually step one. and as i'm sure you're already aware and i'll get into more in points 4 and 5, whether he's even at step one yet is doubtful!

² "And I’m sorry that stuff made it into videos" - others have covered his passive voice the whole way through so i won't dwell too long beyond pointing it out, it's mostly just highlighted here bc of how it ties into the next point

³ "But I promise you I did not write that stuff." - just, beautiful in so many ways. performance art, even. firstly, the fact that one of the closest places he comes to calling it plagiarism is in defense against a second allegation? just lmao. and secondly, this is about the most solid proof you could get that he indeed did not watch hbomberguy's video (or at least the whole thing) because hbomb very conclusively showed that if there are /any/ original thoughts of James' in his scripts, it is the bigotry, because he showed multiple examples of James /specifically/ rewording things he plagiarized to ADD IN the bigotry. so then tying back to point 2, his passive voice then becomes about ten times funnier here because he was just. blissfully unaware we all already knew exactly how it "made it into" the script and that his next statement would be a lie. just incredible

⁴ "I don't think those things." - notice the lack of specificity here, the most he can say is "people think i hate these groups" and "i don't think those things" and not "this is exactly what i said that was harmful, here's how it was harmful, here's the correct version of it, and here's how to avoid similar pitfalls in the future", yknow, like what people do when they actually accidentally say bigoted things bc they don't know any better? and again this point ties into the next one:

⁵ "I specifically want to apologise to asexual people who feel that I just completed delegitimised you." - ah yes, nothing says apology like "i'm sorry you felt like what i said was hurtful," where the message is less "i did something wrong and hurt you, i regret this and want to fix it," and more "you were too sensitive and got your feelings hurt by something i didn't intend to be hurtful, but i GUESS i'll be the bigger person and say sorry even though i didn't actually do anything wrong🙄". and see again 4, if he actually had looked into it and learned why it was wrong, he wouldn't be saying people "felt" delegitimised. he would be explaining why people reacted that way ie what it was a reaction to, why this reaction was correct, and providing actual information about asexual people. but he doesnt, because he didnt, because he doesnt care. which is all ESPECIALLY fucked because in saying it this way he's. delegitimising what they were saying. like some kind of fuckin aphobia ouroboros

⁶ "when it came to that I just kind of ran with Nick's judgement" + ⁷ "And I’m not trying to throw Nick under the bus" - here we are, the crown jewels. so obviously ppl are already talking abt the performative allyship of "but my best friend is minority and they said it was fine!!1!" which is fucked up on its own, but then the fact that he immediately jumps to "and also i'm not throwing nick under the bus" shows us that within the greater context, point 6 did indeed mean "the bigotry in the scripts that i am currently apologizing for and explaining the presence of in this section is there because i repeated the things nick told me were true, these ideas originate from him." aka blame nick, not me. but then he remembered that scapegoating nick is also something people are accusing him of so he had to backtrack over it, which if it was actually an innocent statement, it yknow. wouldn't need to be backtracked over? it's like he thinks just because he doesn't outright say "nick has bigoted ideas that i parroted so basically its his fault" that no one can pick up on the subtext? and frankly i don't know much about nick (or james beyond this whole thing tbf so obv take everything i say with the whole shaker of salt) so this very well could be the truth to a degree, but if nick does hold bigoted views too, that's TOO. not instead. for james to repeat them without question to the camera means he doesn't disagree. even if hbomb hadn't proven the bigotry did originate from him, it would still be meaningless, because if it came from nick then that would just mean james decided to stay close working friends with a shitbag and repeat all of his garbage to his fans uncritically!

so in summary, in just this one chunk he: reminds you to be extra niceys to him because hes delicate right now, immediately lies about where the bigotry came from, talks around what he actually said wrong or that he was in the drivers seat for it, then blames nick for it before hearing himself say it out loud reminds him people are picking up on that now too and has to walk it back.

to spoof the roblox oof video: when we look at the sum collective of all of his claims regarding his bigotry, and we put it in context with. the fucking everything about him. when james says the bigotry didn't come from him, this might just be me. but I don't believe him!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wasted 5

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

You limp along the pavement, your platform dragging slightly with each step. You swallow a grumble as you try to ignore the persistent pang deep in your pelvis. It's easy to distract yourself as your bubbly companion continues her rambling.

You're still in disbelief. You really can't figure out how you woke up in a heap of trash. You've made bad decisions before, but you're not that desperate.

"You okay?" She calls to you as she stops and you keep walking.

You turn back as she opens the door of a storefront, the bell jingling loud enough to make your head throb. You assure her that you're fine as you follow her inside, welcomed warmly by the lowlights.

"Hot chocolate?" You confirm with her as you squint at the menu.

"Oh, sure, and whatever cookies they have," she trills.

"Right, well why don't you find a–" you begin as you flip open your purse and shove your hand inside. Your phone is gone and your wallet too. There's no more than your lip gloss and some old receipt. "Ah, fuck."

"What?" She bats her lashes fearfully.

"I got fucking robbed."

"Oh, it's okay, I can pay–"

"Thanks but… that's not gonna solve the issue," you mutter, "they took my phone."

"Ah, oh," she frowns, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," you wave her off as she pouts, her fawning eyes making your chest give an unusual twang, "look, I'll figure it out."

"Excuse me," the worker behind the counter chimes, "how can I help you today?"

"Oh, uh," you step up, all too aware of how she eyes you up and down. You know you look like the trash you woke up in. "Sorry, I'll have the largest coffee you got with a shot of espresso."

"Great," they key in the first item.

"Er, can I get a small hot chocolate and a half dozen of the smores cookies?" The other girls asks as she searches her pockets, "can I get whip cream on my hot chocolate too? Please and thanks."

"Sure thing," the barista chirps and reads out the total.

You feel a sear of guilt and somethinf you won't acknowledge as the girl pays for you. You sigh as the employee assures you she'll come to you. You turn and trail after your new companion to a table in the corner. You flop onto the plushy chair and brace your head.

"So…" she squirms as she sits on a beanbag, sinking a bit too deep, "you got the summer off?"

"Summer off?" She asks.

"Uh, no, I'm a bit past those years," you shrug, "flattering of you to assume."

You lean your head back and exhale. You remember a vague silhouette. Something fucky is going on. You can barely even picture arriving at the club. The whole night is just wiped from ypur mind. Still, you know what happened. You feel it deep in your guts.

You shift and try to ignore the tenderness as your thighs brush together. You rub your eye and lean your chin in your hand. You watch the girl as she watches you.

"Well, your friends, they okay?"

"Um, yeah, they're fine. Amanda ditched us. Again. And Kam is mad at her. Again," she giggles, "they're so dramatic."

"Mhmm," you chew your lip as you think, "this guy that tried to drug you, you remember what he looks like?"

"Huh," she taps her finger to think, pausing to thank the barista as they come with your order and lay it out on the table, "the lights were flashing a lot but… tall. Uh, sandy blonde– no, brown hair… you know that shade where you're not quite sure. And his eyes were super blue. You know, he's cute enough he doesn't need to be doing that–"

"Yeah, well men do a lot of things they shouldn't," you scoff, "if you saw him again, do you think you'd recognise him?"

"Maybe," she shrugs and takes her cup, swiping her tongue through the mound of whip cream.

"If I need you to, can you?" You ask more urgently.

She blinks and her expression turns dire, "did… did something happen to you?"

"Look, I didn't just lay down with a garbage bag as a pillow. I didn't drink that much last night. Not enough to black out."

"Oh," she gulps audibly and her eyes sparkle, "oh, I'm so sorry. I… should we call the police?"

"Pfft, they won't do shit," you roll your eyes, "they never do. Not even when my ex climbed through my window– doesn't matter," you stop yourself, her rambling must be contagious, "what matters is I'm gonna find the fucker and get his ass back."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna drug him and leave him in the trash."

"Wait, er, what, you can't–"

"Why not? I have every right to fuck him right back."

She looks around as your voice gets louder. You ignore the looks from other diners and you lean forward, lowering your voice.

"You don't have to, alright? I can find the jerk on my own–"

"No, I'll help," she insists, "you can't go back alone."

"I don't want to make you–"

"No, no, I want to. Just thinking… if he did it to you, he'd do it to someone else. He almost did it to me," a tear wobbles out and she tamps her cheeks with a knuckle, "sorry, I… I just… you don't deserve that."

"Shit happens," you try to sound steady but your voice wobbles just a little. This isn't the place to let it in. "Hey, don't get upset, okay? I'm alive. Just…" you search around and reach for the tray of cookies, "have a cookie, they look delicious."

She sniffles and nods, taking the cookie from you and biting into it with a hiccup. You watch her chew and swallow. She gives a tight-lipped smile, "they are delicious," her face crumples again and she falls back into sobs, "I'm sorry."

"Shhh, hey, hey, it's fine. Look at me," you snap your fingers at her, "it's fine. You and me, were gonna get him back, right?"

She nods and takes another bite. You smirk and grab a cookie of your own.

"Alright, so we just need to come up with a plan."