#these types of little observations by them about the other keeps popping into my head so here we are

[sunflowernyx]

MSR Drabble: The Little Things

Word count: 350+

***

It’s in the little things.

“Can I borrow this?” Scully asks.

She twists her torso, leaning out from the shadow of his bookshelf to show him the academic text she’d plucked from his collection.

Mulder props himself up on the couch cushions, his elbow becoming an easel support for his chin, so he can better study her. There are two types of mysteries always in his life; the ones found in his files played out in front of him, and the one Scully always poses.

Sometimes they intertwine like lovers’ hands.

“Sure,” he says. “Keep it.”

It’s one of the psychology books from his MA year. He hasn’t had a need for it in years, knowing every word by heart from just a skim.

She rolls her eyes at him. “If I actually kept every book I borrowed from you, all your books would eventually find their way to my shelves.”

Mulder’s smile is a Cheshire grin, lazy and slow to bloom.

“I know,” he says. “I take it as a compliment to my taste in reading material.”

And he hopes that one day he might be able to slip in with the last volumes. Like a cat finding its way home with familiar things, to curl up unnoticed until she won’t want to get rid of him.

Scully wrinkles her nose on principle. “Maybe not,” she corrects softly, turning her profile to him to run a finger across spines on a particular shelf. “I wouldn’t want to keep your paranormal junk.”

Liar.

Dana Katherine Scully is a little liar, he thinks fondly.

She hides it well, misdirects with the way she turns his psychology and profiling book collection into her own private library to lend from. But he has heard her quote enough of his books on witchcraft, alien abduction, and all things paranormal; has found enough of his books on the topic mysteriously missing and mysteriously returned again exactly a week later, to know that she is reading through even the texts she scoffs at.

For him.

It’s in the little things.

But it’s little great things like this, the disappearance of his books, the way she picks him apart through the words on his shelves, in his head, that she gives away she loves him.

[evamame]

postpartum depression / kuroo testurou

postpartum depression has hit you hard. and it doesn’t take much for kuroo to notice. it’s obvious in the way you tiredly rub your temples when your baby girl starts wailing at the top of her lungs for the third time in one hour, or in the way you sometimes look so exhausted kuroo thinks you might actually cry. he feels so helpless it hurts. he can’t stop her from crying. it’s just how newborn babies are. and he can’t take away your motherly duties either. he would if he could, but it’s too bad he’s not able to make his own milk for your baby. he can try to help you in other ways, though.

you’ve finally gotten your daughter to fall fast asleep in her crib, so you begin to drag your feet out from the bedroom and to the kitchen for a glass of water to cool yourself down. the sight laid before your eyes stops you in your tracks. kuroo is in front of the stove, and you can tell he’s grilling some type of meat on the pan from the soft sizzle. a fresh bouquet replaces the one that was left in the vase dying since you were too busy to bother buying a new one. small candles are lit and scattered across the kitchen island, creating a warm glow that lights up the dimly lit room. flower petals tossed around and oh you might just break down into tears right now.

you must have made a sound because kuroo turns around, a soft and understanding smile appearing on his face when he sees your expression. “i wanted to finally do something for you. i know we can’t go on a date somewhere fancy because of the baby, so i did the best i could,” he explains.

you shake your head. “kuroo. . . this is more than perfect,” you say, hands covering your mouth in awe.

his smile widens and he gives you a small nod before turning back to the meat grilling on the pan, flipping it over using the tongs in his hand with practiced ease. once he’s done he turns off the heat and places the grilled meat onto a plate. that’s when you pay attention to all of the other dishes scattered across the counter. every one of your favorite side dishes fill around a dozen plates to the brim. you breathe in the scent of simmered vegetables and fried croquettes as they hit your nose.

“you finally got our little princess to sleep?” he asks, opening the cabinet where you two keep that one fancy bottle of wine.

“yeah. took me a while, as always.”

he hums in response as he takes the bottle out and finds space to place it on the overflowing countertop. “i know. gave me some more time to get this ready, though.”

“when did you buy these flowers?” you ask, inspecting the beautiful arrangement of colors.

he smiles. “i got them on my way home from work. i saw them and thought of you, since i know they’re your favorite. and then i thought about this idea,” he gestures to the array of dishes as he speaks.

you raise a brow, “i didn’t see you with them when you got home.”

he starts carrying plates to the table, “i hid them behind the shoe rack. you’re not very observant when you’re tired, apparently.”

you let out an airy laugh at that and begin following his movements, grabbing plates to carry. he hears a plate clatter against the countertop as you pick it up and looks over his shoulder. “stop, stop. you’re not supposed to do anything. relax, i’ll handle it.”

you hesitate, and he’s quick to reassure you. “if you’re strong enough to handle our daughter day in and day out, i’m sure i can carry a few plates.”

you sigh, placing the dishes back onto the cold countertop surface. he’s right, as always. and you let him take care of you since there’s no reason for you to not. you take a seat at the table, watching as he makes rounds back and forth from the kitchen to you. he finally returns with just the wine bottle and two wine glasses in hand, placing them down on the table with a soft clink. then he sits in the seat right next to yours, not across, because kuroo is the type of man that absolutely despises it and claims it’s “too far.”

he pops open the cork and pours you two a glass, clinking his rim together with yours when you hold your glass out to him. you two eat, making small talk about how his long day at work was, about your baby girl, and everything in between. you eat slowly, savoring the taste of the food he went out of the way to make. and it tastes so good. nothing about your quick five minute sandwiches and microwave meals could even come close to the tender meat and flavorful sides. it’s been too long since you’ve sat down and had a meal that wasn’t rushed or interrupted by a crying baby. and a meal that was made with love. so, so much love.

“is it good?” kuroo asks in between bites, stabbing his fork into a vegetable.

“you don’t even know. i feel like im gonna cry,” you respond, words muffled from your mouth still stuffed with food. you stare at the small bit of remaining food on your plate, holding back tears.

he smiles softly, albeit a bit sadly, at your watery eyes and contorting features. “sorry i’m always at work. i know how tired you are.”

“it’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. you lean back in your chair, hands on your stomach, a tired but content sigh leaving your lips.

“full?” he asks.

you nod, and he stands up to take away the empty dishes. he returns and takes your hand, pulling you out of your seat. “come. i’ve got another surprise.”

he leads you towards the bathroom hand in hand, excitedly flicking on the lights to reveal the most romantic view you’ve ever seen. a similar sight is bestowed upon you as the one in the kitchen, with candles floating in the water accompanied by rose petals and a pink fizzy bath bomb with a subtle floral smell.

he places his hands on your shoulders from behind, leaning forward and tilting his head to look at your reaction in the dim lighting with an expectant grin. his voice is soft and warm, smoother than velvet. you feel his breath tickle your ear as he speaks, “i thought you might want to retire for the night with me. what do you say?” it’s phrased like a question, but he’s already gently and ever so slowly pulling down the straps of your top. you never would have said no anyways. not even in a million years.

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765

a/n: i keep up loading baby stuff, ig this baby fever is becoming a phase.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[jynxpsiche]

A Dae-ho x reader where the reader is kind of a sweetheart but is in team thanos. With dae-ho and thanos/Nam gyu having beef with one another because of it lolol if you get what i mean;;

MMMH MMH MMH THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!! ready to create some havoc!! Thank you for requesting! Hope you like the fic!! Likes and reblogs are appreciated!! <3 stay safe and hydrated!!

pretty lady

kang dae-ho x fem!reader | slight f!reader x thanos/nam-gyu

🎐. summary: you were a sight for sore eyes. An angel into a corrupted place like that. Of course you were going to be the attention of most the men there. Especially of two particular boys.

🎐. warnings: slight glinda core, blonde female reader because I said so, canon squid game gore, violence, swearings, jealous and protective dae-ho, not proofread. English is not my first language!

Likes and reposts are appreciated!!

Among all these people you were literally an angel. Your blonde gentle curls bounced with every step you took when you first walked down the aisle to submit your vote.

You felt all the eyes on you but you tried to brush them off and only concentrate on your imminent future. Your expression soft but serious.

Determined you pressed down the X button and with a small grin on your face you wore the corresponding patch on your jacket before joining the others on that side of the room.

You fixed the little pink bow that tied half your hair up and you failed to notice a set of blown wide eyes staring at your petite form from the other side.

Scrutinizing and observing you with deep interest. A smirk popped up on his lips. What an intriguing little creature you were.

Such a cute and delicate flower.

And oh how much he craved you.

What was doing a little doe like you in a place like this? Full of hunters and starving men. Not a single positive thought behind those prying eyes.

Especially his.

Unfortunately for you and the others on your side, the majority had decided to vote to continue playing games and so you were stuck in that place, fighting for your life, for another day.

The crowd had now dispersed, but two factions had now formed, creating great tension in the room.

No one could have been trusted there. And you knew that.

And while you were sitting on your bed bunk, thinking about possible moves or other ways to survive, player 388 observed you from his spot on the stairs, not caring about the conversation his teammates were having.

His eyes slowly admired how the light made your golden locks shine, how small your figure was, your delicate hands and fingers playing nervously, and finally your dove-eyed eyes focused in front of you.

You were on alert.

But even if behind your docile appearance you hid a strong spirit, he felt a sudden feeling bubble up in his chest. An incessant need.

Despite not knowing you, Dae-ho wanted to assure your safety and to keep you away from any type of dangers. Especially the ones in that same dorm.

However, his sudden hobby had been interrupted when player 230 approached you with his 'cool' attitude. He knew what men like him wanted from pretty girls like you. And he surely couldn't tolerate that.

"Hey Señorita, what're you doing here all alone?" his cheerful and flirty voice woke you up from your focused planning and slowly you brought your big eyes to him, noticing the dude with the purple sparky hair. "Why? Is there a problem with it?" you questioned lightly, your voice coming out in a soft tone.

You weren't trying to flirt back or something, but you deeply disliked when people didn't like you. You constantly felt the need to be loved and adored by everybody.

The guy shook his head, chuckling amusingly and then leaned closer to you, “just wondering what a pretty doll like you was doing in a place like this” he took one of your curls and started twirling it on his finger.

You stared at his eyes, locked with yours, and immediately picked up his blown pupils boring into yours. And you understood clearly that something was wrong with that man.

But you had no strength to pull him away.

“Doll…” the guy started, now a wicked grin on his lips, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your plump lips, “I’ll be able to protect you, but—“ he stopped his words for a moment and his smile widened “it will come with a price”.

Patiently you flashed him a tight closed smile and with a swift of your hand you managed to free your locks from his grasp, pretending to fix your hair.

Dae-ho still observed from afar, although now standing from his spot and slowly ascending from the stairs with the intention to stroll near your bed bunk and intervene in case things got a little too heated. And not in a good way.

He absentmindedly smirked at your calm attempt to escape from the guy’s grip and silently cheered in his mind at your successful attempt.

Now he was only a few meters away from you, this time able to hear the interaction.

You both didn’t notice him. What a relief.

His heart beating hard and anxiously in his chest, but he kept a focused look on his face. He was ready to jump in if that drugged guy would have tried something funny.

Then he heard your soft voice, “that’s so kind. But you know what would be even kinder?” You batted your long lashes at the guy in front you, who was hanging from every word that left your plump and rosy lips.

You slightly turned your head to the side, eyeing a young small guy, probably your age, who was sitting all alone. He looked kinda pathetic.

If this strange man wanted you to be on his side so bad, then he would have done everything you suggested him. And you were also going to help that poor scared guy. How good of you.

“See that guy over there? The one all alone and scared? It seems so unfair we are all in teams, and not him, geez” you falsely let out a sad sigh, still gazing at the other player.

The purple-haired guy briefly looked where you were pointing at and then turned to you again. Wide and crazy eyes staring at you for a second time.

You sent him another tight smile, this time the corner of your lip twitched a little due to your nervousness.

The ex-marine kept his gaze locked on you, noticing how slowly you were starting to falter. Doubt and fear was gradually creeping under your skin. This time you weren’t sure you were going to get out of this situation all by yourself and thanks to your charm.

And Dae-ho understood that somehow. You were crumbling, but he was ready to help you out.

“I wish someone would be my hero—” just to make your statement look more truthful, you placed your slim fingers on his bicep, gripping at it slightly. From him, you received an enthusiastic look and an amused chuckle. “—if that someone would to go team up with him…”

Now your lips were pushed forward into a pout and that sight alone clicked something in the drugged guy.

A low hum came from him, his face even closer to yours, your foreheads only a few centimeters away from actually touching. He now really was staring into your wide doe orbs.

“If I do that…would you consider joining my team Señorita?” slowly you nodded then recomposed yourself “we’ll see” and with that the guy was out of your sight, already jogging to other side of the room to talk with that lonely player.

You relaxed your posture, which had became stiff from the moment he came near you, but you just didn’t realize till now.

Then a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You shrieked loudly but cutely (in Dae-ho’s opinion) and jumped at the contact, scared that another creep was going to pester you and make you uncomfortable.

However, when you turned around you were met with an affable face.

It was another guy, also young, but he didn’t give the same vibes as the previous one…no, this one made you feel secure and calm. Not troubled at all.

You studied the young guy with a curious stare, your orbs roaming all around his figure because too intrigued by his appearance.

He wasn’t strange, neither looked like one. But in a bizarre place like that you were expecting the most untrustworthy people playing deadly games just to feel the breeze of victory and satisfaction.

The hand he used to tap you on the shoulder was still frozen mid-air, a widen look on his face and a faint and rosy blush on his apples’ cheeks. He surely was speechless.

You cutely tilted your head, looking up at him with large eyes, “can I help you?” His gaze fixated on your lovely and round lips, his brain not comprehending any word coming from you.

Dae-ho gulped down the lump in his throat and simply refocused his attention on your face, now staring at you in the eyes like an imbecile.

Maybe that was exactly what you were thinking: what this idiot wanted from you? how you were going to get rid of him without hurting his feelings?

He was already tasting the flavor of rejection.

Then he felt your baby pink nails graze at his hand still hanging in the air and instinctively he withdrew his hand with a quick jerk, as if the contact had burned him. But in reality he was only caught off guard, not ready for your touch. He would have expected anything but the brush with your soft, pale skin.

A light gasp came from you, surprised by such reaction. It never happened to you before.

How peculiar.

Your voice reached his ears again, “are you okay?” The former marine couldn’t make a fool of himself for the second time in your presence, he had to answer and quickly. “Yes! I just…came here to check up on you! Yeah, yeah…after the conversation with that dude, Thanos” he tried to sound confident, but he himself noticed how his own voice wavered slightly or abruptly became high due to nervousness.

The quizzical expression on your face made him realize that you didn’t know who the player was (probably you didn’t pay attention to the number on his jacket) so he chuckled softly and caught his breath, ready to clear up any doubts.

But before he could do that he immediately caught how your eyes suddenly lit up, a wide smile bloomed on your face and delicately you started bouncing on your bed bunk in excitement.

“Oh i got it!” You bounced a little more and unconsciously landed closer to him, taking both his large hands in your small ones.

Dae-ho immediately took notice of the huge size difference and also tried to drink in your gentle touch.

“You mean the odd guy with the purple hair right?” Your expression was hopeful and impatient, waiting for him to answer your question and ease your doubt. He simply nodded, with no force to speak after a scene like this, his mouth dry like the desert.

When you tilted your head a bit your hair prettily shifted in the same direction, shining more brightly in the light of the room.

Now a thinking expression printed on your features.

“He made me uncomfortable, sure, but I think that I handled the situation pretty well!” You grinned up at him “after all i love helping others and that guy all alone surely needed some!”

“Did you came here also for something else?”

Did he? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted you safe in a degenerate place like that and mostly from degenerate people that took part in it.

He wasn’t one of them. He knew.

And neither were his teammates.

So he for sure knew that you would have been safe in his team if you decided to join him.

“Actually…” but he was unsure. Maybe you would have considered him on the same level as player 230. But it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Actually…I was hoping that you could join my team?”

Your already large eyes seemed to comically widen even more, making you appear cuter than you already were.

His heart leaped.

And when you were ready to give him an answer Thanos approached your petite figure again, but now he wasn’t alone.

Skipping happily behind him was a guy with long hair, a mischievous grin on his thin lips.

The former marine recognized him as player 214, Nam-gyu.

The rapper’s voice boomed through the room, “Doll! I’m back! Did you miss me?” An unsettling feeling was showed through your facial features, but you didn’t give away too much discomfort, immediately wearing the fake thin smile; kind and polite but cold as ice.

Dae-ho only admired how versatile you were. You amazed him every second that went by.

“You again! Didn’t you go recruit that poor guy on your team?” You questioned politely, slowly hoisting from your kneeled position and standing right beside Dae-ho.

Even in a mundane action you displayed such gracefulness that pulled every string of his heart.

But he noticed quickly that he wasn’t the only one.

In a flash Thanos wrapped his arm around your waist and quickly pushed you in another direction, probably where his bed bunk was situated. “We are going to have so much fun together doll! And we’ll be able to win so much money!” He beamed enthusiastically, his arm bringing you closer to his tall and slim figure.

Nam-gyu swiftly appeared on your other side, the mischievous grin still on his face but now his eyes were totally focused on your face.

An unsettling feeling bubbled in your stomach. Goosebumps on your arms due to that sickening gaze. A shaky sigh from your nose.

“Yeah…just stick with us…and you’ll have nothing to worry about” he said, engulfing your shoulders with his arm.

Now you were trapped between the two, unwillingly following them.

Slightly you managed to turn your head behind, locking your eyes with Dae-ho.

You were silently asking for help because in that moment he was the only one you truly trusted and the only one to save you from that situation.

But he hadn’t been quick enough because when he opened his mouth to interfere, you were already gone.

[...]

Panic set through your bones when the pink circle soldiers locked your legs together with the team you had been forced to join.

The second game had been announced: six-legged pentathlon.

Five minigames to play in a short amount of time; if the team ran out of time they would have been eliminated. And you all knew what that meant.

With a shaky breath you scanned the room briefly, before setting your tremulant eyes on player 388, who was already looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

He was trying to put you at ease with a simple glance, his fist raised in the air as a symbol of strenght and courage. He perceived that you could do it and that you were tough enough to succeed.

Still with your gazes interlocked he mimicked a deep breath and reluctantly you echoed him. That should have calmed you down a bit.

Your doe eyes flashed him a determined look and then you turned forward, ready to face the challenge.

Subtly, he side-eyed his teammates, hoping that they didn’t witness the secret and caring exchange you two had.

Dae-ho kept his gaze fixated on you the whole time, never tearing it away from your small figure as you walked ahead with the rest of your team.

Only once his eyes left your figure and that was when he sent a disgusted look at Thanos, who of course appeared too relaxed and out of his mind during the race.

A low growl reverberated in his chest when he saw how the purple-haired guy squished your face and made you look at his face, telling you to not fuck up.

How dare he speak to you like that? You, who didn’t deserve such treatment.

If he wasn’t in a place like this, he would have intervened in the blink of an eye.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and Jun-hee beside him stared up at form, a quizzical expression on her face.

Slowly and cautiously she followed his line of sight and despite her short height and her condition she immediately caught up what was happening: call it female perception.

Unfortunately she was nobody to him to share a piece of her thoughts, but maybe, in a subtle way, she could do it. Smooth and clean without raising any suspicious.

"Ehm...388?" she didn't know his name and of course they were only acquaintances, so it was only a matter of rispect and politeness. The mentioned guy turned his head towards her, his brows raised slightly in concern, "Are you okay? You don't feel good?" she kindly smiled at his gentleness and interest in her health, but she simply waved his worries away, her hand ghosting on his bicep.

"Perhaps are you okay? I see you're kinda...distressed?" Dae-ho gaped at her with an unexpected suddenness, certainly not expecting it t be so noticeable. Now it was his time to get rid of her worriment, "I'm fine, I'm fine...nothing to worry about!" but his tone didn't reassure her at all and her suspicious had been confirmed when his eyes flashed for a second towards the playing team.

"Is there anybody you care about?" she lowly whispered not wanting to draw any attention to them, even if almost everybody was too engaged on the game ahead. Dae-ho's head snapped in her direction, now his expression displaying half surprise and half concern.

If Jun-hee had managed to catch up so quickly about her behaviour, soon or later the other players too would have understood that and not only him, but you too would have been in danger.

And he wouldn't be able to endure it.

He was trying to save you, not to endanger you.

"W-what?" "In that team-- she said pointing forward-- there is someone you really care about and you are worried about them, am I right?" she muttered hushedly and the former marine only nodded at her statement.

He just wanted this nightmare to end.

He forcely rubbed his temples, a faint migraine starting to bloom in his mind. If this game wouldn't kill him first, then his anxiety would do the trick.

"Everything is going to be fine, don't worry" the girl reassured him and then brought her gaze forward again, focusing on the ending game. With a small but rousing smile she gentlu nudged his arm and pointed ahead.

He lifted his head and saw that the last game has been passed succesfully and now your team was hurrying to the finish line.

When you crossed the finish line, shouts and jubilant yells echoed throughout the room, the other players happy to see the team had passed the test and that there was hope for everyone.

Of course, your team was not the weakest, but it was certainly the least harmonious and uncoordinated of all the others.

Eyes meet.

Hearts leaped.

Even if all the players roared triumphantly they seemed to be suddenly surrounded by a sweet and innocent silence.

You beamed at him, smiling widely and flashing him your white pearls. So lovely and beautiful.

‘Thank you’ were the words your lips mouthed and in exchange you raised your closed fist as a good sign luck. He smiled back, his smile full of adoration for you.

He was really hoping to see you after that game.

However, when your team was being untied by a circle guard and then escorted out of the field, Thanos immediately circled your waist with his arm, pushing you closer to him.

A shiver went down the marine’s spine.

He needed to complete this game, and fast.

Dae-ho needed to save you from that monster’s grasp.

[…]

His team had been the last to play.

No one was present there to cheer on them, only the utter and sinister silence. The guards absent stares on their rigid figures.

But they did it. They passed the game.

All of them being able to succeed in each minigame without too many flaws.

When the doors to the main room opened, Dae-ho noticed how some of the other players let out frustrated groans at their arrive, hoping that more people have died in order to gain more money.

But that wasn’t the case.

The ex-marine’s focus although was set on the crowd ahead, trying to spot your figure anywhere. But he didn’t.

At first he was confused: you had passed, then why weren’t you there? He spotted your former team but you weren’t there either. He tried to calm himself down and distract his distressed mind a bit, following his group to their self-proclaimed spot on the bunks.

Probably you were just in the bathroom. Yeah, you were safe and just needed a moment to use the restroom, nothing drastic.

However, he couldn’t avoid eyeing occasionally at the purple-haired guy, who seemed into his own little word, moving his air in the air and whispering under his breath improvised lyrics.

Then he heard a door open. He settled his eyes on it and suddenly a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He felt like breathing again.

Firstly he spotted your blonde hair, too unusual to avoid among the sea of dark hair, then your eyes met.

The marine felt a smile creep on his lips when he saw how your eyes lighted up in his presences internally you were practically beaming.

With scurried but silent steps you hurried yourself in his direction, trying to be unspotted by Thanos and Nam-guy. They gave you the heebie-jeebies.

And when you were close enough you literally threw yourself on him. Of course he had been caught off guard but managed to catch you quickly and engulf you in a tight squeeze.

Even if you two didn’t know each other, you felt a deep connection.

You nestled your face in the crook of his neck and at your impulsive action Dae-ho flushed quite heavily but tried to hide it from your view.

Your loving face was hidden but he still heard your muffled words, “I thought I’d never see you again” at those words he smiled warmly and unconsciously tighten his grip around your smaller figure. His touch safe and warm.

Dae-ho tried to calm the incessant beating of his heart, thumping loudly against his chest, and a shaky breath left his mouth, “I’m not going anywhere. I will protect you even if it’ll cost me my life” he murmured back in a gentle reassuring tone “I’m going to get us out of here. I promise”.

He felt your figure shift slightly under his grasp and briefly loosened his arms around you, not letting you go completely.

A hopeful expression was printed on your face, your large eyes staring up at him like he had hung up the stars in the sky, “I know…but please” you pleaded softly “let me help you. We are going to do this together”.

Dae-ho’s heart swelled at your gentle words, bringing solace in his perturbed soul.

“When we’ll get out of here…” he bit his tongue, not sure if continue or not “when we’ll get out of here I would like to shoe you my hometown and…threat you a nice dinner”.

Your rosy lips morphed into an excited grin.

“You need to be treated like a lady…and I would gladly do that, if you’ll allow me”.

Your slim arms encircled around his neck, ushering him closer to you.

“I would love that more than anything”.

[bloodykora]

Scrapped Knees

Hehe I just started writing and this came out. Hope yall enjoy, more stalker mc content.

MDNI this game is 18+ therefore so is my writing. TW: mentions of blood, and the normal yandere tropes TKATB List

'Hey so uh I may be a smidge late. I totally did not fall and scrape the fuck outta my knees. :)'

You hit send and wait, looking down to your legs that are now dripping with blood. The concrete making a perfect target. You glance back to the phone, those three familiar dots appearing as Sol quickly typed back.

'Oh wow, where? I'll just meet you there with some bandages. Don't hurt yourself further.' Your face pops into a huge grin while reading his text, you look around for a place to sit. Finding a curb where you could plant while you waited.

'I'm like.. a block and half down from the cafe. But I can meet you!' You text back, taking your bag off and setting your phone down. You pull your legs near your face, observing at the carnage when you hear your phone buzz again.

'No, stay. I'm coming.' You smile and shake your head a bit, giggling at how easy it was. Bait set and trap. Not very easy to fall just enough to only damage your knees, speaking of. Your gaze falls to them again, using your fingers to pry out the few rocks that had settled into the wound.

It wasn't long until the sound of steps echoed closer to you, relaxing your legs out instead of being scrunched up. You turn to look down the road, Sol speed walking with a plastic bag in one of his hands and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.

"Hehe hi, sorry about this." You sheepishly spoke as he approaches you, setting both of the bags he had down along with yours. He immediately kneels down to look at your legs, gently taking them into his hands. Heat of embarrassment building in your body as you watch his eyes.

"You need to be more careful." His tone darker then normal, flutters of butterflies in your chest as you hear his words. Need to be more careful, careful for him because he cares. He practically rips open the bag. Gauze and bandaids, cotton balls along with two bottles of water. Even some pain meds.

"Where did you get all that?" Turning your head to the side a bit in confusion as you eye all the supplies. He cracks a top of one of the bottles off, taking out a few cotton balls before pouring some water on them. Dabbing it to the scrapes.

"I ran to the little store down the road. They luckily had this stuff." Your smile grows wider at his words. "Sol thats so nice!" The words spill out before you can even think about them. A small blush now filling his cheeks as you reach out to hold his arm. Rubbing along his long sleeved shirt.

The stinging of the cuts barely being noticeable as he touches your skin. Sticking dried blood now being wiped up, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling when he throws a cotton ball out. It goes quiet as the sun begins to set, orange skies casting over the pair of you.

He begins to open the band aids, choosing which size would fit over your knees best. You admire him, taking in his hair, his face, his piercings, his black painted nails, the way his eyes fix into a stare as he begins to concentrate on something. He places two band aids on one knee, covering the now beginning to scab parts. He then begins to repeat with the other.

"When you're all done, are you gonna kiss my boo boos better?" You ask earnestly, his stare blanks for a second before a small smile appears on his face. "If you really want me to." His smile turns into a smirk at your face blanking, your ears burning. It quiets down again as he finishes patching you up, gentle with his touch.

"Do you want any pain killers?" He asks, finally looking back up to your face as you shyly shake your head no. He then keeps eye contact with you as he lofts your knee to his face, closing his eyes softly. Then pressing his lips to the bandage. Your hands fly up to your face, covering your face. Too embarrassed to even look at his face afterwards. A low chuckle hits your ears causing you to shake your head in reply.

"Uhh anyways!" You shout behind your hands, trying to change the topic. Peaking out as he tucks the extras into his bag. "Its gonna be dark soon now, how about I walk you home?" You remove your hands and agree, smiling as he puts his hand out for you to take to get up.

"Yeah! And we can finish up the assignment there too." He nods as you two start walking as the street lights begin to turn on around you.

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x kalani halloway.

• chapter warnings: infidelity.

• ru’s 💌: i won’t be giving out chapter summaries for this story as I genuinely want this story to the kind that you engage with without any hints given. if this story is a success, who knows what the future could be for it 😉. don’t forget to comment, reblog and like 💋.

• tip: kofi | paypal

• w.c: 1.03K

PROLOGUE

JUNE 2022.

The Thompson Hill youth football club the ‘Thompson Tigers’ had won their away match against another local rival team so their energies were still high as the group of young teenagers congregated in the Nando’s restaurant. The team took space at the back of the building but their table had a good view of the high street outside.

“How can you call yourself a Nigerian but you’re ordering lemon and herb?!” Tyrique, the goal-keeper of the team, criticised Michael - one of the defenders. “You’re a disgrace to your ancestors.”

“First of all! I’m half-Nigerian and two, not all of us were born with the devil’s arsehole for a mouth.” The remark caused an eruption of laughter throughout the restaurant.

Emil, who had been quiet in his corner with one headphone covering his ear just chuckled to himself and shook his head as he turned back his attention to the video that was playing on his phone. The footage was of him at the recent match. He had scored twice, his last one being the deciding the goal of the match.

It was something that he was proud of but there had been too many missed opportunities but the rival team had put on a good defence and were quite aggressive with their offence. However, he felt like he could have done more. If he was going to get scouted, he needed to be better.

“Right Emil, what am I getting you lad?” The Thompson Tigers’ head coach. Raymond Wright asked the young boy.

“Erm, just a quarter hot spice chicken with spicy rice and coleslaw . Refill drink please.” Emil ordered his food.

“Any desert for the man of the match?” Emil felt his cheeks warm at the statement. Everyone had agreed that he had deserved the badge of honour. Throughout the entirety of the match, Emil was the man lifting the spirits of the other players, keeping them going.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks coach.” the older man patted his shoulder and then walked towards the counter. As Emil turned his attention back to his phone, a message popped up.

Mum ❤️: Coach just sent me videos of the match! You smashed it honey and I’m so proud of you! I’m sorry that we couldn’t make it. But I will be making your favourite food tonight. Love you baby boy.

The message caused him to smile. His mother was always expressive and she did not care that he found it a little embarrassing and cringe, especially when they were out together in public.

He quickly typed a response back.

Emil: Thank you mum you only missed this one match and that’s only because Titi is sick. As long as I get the most plantain on my plate, we’ll be okay.

Exiting the message thread, he clicked on the thread that he shared with his father. The last message that he had received from his dad was in the morning and it was a google luck text. Emil was a little disheartened but he knew that once his father knew about the results of the match, he would reach out.

Emil shook his head as he locked his phone and took his headphones off so that he could join in conversation with the rest of the team.

Coach and a couple of teammates returned to the table with some refill glasses and cutlery. Emil was focused on cleaning his fork and knife when his name was called out.

“Wassup?” He acknowledged his teammate, Jamal, who had called out to him.

“Isn’t that your dad?” He used his head to indicate towards the window. Outside on the high street was a parked uber and outside of the vehicle stood a man. Emil observed the man. The man’s back wasn’t particularly large, he was just tall. The back of his shoulders stretched out the fabric of the fitted suit and it was in a colour that was typical of the navy blue colour that his father would wear for work. Whilst Emil took after his mother’s rich dark skin - his father was more of a lighter brown that, when it got too hot, he would tan.

And it wasn’t until Emil spotted a tattoo of a small bird behind the man’s ear did it full recognise in his brain that the figure was his father.

Without a further thought, Emil shot out of his seat and rushed towards the exit of the restaurant without a care. His dad was outside and the joy riddling his young body was uncontainable. Months of not having his father not being able to turn up for any of his games, him making that extra effort when his mother was home bound with his little sister meant the world to him.

He swung the door of the restaurant open and only slowed down to cross the road, Emil ran over. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and frowned in confusion at the sight a few feet ahead of him.

Just a few steps in font of him, Emil watched as his father, not even turn to face him, but to open his arms as a woman get out of the fashion boutique they were standing in front of. It was a woman he recognised but in that moment, Emil could not put a name to it.

The woman jumped in his father’s arms and embrace him the way that he had witnessed his mother do so many time before. Emil’s brain was trying to catch up with what was happening but his body was already reacting.

He felt his heart pinch with an acute pain that made it harder for him to breathe. Then tears began to well behind his eyes as the pain was becoming too much as the confusion mounted.

And yet, it wasn’t until his father kissed the woman did that confusion and hurt manifested into a deep betrayal and a furious anger.

His quick feet propelled him forward until he felt his hands pushed against the bodies of the adults, breaking them apart.

“What the fuck Dad!” He yelled as the older man stared down at him with a panicked look washing over his face.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[peejay-docs]

[2 - Brewing Bonds]

A Daredevil X Vigilante!OC series

Summary: Our OC gets better acquainted with someone she met during her nightly endeavours, and also with our dearest Matt and Foggy.

Word count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Hi, I deeply apologize for posting this later than expected. But here's part 2 finally! I already have a lot of ideas for part 3. Anyways, hope you enjoooy! Also don't forget to share your insights and thoughts.

Also wanna thank @sleepyflorian for helping me edit and proofread! Love ya always.

After my brief encounter with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, I wasted no time changing into my suit once I got home. I used the rooftops of the city's shorter buildings to get around faster—and to keep a better eye on things. Luckily, my apartment sat on the top floor of my building, allowing me a convenient entrance and exit. I patrolled the surrounding blocks, scanning every corner of the neighborhood for signs of trouble. It was rather peaceful. Aside from the five thugs earlier today and the unexpected meeting with Daredevil, the night had been quiet. The most I've done was follow the sound of barking dogs to make sure nothing suspicious happened.

Beyond that? Hours of rooftop-hopping led to nothing. So there I was, sitting at the edge of a random apartment building, observing the moonlit streets below—waiting for trouble to find me.

But even with the stillness, something gnawed at me. Somehow, I didn't feel at ease with the quiet. That creeping, uneasy gut feeling told me that something was out there. Something awful. Just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Just then, an idea popped into my head.

I whipped out my burner phone and stared at a business card I’d sworn to only use if absolutely necessary— and tonight felt like it. Something didn’t add up, and I needed help figuring out what I was missing.

Before I could second guess myself, I was already listening to the dial tone in my earpiece, anticipating an answer. A few seconds passed before a curious voice cut through the silence of the night.

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end.

"Good evening Mr. Cross, it's—"

"Well, well, well..." he drawled, interrupting my introduction. "If it isn't our mystery woman. Took you long enough."

I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling at his little quip.

"Aren't you a joy at this hour?" I retorted.

"Correct me if I'm wrong” he said, "but didn't you say you didn't need my help?"

He was referring to the day we first met—when I was suited up, of course.

It was right after I stopped that jewelry store robbery. Once I’d taken down the suspects, I waited around to make sure the cops would arrest them properly. That’s when he approached me, handed me his card, and said if I ever needed help, I should give him a call.

I told him I wouldn’t—but he insisted that I keep the card. And now, well… here we are. .

"Respectfully, Mr. Cross—"

"Please," he interrupted. "Call me Jason."

"I don't think that's appropriate." I politely declined.

“Come on, we’ve known of each other’s existence for…” he trailed off. I could almost picture him checking his watch or doing some dramatic mental math. “Two months—in exactly three minutes, mind you. We're practically best friends."

"No, we're not. Also, that was oddly specific." I commented to which I heard him snicker.

"I'm a cop." He brags. "That's what I do."

“Humor me then.” I began. “In the grand, majestic span of those two glorious months, how often would you say we’ve actually interacted—including this thrilling phone call, of course?”

On normal days, I wouldn't normally act like this. I’d always been the timid type—a bit of a pushover, really. It's something I discovered about myself only after spending time in the suit.

There, I felt confident. Free. Bold.

The complete opposite of the girl who worked behind a counter and handed people their coffee.

Jason remained silent, so I took the liberty of answering the question for him.

"Oh, twice. Isn't that right?"

I can already imagine him rolling his eyes, probably sitting at his desk or wherever he was.

"Listen, I—"

"No," he interrupted — yet again. "You listen."

The command in his voice left me stunned.

"From what I see, you called me."

"I called you because you made your contact information available to me. Unlike someone I've allegedly known for two months, I don't go handing mine out to every person I meet, Mr. Cross." I mocked, drawing out his name. "Now, I'm not a cop, but it looks like I beat a so-called professional to that conclusion. Isn't that funny?"

“Oh, my bad." he said dryly. “Guess I didn’t realize I was dealing with a pro here. Should’ve known you’d crack the case in no time.”

"Well, this was clearly a waste of my time." I said, just about ready to hang up. "I wish you a good night."

"No—wait!" he exclaimed.

To my surprise, I actually did wait. Despite the conversation going nowhere, I was undeniably intrigued by what he might say next.

"We clearly got off on the wrong foot." He admitted. I only hummed in response.

"Let's start over. Hi," he greeted, his tone shifting into a warm one. "I am Detective Jason Cross. You may call me Jason, and I insist on that."

Pursing my lips together, I considered how to respond.

Our little banter from earlier started because I refused to call him by his name—which felt insignificant, really. But I hadn’t planned on getting acquainted with him. All I wanted was to ask a few questions, get the information I needed, and then toss away his number. I probably won't need it in the future.

And yet, here I was. Giving in. What's the worst that could possibly happen?

"Sure, Jason."

"There you go! That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased. "Now, how shall I address you?"

"Whoa there, mister. That's the most you'll get out of me tonight."

"Tonight, you say. An implication of another chance, perhaps?"

"I'm not implying any—okay, you know what? This is not why I called you." I protested, quickly pulling myself back to the reason I reached out in the first place.

"Right, what can I do for you Madame?"

I rolled my eyes at the way he addressed me.

"So, I was in the middle of nightly patrol—"

"Figured as much."

"How many times are you going to cut me off during this conversation?"

"Sorry..." he apologized. "Proceed."

I sighed. "It's just been so quiet out here lately, and I don't know—it feels wrong."

I stated, feeling the cool breeze against the upper half of my exposed face, the rest hidden beneath my make-shift mask.

"Here's a thought. Maybe we're just really good at our jobs."

I huffed. "Yeah, right."

"Hey." he replied, mock-offended.

"Anyway," I ignored his reaction. "I wanted to ask if you’ve come across any suspicious activity in the area—anything unusual you've observed or noticed. Maybe I can check it out."

"Hmmm... can't say I have. That's why I'm still here at the precinct, sitting at my desk. It’s been quiet on our end too."

"And you don't find that strange? At all?"

"I guess it is,” he admitted. “But I'm sure we'll be ready for anything. So, relax a little."

He paused before adding, "Tell you what—whatever we come across, I'll make sure you'll be the first to know."

"And how are you planning to do that exactly?" I asked with a brow raised.

"I'm assuming our mystery woman is using a burner phone right now."

"Spot-on deduction, Detective." I teased.

"How 'bout a trade? I'll give you updates whenever needed, and you give me an email—preferably a phone number." He suggested.

"Nice try." I said. "I'll call you."

"Is that an implication of a partnership—"

I rolled my eyes ending the call, without bothering to let him finish.

Gaining an ally from the police was not how I imagined my night going. Yet here I was.

I guess… It's a little comforting. Knowing someone’s on my side during all this.

It gets lonely out here sometimes.

But the sinking feeling in my gut remained.

Something wasn't right—like something was keeping guys like the ones from the alley off the streets. And not for good reason.

Whatever it was, I needed to get to the bottom of it.

Left alone with my thoughts, with only the New York City air for company, my mind drifted back to the Devil himself—the image of him standing in front of me still vivid. I hadn’t had the time to fully process what happened earlier tonight.

I just met the Daredevil.

Though many are against what he does, he was the one I looked up to—the kind of vigilante I aspired to be.

But the way I acted in his presence? Embarrassing. I was a nervous wreck—fidgety, stumbling over words—a far cry from the composed figure I imagined myself to be. And to think, that's the version of me my hero met first.

Ugh. Stupid.

Why did I have to be such a stammering mess? Why couldn't I always be the version that comes alive in the suit? That version is bold. Sharp. Fearless. Out there, I am someone. But in front of him? I folded like paper.

After a while of sulking and overthinking, I finally decided to call it a night. All this nothing was giving me too much time to think—and I didn't like where it was going.

I jolted awake from my phone's alarm sounding through my bedroom—the sound aggravating my irritation each passing second as I lie still, refusing to part with the comfort of my bed. Eventually, I groaned, reaching for my phone on my nightstand, half-tempted to fling it out the window just to shut it up. Once silence finally reclaimed my room, I lay there staring at the ceiling, early morning light casting streaks of blue and orange against the walls.

As much as I wanted to stay curled up in bed, being assistant manager didn’t afford me that luxury. So, with an exasperated sigh and every ounce of willpower I could muster, I dragged myself to the bathroom to get ready.

I’d gotten home a little over 4 AM, and the exhaustion hit the second I walked through the door. Three hours of sleep—on a good day—was my norm. Some nights, none at all. In my earlier days of being a vigilante, balancing it with work and life—not like I had one anyway—was chaos. I was always tired. My focus was constantly scattered. It got me into trouble more times than I could count. But after a few—okay maybe a lot. Like a lot a lot—of trials and errors, I finally had it down.

Sure, I missed the luxury of eight solid hours of sleep. But I'd chosen this path—and I finally felt like I had a purpose.

Still, this wasn’t the time for deep thoughts. I had a shift to catch.

The café smelled as familiar as ever—coffee beans and pastries welcoming me the moment I stepped in. Being a 24/7 place, we always had a steady stream of customers, especially those trying to beat the morning rush.

"Good morning, Ma'am." Kyle greeted me from behind the counter.

"Don't call me that. I'm not that much older than you." I said with a half disapproving tone as I put my things aside and wore my apron.

"But you are my superior." He replied, with a sly grin.

"Just don't." I huffed, amused.

As I manned my station—wiping counters, sterilizing coffee machines— the café doors opened, and the noise of New York spilled in: honking horns, hurried footsteps, irritated commuters. The usual.

Then, just as quickly, the doors shut, and the chaos faded into a distant hum.

I looked up out of habit to greet the newcomer—a simple good morning paired with the go-to service grin—only to find myself staring into a pair of round, red-tinted glasses, softly catching the morning light.

"Hi." He greeted with a warm smile.

"Hi." I echoed, a little too softly. There was a pause—but to my surprise, it wasn’t awkward. His smile lingered, patient but not expectant, like he was used to giving people time.

"Am I too close to the counter, or am I about to knock over a pastry display?"

I let out a soft breath—almost a laugh—and stepped forward. "No, you're good. About one step away."

His smile deepened—as did his dimple, and it was enough to make my chest flutter.

Then a hand landed softly on his shoulder. I looked up to see Foggy beside him.

"Man, I'm parched and starving." He said, scanning the menu behind me before his eyes directed toward my direction. "Hey, how's it going?"

The man with the cane tilted his head towards his blonde-haired buddy.

"You've met?" He gestured to both Foggy and I.

"Just yesterday," he grinned. "She called me Froggy."

"You did?" The eyes behind the red lenses gazed at me paired with an expectant grin.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault." I said defensively.

"Uh-huh," Foggy smirked. "This is Matt, by the way." He pointed towards his friend. "Need me to spell it out for you? It's M-A-”

"I think I got it, Foggy." I retorted.

"Oh, now you call me Foggy."

"Shut up." I blurted out without thinking, earning myself a laugh from both of them.

I blinked, surprised at myself. I didn’t usually talk to strangers like that. But something about them—so warm, easygoing—made it feel natural.

"So, what can I help you with?"

"You know what, I liked my drink from last night. I'll get that again." Foggy said. I nodded, noting it down.

"And yours?" I asked, looking toward Matt.

"What would you recommend?"

Foggy gave him a puzzled look. "I thought you liked your coffee one way."

"I thought I'd try something new today." Matt said with a light shrug.

"Whatever you say. Don't blame me if you’re in a bad mood later." Foggy teased before going to grab a seat. Matt just shook his head and softly laughed at his friend.

"So?" He turned back at me with a smile. There was something calm in the way he spoke—not flirtatious, not guarded. Just open. Curious.

"Are you in the mood for something bold, or gentle?"

"That depends." He said, a smile lingering. "How dangerous is bold?"

"Depends on how much sleep you've had."

"Let's assume not much." He replied. Something in his voice hinted at more than just a bad night’s rest—but I didn’t press.

"Gentle it is. I've got a lavender oat latte that just might do the trick. It’s my go-to on sleepless nights."

"I'd love that."

"Coming right up."

A few minutes later, I brought their drinks over to their table.

"What, no name calling today?" Foggy teased.

"Nope." I grinned smugly. "Anyways gentlemen, here are your drinks." I said, handing each of their beverages. When I handed Matt his, our fingers brushed. Just barely. But enough.

"Thank you." He said with that same warm smile.

"You're welcome." I replied, my lips stretching into a grin. "Anything else I could get you boys?"

"How 'bout your name?" Matt asked, and I blinked with surprise, catching a glimpse of Foggy's eyes rolling from my peripheral.

"...Dominique," I finally said.

His head tilted slightly, as if turning the name over in his mind.

“Dominique,” he repeated, softly.

“Most people call me Nikki,” I added with a small shrug. “Or Dommie, if you’re really trying to get on my nerves.”

I swear I saw something shift behind those red lenses—like a glimmer of recognition or something deeper.

He chuckled. “Noted. I’ll stick with Nikki—for now.”

There was a playful flicker in his expression, but something about his tone made it feel like he was filing that name away with care.

As I stood there in front of him, my expression didn’t change, but I could swear my pulse did.

……………………

Author's Note: We finally get to know our OC's name! So yes, it's Dominique. It may or may not be close to her vigilante identity, but we'll get on that! Anyways, let me know what you think! Would love to hear your thoughts.

[cosmolog]

Father and Son?

Moon knight x fem!reader

So, I just found a comic with Spider-Man and Moon Knight and it's inspired me to write this. They both act like smartasses to one another so there will be a bit of banter in this.

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

"Okay, so what's the plan here?" I was crouched on a rooftop, Marc was slowly pacing around behind me. Venom's head floated beside me, mentally informing me of the number of heartbeats in the abandoned warehouse.

"Pretty straight forward, one of us goes in and drives them out to a secluded spot along the canal. From there we can question them." Marc's smooth low voice spoke from behind me. "After that...well, either we leave it to the law or we finish them off."

"Sounds like my type of party." Venom grinned.

Marc's mask appeared and he stopped beside me. I stood up and turned to him, Venom also looking at him. "Yeah, yeah, let's just try to keep everyone alive tonight, okay?" I looked between the two of them.

Marc shrugged a little and looked down at the warehouse. "I'll go in, flush them out"

I nodded. "Scream of you need help" I teased.

Steven fronted and looked at me. "Pop the kettle on, love. We'll have this done in no time" He fixed his suit before jumping from the roof, Marc fronting again and using his cape to glide to the warehouse below.

I shook my head and crouched again, waiting patiently for Marc to do his thing.

Marc landed and quietly snook up to a hole in the roof, looking into the warehouse, seeing men with guns that were almost alien. Some of the men were making more of these weapons while others either tested them or guarded the place. "Who are these guys?"

Venom and I glanced at each other. "What's the problem?" I asked, while noticing a familiar red and blue suit swing down to land on the warehouse.

"They're making weapons with some kind of alien shit" Marc said. "I'm gonna go have a look-"

"Hey, Moon Knight!" Spider-Man whisper-yelled and he crouched beside Marc.

"I'm busy, Spider-Man." Marc said lowly.

"Egyptian stuff, right? I bet it's Egyptian stuff" Peter smiled excitedly behind his mask.

"Not everything I do is 'Egyptian stuff'" Marc shook his head.

"Right, right. Gotta catch the other ones too, right?" Peter scooched a little closer to Marc, watching what he did as he observed the warehouse full of weaponized criminals.

"Are you enjoying your father-son talk?" I chuckled into the Comms. Of course, Peter, with his super hearing, heard my voice and gasped.

"Y/n is here? Where is she? Probably up somewhere..." It didn't take long for Peter to spot me using his suit's heartbeat scanner. "Oh, I see her" Peter waved to me and I waved back.

"Anyway, gentlemen, can you raid the warehouse already?" I urged.

Marc looked from where I was to point at Peter. "You. Stay here" He said before quietly jumping down and landing in the warehouse, the moon putting him in a spotlight in the dark warehouse. "You have a license for this place?" He said, rather loudly, all eyes turning to him with their weapons raised.

Spider-Man landed down behind his shoulder. "Yeah, seems like an illegal gathering to me" He joked.

Marc's head snapped to look at him. "What did I say?"

"I don't like to listen" Peter shrugged before starting to web up some criminals.

Marc sighed heavily at this before punching a man who came up to him with some kind of alien-modified baseball bat that glowed a raging purple.

The fighting went on for a while. I switched my position and sighed softly. "Marc's probably gonna kill poor Peter"

"You know when Peter finds out about me, he's gonna be outraged" Venom spoke.

"Well, if you hadn't gone and caused havoc while we were separated, we wouldn't even have that possibly. But, you just had to go and ruin it" I huffed.

"It was fun!" Venom argued.

"I can be fun too!" I glared at him.

"It's been ten years since you've stepped foot in a club" Venom scoffed.

"Yeah, because I'm older now and clubs don't appeal to me anymore"

"So you have lost your fun" Venom stated.

"No"

Meanwhile Marc and Peter had finally taken out all the criminals. Marc went poking around for information on this group.

"The Vulture?" Marc whispered.

"Vulture?" Peter quickly walked up to see what Marc was looking at. "Wait a second...I know him!"

Marc looked at Peter, his mask disappeared as he furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean you know him?"

"He...uh...well, there's this girl at school that I really like and-"

"Skip"

"He's her dad" Peter summed up. "Her dad's Vulture"

"So you have a name for me" Marc guessed.

"Uh...well, yeah. But that's my future girlfriend's dad, I don't want to mess things up"

"Peter, he's a wanted criminal who happily killed a few people to get this alien shit" Marc pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Peter sighed defeatedly. "Okay, fine. I'll handle it."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Marc raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah. No problem" Peter shook his head.

"How's the situation going?" I spoke into the Comms.

"We're done" Marc replied as he and Peter walked out of the warehouse.

I had now travelled down to stand outside the front of the warehouse. I stood with my arms crossed, Venom had gone back inside so Peter wouldn't see him. "What happened to flushing them out?" I joked.

"Decided to keep the noise level down. Give you a day off" Marc smirked as he and Peter walked up to me.

Peter immediately hugged me, making me chuckle. "Long time, no see, Pete" I smiled. "How are you? How's school? See any cute girls lately?"

Peter chuckled. "I'm good, school's good. And, uh, yeah"

"Tell me all about it" I walked with him before Marc's voice stopped us.

"Y/n. About the stuff I found-"

"Marc, let's put a lid on it for now, yeah?" I suggested. Marc reluctantly nodded.

The night went on for another little while before I reminded Peter he should probably get home and sleep a while before school started. He agreed and hugged me goodbye before looking at Marc.

"Goodbye, sir" He smiled, pulling on his mask.

Marc nodded curtly. "Keep your grades up, kid"

Peter nodded, waving before jumping from the rooftop and swinging home.

I cuddled into Marc as we stood watching Peter swing away. "He's like our son" I smiled.

Marc went silent, glanced at me, then back at Peter's fading figure. "Yeah" he said, so quietly I could barely hear it.

I rested my head on his chest. "You wanna go home?" Marc spoke softly.

I nodded. Marc's mask appeared on him and I held onto him tightly as he flew into the air and took us home.

[vibratingskull]

Hi! I saw your open to chiss requests? I’ve just read the thrawn ascendency trilogy and I’m down bad for Somakro. Grumpy man with a loyal heart of gold?? I’m down so bad.

Anyway. Maybe a fluffy fic about Somakro having feelings for a fellow officer? Maybe he sees her help little skywalker chiri with something and his heart melts because he already respected her military prowess but she’s also good with kids??

I’d really take anything

Grumpy man being a sweetheart deep inside!!! 🥹🥹🥹 It woos me every time! Come get your glorious man and sweep him off his feet!

art by @jun-c

Samakro x F!Chiss!reader

Tags: Fluffy fluff, lil bit of childcare

Samakro types on his questis, keeping a sharp gaze on the officers under his command and Ch’eri on her chair.  When he is on the bridge nothing escapes him, he becomes an all-seeing being, monitoring his warriors and keeping tabs on everything happening. His subordinates feel him looming behind them and straighten their posture by reflex. 

The Springhawk leaves hyperspace in a resounding thud, shaking everyone present. They arrived. 

“Send me the last coordinates of the Pirates.” Samakro orders. 

He spins to go sit in the command chair and has to muster all his will to not take a step back before you. He didn't hear you approaching. You smile gently, handing him a microchip. 

“The coordinates, sir.” You say respectfully. 

Well, that was quick! 

That was instantly even. 

He takes the chip and inserts it in the port of his questis. 

“I will also need the calculations of their last 8 travels recorded, their spotted hideouts, and the audio recordings of the messages in their native language.” 

“They are all in there.” You nod. 

Oh... 

Well, it is refreshing to have officers able to think ahead. 

“I highlighted the pirates’ favorite routes and calculated some probability for their possible next spot appearance, I noticed a trend in the hours they chose to attack the Ascendancy. They seem random but there is a constant of 3 days and 5 hours between each of them, rinse and repeat 5 times then they disappear for two weeks to a month and resume.” You explain. 

Samakro looks at you, almost suspiciously. 

“And you noticed that alone?” 

“I studied the data during my break times.” 

That’s a heavy workload that you just lift from their shoulders. He and Thrawn will need to check if you are correct in your speculation but that will not take more than 45 minutes to review the data. 

“Thank you... Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)” He finally says after ogling you for several mute seconds. 

“Of course, Sir!” You stand to attention with a smile and walk away. 

He pretends to look back to his questis once again but looks at you walking away. That is not the first time you proved yourself zealous, and the Chiss expansionary defense fleet adores those types of behavior. If you are indeed right in your analysis he should keep a closer tab on you, you may become the next prized pupil of the fleet and his job is to facilitate your accession to higher ranks for the common good. 

He observes how you chuckle and give handshakes to several colleagues as you take back your place. You are visibly popular, which can also be an advantage in the future. With his gruff personality, Samakro was not really appreciated in the ranks of the Navy and counted his friends on the fingers of one hand. 

You do not seem to have that problem. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, you may return to your room and rest.” He orders, refocusing on the data. 

“O...Okay...” He hears the tired voice of the little girl. 

He sniffs, eyes on the screen when reality strikes him. 

Thalias is with Thrawn in his office! 

He spins his head just in time to see the little girl losing her balance as she heads toward the door. 

He is about to throw his questis to the other side of the bridge and lunge to catch the poor child when you pop out of nowhere and receive her little body in the security of your arms. 

“Careful there, Che’ri!” You chuckle with a bright reassuring smile, “I would hate for you to hurt yourself!” 

Samakro finishes crossing the bridge to join you both and kneels next to you. Che’ri raises her visibly tired face toward you and sighs. 

“I... I am sorry (Y/n).” she says almost in tears. 

The kid is exhausted, they had to push her limits to reach their destination. Usually, even Samakro is uneasy with the idea of overworking a child, but those pirates kidnapped several Chiss girls. 

Several potential Skywalkers... 

They NEEDED to arrive before all of them, and for that, they needed Che’ri to push past her limits. But now she is obviously distraught, and Samakro feels a pinch in his heart. 

But you simply laugh and caress her hair gently. 

“Do not be, silly. You worked really hard today! You deserve a warm dinner and a good, long night’s sleep!’ 

Samakro witnesses as you casually kiss the top of the head of the little girl. 

Where does that familiarity come from? 

But Che’ri doesn’t seem weirded out by your action and even presses her little cheek against your arm hugging her. Che’ri sighs again under the caresses on her hair, she looks ready to lose consciousness. She clearly is in no condition to walk back to her suite. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, with your consent I will carry you to your suite, all right?” He says, extending his large hand to her. 

You both turn your head to him, you with a silent approving gaze and her with drawn features and glossy eyes.  

He knows Che’ri is kind of afraid of him. He doesn't exude the calm and paternal aura Thrawn has around the girl, he is too rough around the edges to her liking. 

But she takes his hand nonetheless with a tired nod. 

“Okay...” 

You help him lift her by seizing her hips and he wraps his arms around her solidly to not let her fall. He feels her tiny arms wrap around his solid neck and her face lays on his shoulder, she hugs him like she would a plushie. You both stand back up and he heads toward the bridge door with the most precious package ever in his arms. 

“Junior Captain, I leave you the bridge for now.” He orders, crossing the bridge door. 

He doesn’t say a thing but he feels silent tears starting to wet his collar and shoulder. Poor little one... 

“Do not cry Che’ri, you did a really good job today.” Your voice rises out of nowhere. 

Samakro stops dead in his tracks, realizing you are following him. 

“Why are you here?” He demands, “I did not authorize you to leave your post.” 

You tap your chrono at your wrist with a grin. 

“My shift just ended.”  

He sniffs. 

“Then go eat and rest. I am taking care of this.” 

“Oh, so you know where her nightclothes are and where she puts her favorite plushie?” You ask with a surprised but gentle expression. 

He considers you in silence for several seconds. Did you ever give a bad look to someone once in your life he caught himself wondering. 

“Because you do, perhaps?” 

You snigger and enjoin him to follow you. 

“This way, Mid-Captain.” 

You walk beside each other, Samakro with his usual gruff demeanor and you a silent confident smile. You turn to look at him and your smile stretches more. 

“What is it, Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)?” He inquires, looking straight ahead. 

Usually, he hates being ogled like that, but this is not the effect your gaze has on him. 

Instead, he feels... Shy? Unconfident? 

Why is that? 

He is surely a little sick... 

“Nothing.” You shake your head softly, “Or rather, yes: Do you have kids Captain Samakro?” 

He feels his eyes rounding up at that question. What... What made you think it was appropriate to ask such a thing?! 

“No, I do not. I am not married.” He recovers the control of his expression. 

“Oh really? Paternity looks really good on you! You always look so... Moody but watching you taking care of Che’ri shines a new light on you.” 

He side-eyes you, looking for mockery on your face. But your red eyes shimmer with a gentle warmth and your grin is soft.  

“Although...” You take a step closer and lower your voice like you are about to share a secret, “After that scene, you may not remain unmarried for long...” 

This time he fully turns his head toward you, with an indignant expression. What got over you? 

“Do not look so shocked, Captain. What is truly shocking is that you are still single!” You raise an eyebrow with a know-it-all expression. 

“And in what way is it shocking exactly?” He demands with a haughty voice. 

“Now come on... The gruff big man with a secret heart of gold! It’s a classic.” 

“It’s a cliche!” He corrects, “And we are not in a holo.” 

“But you look like you come straight out of one!” You keep going, “You could have done modeling or acting with such a face! Oh, all the broken hearts you would have left in your trail...” 

Samakro reassures his grip on Che’ri’s body to put on a front, but inside he feels turmoil.  

Why are you complimenting him so much out of nowhere? Why would you... 

Oh for fucks sake...  

Politics. 

He sighs internally, really he can’t escape politics wherever he goes! Now it has to walk next to him in the corridors of the Springhawk... 

He is about to open his mouth to shut you down for the rest of the day when an ungodly sound resonates in the corridor. You both look at Che’ri, who seems to bury her face harder in the crook of his neck. 

“It wasn’t me...” Samakro hears her muffled little voice. 

“Oh, Che’ri...” You put your hand on her back to caress it gently, “It’s okay, dear. Wait, I think I have something in my pockets.” 

You search your pockets until you take out a cereal bar that you give to the skywalker. She eagerly takes it, opens the package, and bites into it immediately. Samakro observes the little girl’s expression relaxing as she eats the treat. 

“Good thinking Officer.” He nods to you, “You seem to have experience with children. I imagine you have one?” He throws back the question at you, see how you like it. 

“Oh no.” You chuckle, “I am unmarried too.” 

“Really?  A motherly woman like you did not find a man to wed?” He mocks playfully, raising a haughty eyebrow at you. 

But... 

For some unknown reason 

He is relieved to learn you are single. 

“Alas, I did not!” You laugh, unbothered, “All my other partners were rather immature, not husband nor father materials... Contrary to you, Captain.” 

He stops again. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Only that your time of celibacy might be more short-lived than you expect.” You grin, “People talk to me, sir. You are quite popular.” 

Great... a fat lot of good that does him! 

“I am here to serve the Ascendancy, Officer! Not to find a wife!” He clarifies harshly. 

Which prompts your grin to grow larger again. 

“This is exactly what Fleet Admiral Bak’if  said before finding a wife in his crew!”  

“I am not Fleet Admiral Ba’kif.” 

“True, but you might be our next Fleet Admiral!” You theorize, “You have all that is needed for the job: Courage, a cunning attitude, great tactical abilities, charisma-” 

“Drop the compliments.” He cuts you short, at the end of his patience, “What do you really want?” 

You consider him, mute for the first time. 

He gauges you back. If you play politics, you are way too upfront about it! Complimenting someone so much is so amateurish... 

But  

That is not what makes his blood boil he realizes. 

What makes it boil is that you may compliment him for a hidden goal and not because you truly mean it.  

He should not care. 

But the thought that all your words might be false in your head... Stabs his heart. 

He mentally shakes his head. Why does he even care what you think in the first place? 

... 

Because you are a great officer, with a lot of good qualities. One of those that are too rare. He met plenty of good officers, but rarely great ones. And seeing one playing the political game so badly, risking getting caught and destroying their own career like that is disheartening. 

Yes 

This is surely why he feels like that.. 

No possible other reason! 

You squint at him, your soft expression gone to leave the place to a more... thoughtful one. 

And to his surprise. 

You start giggling. 

You let out a breathy laugh before hiding your growing elated smile behind your hand, your red eyes shimmering like glitter and pure light. The notes of your laugh are like none other, they rise high, where the angels are. They are like a song to his ears, a delicious melody he never heard before but he feels like he has known all his life. 

Are you... Mocking him? 

Usually, he would use his Captain’s voice and shut you down harshly, disciplining you into obedience and teaching you respect for your superior.  But he feels his legs melting into jello and his heart picks up pace in some sort of panic he cannot explain. 

Why do you have such effects on him? 

“What did I say?” He finally demands, trying to sound intimidating. 

Not really succeeding. 

You take a step closer and your hand travels from his shoulder to his hand and you intertwine your fingers.  

And for some reason 

He lets you do it. 

Samakro isn’t used to small physical acts of affection. He collects partners to get his release and then they both go their merry way. He knows why he is seeking them out and they know why they accept him in their sheets, they do the deed and never speak ever again. 

It is simple and effective. 

But somehow. 

The simple act of holding your soft hand puts him in turmoil even his most kinky partners never managed to do! 

He feels his heart accelerating and his breath getting more shallow. 

This... is not an act of lust and primal carnal desire.  

But of tenderness and affection, such simple fondness and adoration.  

He should rip his hand out of your grip, he knows he should. 

But it is beyond him. 

He feels more naked than he ever has in his entire life, making his stomach twist and a strange warm sensation spread in his stomach. 

Making him feel... fluffy. 

You gently raise on your tip toe and very slowly, very gently, kiss his cheek. 

It is short. 

It is chaste. 

It is sweet. 

It is utterly devastating. 

He audibly gasp despite his best effort at the touch of your soft lips. 

Wh... Why do you make him feel like this? 

He turns his gaze to you, unsure, to discover you looking at him with pure, raw adoration in your burning gaze. 

“Let’s put Che’ri to bed, and then we will talk over a cup of caccoleaf. I will explain everything.” 

And you boop his nose with the most mischievous grin he ever saw. 

“What do you say, Mid-Captain?” You tilt your head. 

“All... All right.” He finally gulps, his throat dries like the desert. 

For some reason 

Sharing a cup of caccoleaf cup with you is the most thrilling proposition anyone ever gave him. And he had numerous proposition. 

You squeeze his hand gently in yours, your soft confident smile on your face, looking sure of yourself, you guide him yourself in the corridor. 

And for Samakro for whom getting power and obedience from his crew was his goal... 

He thinks that following someone’s else lead might not be that bad after all... 

Especially yours. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @leo4242564@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[blade-that-was-broken]

Intro, Stories, and Commissions!

Heya! This is my anonymous little blog for my current fixations and interests! I am currently cutting down on social media so I am no longer active here but I am keeping the blog up so if any others have any interests or want to go through some of the things here, it is applicable.

My AO3 is still up and if I ever have things I write, they will likely go there. Below are some notes on the works I have done for this account. Thank you for checking it out! And I hope you find some interest!

Name: Luthien or Blade

Age/Gender: adult woman

Notes About My Work

Focus on familial and platonic bonds

Any romantic notions are never the focus

Minimal swearing on my part

Family friendly art and writing with some violence

No nudity, serious gore or smut

Feel free to ask any questions about anything - I absolutely love answering comments and questions in the asks.

Listed below not only my current series but also some other writings that I have finished! Feel free to check them out! I'd love to know what you think! Also listed are other fandoms that I am interested in and feel free to ask me about any of them! Enjoy!

Series!

Here is a Link to my AO3

I’m Still Here - BASIC Finish

An AU where John Dory comes back to the Tree a bit earlier to raise Branch only for sixteen years later of traveling on the road with his little brother to give his life for him. Branch finds Pop Village at 16 and goes through the events of the canonical movies with the background of being a wandering traveler with his brother.

Type: Multiple Books

Question to the World - prequel mini series - ✔️

Head Above Water - movie one - ✔️

World to Change - movie two - ✔️

Moment to Be Real - movie 3 - ✔️

Words and Whispers - Collection of Snippets

For This You Were Born

In an AU where Brozone doesn’t exist and trolls can trade their lives for the safety of their families, a mother tricks her eldest son only for him and her youngest to end up in a fight for their lives against a Bergen.

Type: Multi Chapter Short Series

For This You Were Born - finished ✔️

Silence the Doubt - finished ✔️

By Design a Victor -

Half Life

In a human AU, John Dory has been working for years to get custody of his four brothers from his parents. When he finally gets it, he finds he had to fix what he inadvertently broke. As he tries to juggle a new life and protect his brothers, he does his best to repair his relationship with them.

Type - Single Multichapter, Extra shots

Breathe Again - multi chapter

One Shots/Other

Trolls

Something to Believe In - An amnesiac John Dory arrives at Pop Village and ends up raising his youngest six-year old brother. (non-sequential shorts)

Things We Lost - Clay is snatched one day, only to be saved by his amnesiac older brother, who has no idea who he is and believes his brothers to be dead. (one shot, finished)

Divided Frame of Mind - Branch, Bruce, Clay and Floyd search for John Dory, only for Holly Darlin' (Trollstopia) to tell them he's staying in Lonesome Flatts. However, when they get there, they are not greeted how they expect. (one shot, finished)

Smoke and Starlight - a continuation beyond TBT, helped Poppy with an annual world meeting and learns about his parents and his brothers as he helps set up. (multi chapter, wip, Branch, JD and Floyd centric)

Keep Me Breathing - Upon being rescued and traveling back to Pop Village, Floyd makes some observations about his older brother and gives him a hug - which, turns out he really needed (one shot, finished)

The More I Learn, the Less I Bleed - an argument erupts in the bunker one night where the brother learns a horrifying truth - their oldest has been living his life in time loops; one of which including the last performance they did as a band. (one shot, finished)

Soldier On AU - human au, concept - John Dory hasn’t seen his brothers since their parents divorced when he was fifteen. Twenty years later, he is discharged from the military after an explosion and is slowly reunited with his brothers. (concept, snippets only)

Batman/Nightwing

Halfway Gone - Damian comes to Stephanie about Dick Grayson's apparent death with a theory. She believes him. After all, he is their Batman. (one shot, finished)

I'd Give You My Lungs - Jason had never heard the wail of a father losing his son tragically too young before. But when Damian dies, he does. (oneshot, finished)

I've Got You, Brother - Jason is glad he's the one who finds it. Jason hates that he is the one who finds it. But his brother is alive. And he needs to find out what happened. (one shot, finished)

[highhhfiveee]

melodic stoner thotz

i’ve ALSO been having this silly thought about stoner!mike (who we haven’t seen in so long, i’m so sorrrrry). pls enjoy these unedited, unproofread thoughts that i typed instead of doing my work.

i listened to brie larson’s version of black sheep the other day (plus roomie and i watched the new scott pilgrim show, 8/10) and i started thinking about popstar!reader. hear me out;

you’re in a girl group, one that i currently have no name for, and you’re starting to gain traction in the states after releasing your debut album; you make high energy pop bops that emphasize on being true to yourself and standing up for what’s right with three other girls you’d met in the hallway at auditions. you’re grateful for the opportunity of course, but it’s not exactly what you’d wanted for your music career.

you have little creative control, and you’re told to sing and dance and dress a certain way; it’s a dream and a nightmare in one, and sometimes it has you wanting to leave the group all together, starting from scratch with music you actually loved.

you’re thinking about marching to the execs with your grievances when your manager sends a message to the group chat: WE’RE OPENING FOR [unnamed band that’s as big as say…the 1975 lmao] ON THEIR FALL TOUR!!!

you loved [unnamed band] and to support them on the North American leg of their tour is something you know you’d be idiotic to walk away from.

the city mike and abby live close to is stop 4 out of 10, and you’d been doing good with keeping up your charade of happiness. you sing and dance your ass off every night, knowing that you’re here and you can’t waste a moment of it; millions of aspiring musicians had wanted this but you’d finally made it to the stage.

you rarely ever fumbled during performances, a perfectionist at heart, but during the verse of one of your mid tempo songs, your eyes somehow gaze past the blinding stage lights and focus on abby (who you don’t know as abby of course lol), shouting every single word back to you with silly shimmies and head bobs.

you laugh, consumed with butterflies at the fact that she was enjoying your set so much. you’re enthralled by her energy, and it causes you to miss your cue for the prechorus. you giggle it off though you’re flustered, singing, “we have a lot of songs, my badddddd” to the melody of the music.

it makes the crowd explode with laughter, and you use that to propel you through the rest of your set, still looking towards abby as you present the outro during your final song. “thank you all so much, we love you! [bandmate 1] and i will be by the merch table once we’re off stage, and we hope to see you some of your faces there! are you all ready to see [unnamed band]????”

the crowd roars, and you watch as abby and the guy next to her disappear through the throng of people.

abby rushes straight for you once you’re sat at the merch stand, her cheeks flushed as she holds out her t-shirt for you. it’s one from your group’s first small tour, one where you’d gone to small cities throughout the country for as much exposure as possible. it was a size to big for her, draping down to her thighs. “y/n, i love you!!! can you please sign my shirt?”

“of course, cutie. i saw you dancing to [song name], is that one of your favorites?” abby nods excitedly as you scribble her name on your shirt, accenting it with a heart. you glance up at mike, who just stands behind her observing your interaction. he’s high as shit of course; he’d been a blob next to abby, really, bleary eyes and stationary, but seeing him this close revealed to you the stoner boy of your dreams.

“i take it you’re a big fan too?” you point the end of your marker at this chest. he’s wearing the same old tour shirt as abby, but his fits him well. he can’t believe your focus has moved to him now, and even though he should feel cool and calm off the edible he took before your set, your enticing gaze has him grasping for straws inside his mind.

“uh well, i…i really do it all for her, but you guys do have some solid songs. got some on your album that make me feel all powerful and sexy when i listen to them.” you both chuckle, and you motion for him to give you your hand.

you scribble your number onto his hand in red ink, musing, “well, i always love to hear what people think about our stuff. maybe…when i’m done with tour, you could tell me more over a joint or something?”

mike’s mouth goes dry, drier than it already was, but he’s nodding all languidly, leaving you with a small smirk when you give him his hand back. “yeah, yeah. sounds like a plan.”

this is kind of messy but do you all see the vision????? a full fic would be wayyyyy more structured and detailed, but i just NEEDED to get this idea out and i wanna know what you all think 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 (it would be like safety net with more smut and a tinge more angst, but definitely fluffy as hell too. like you confide in mike about the reality of your situation and he encourages you to fight for what you believe in, like one of your group’s songs ;-; still there’s lots of drama between you and the other members and the LABEL and so many entertainment people——me thinks it would go kind of nuts)

[garnetholy]

The First post.

Hi. I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now. A few things that stopped me were: firstly, I was absolutely not sure that I would be interesting to anyone (to be honest, I still have this feeling, but I decided that this would be my archive of notes, which would be useful to me in any case), and the second reason is that I know for sure that I won't be able to keep any blogs regularly due to my mental state. And I also couldn't choose a nickname... Um... This is definitely the main reason :D

I don't know much about how people usually start blogs (frankly, I don't know much about how to start anything), so I'll just use the first post to introduce myself and experiment with hashtags. So if you happen to see this post, it's nice to meet you.

I won't give my name, but you can call me Garnet.

I'm a girl studying programming in college. I don't really want to be a programmer, but I entered college just to get into something, because I don't know what I want anyway.

English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes (I combine my knowledge with a translator).

I live in Russia, so I often experience different types of discrimination, because it's quite common here. I'm especially personally affected by misogyny and mental health stigma. In my country, we have a little (or not so little) punitive psychiatry, so I can't decide to visit a psychiatrist for a long time, and all my mental problems cannot be clearly named (although I have suspicions). Recently, I finally dared to go to a CPT psychotherapist, but this experience was negative. Maybe I will write about it in one of the next posts.

Next, I would like to write about my health and how I feel.

I will be hashtag all my posts #undiagnosed until I have a medical confirmation of my mental state. So what do I suffer from?

Well, I have been suffering from depression for over five years now (obviously no diagnosis).

I have also always been anxious and withdrawn since I was a child, as far back as I can remember. I had obsessive compulsions as a child, and I still have them now, but in a different form.

I seem to be sociaphobic, every interaction with people brings me some amount of stress.

I am very anxious. I'm not sure if I have panic attacks because I have a hard time understanding the concept. I constantly feel like I don't suffer enough: my "panic attacks" aren't strong enough to be panic attacks, my "depression" isn't strong enough to be depression, my problems aren't problems enough to be problems, etc... I feel like people around me are facing much worse symptoms, even if they describe them exactly the same way I do.

I struggle with compulsive thoughts that pop into my head due to certain triggers or circumstances I find myself in.

I have bouts of derealization and depersonalization (again, no diagnosis, like everything else). I don't know what's happening to me, and it used to scare me in the past, but now I've gotten used to it. I have bouts of terrible fear of death, alternating with... The opposite thoughts sometimes, I don't want to write this directly.

Oh, and the main thing is that for about ten years now the strongest escapism has been my way of life. I don't want to be in reality, I don't want to feel this world, so I spend most of my time (and life) listening to music and immersing myself in my fantasies.

I could describe in detail each of my mental states that I just listed, but I'm afraid it would be too much text for one post. I think I will write about my experiences and symptoms in future posts, gradually revealing more details and nuances if I have something to add.

I don't know if anyone will stumble upon this post of mine, but if they did, I think I would be happy and scared at the same time :D

And please forgive me if I clutter up the hashtags with ADHD and OCD and other diagnoses, because I'm still not sure if I have them, all I have for now is just my own observations. I hope I can find a good private psychiatrist and learn something about myself.

12-01-2025 (dd-mm-yyyy) 04:04 GMT+3

[basedkikuenjoyer]

If Only There Were a Word to Describe the Enormity

Big doesn't quite cut it. So things went a different route, but walking a line along what our less recent arrivals did. This is a big, huge (no that isn't it) chapter for the Nika mythos. Sets the stage for a divine presence to cap off the end of another's story. I definitely feel that vibe with Bonney's role in all this, what a turning point and one that definitely reminds me a lot of little Otama. We've been here before with trying to predict Egghead. Opting for repetition of core themes, doubling down on what we had and making it bigger in scope over moving towards resolution. Interesting crossroads. This could swiftly turn towards that surface-level resolution but honestly I wouldn't be surprised at this point if we spin our wheels for a little more then go into that third cutaway, ending up with an arc around WCI-length.

The hook is an idea we're familiar with. Keep your eye on Luffy. Never see his eyes, how he just kinda leaps back in leaving this little gap about being fed and ending up downstairs unresolved. Mostly though, he's full-blown teeheemaxxing in a dire moment. Which is on brand for Nika but our whole idea is there's an undertone based on the notion the drawback to G5 is losing control. It all goes back to that observation our finale could be constructed a little more like a YuYu Hakusho type series than other shonen; you've gotten your ultimate power a little early because our ending will be more about learning to control it.

Oh hey, these guys. Seriously...nice. The Giants are very important to my fandom. Y'all know how much I love Miss Goldenweek and by extension Little Garden. Oimo & Kashi are where I caught up the first time. I remember being about two weeks away from starting freshman year of high school at the tail end of a summer binging the hell out of so many anime thanks to this newfangled DSL high speed internet. The way that came up again blew my mind, and seeing Dorry & Brogy almost twenty years later is so damn cool it makes me forget all about the not being the Grand Fleet aspect.

I mean, that was always just a specific and early guess. They still have sprinkled into these cutaway segments though. This pair just saw the paper and hurried over. Maybe they were expecting Luffy to head to Elbaf next after his time in Wano? Which is a very interesting concept when we've talked about Egghead being a somewhat "lateral" move with no clear goal set to advance our main progress through the Grand Line.

It's also pretty interesting to blend two long-running threads through this Nika lore. How do Bonney/Kuma & the giants intersect? Does it reinforce the need to pop the mystique of the spectacle? Does Luffy jump from one legendary story to another? The Fleet was the way to end it here. The giants tease it out more. At least as long as Shanks isn't following. But there's one last little element that makes me interested in the undertone like always, as we started off pointing out how that's still very much an element if you watch for it:

Robonosuke! Interesting how he's finally coming back around. It does look like he's reacting to the heartbeat but I'd point out we did let most of the chapter roll before showing this when Luffy went G5 at the start. The idea was always asking if that's a potential blip of something weird. The kicker with the Giants to me is how Dorry and Brogy seem to both be coming for Luffy and for the Sun God. We'll talk a lot more about them tomorrow and especially a titanic (oooh, yeah that's the stuff) wrinkle all around our beloved Strawhat Sniper Usopp I feel silly for not thinking of already. It's justified through what we learn of Elbaf in the Big Mom flashback.

Oddly enough, gets me right back to where I felt about Bonney right around the time this arc started. Remember? We're puzzled about Kiku's odd ending to Wano and all of a sudden Bonney picks up those threads in a big way. Now moving into more of that alternate protag space a lot like Yamato. Never forget, we know there was a rewrite behind that hiatus for a reason. So now...even if it's not the Fleet I can't help but notice how Dorry and Brogy specifically amplify the same ideas.

Either way, Robonosuke is coming online. We still have a little weirdness in the gaps. I'm curious as hell were it's all leading so bring on the big bois.

[ybblue]

Your Boyfriend, Blue

I'm fleshing out what my YB is like since I'm rather fond of the idea everyone has a unique YB just for them. Feel free to keep reading!

Stats:

Nickname: Blue Age: 29 Pronouns: He/Him Skin Color: Blue Eye Color: Blue Hair: He has short hair!

In this universe, everyone is a 'blurbo,' which I am defining here to mean "blob-like character," where your hair/skin tend to match colors, people can be any color, and everyone is even more cartoonishly drawn than normal.

YB, himself, appears much more docile and soft, filling the role of a sub male yandere. YB in this universe is named Blue by his Y/N.

Myers-Briggs Type: ESFJ (extraverted, observant, feeling, judging) Core Traits: Warm Affection, Energetic, Detail-Orientated Flaws: Obsessive, Insecure, Hesitant Quirks: Stalker, Pop Culture Nerd, Aspiring YouTuber

While most YB are antisocial, Blue is really great at fitting in and hiding his antipathy from people around him. He knows you need people to survive, and he makes due. (In a meta sense, he was born later than his counterparts in the other universes and has seen what being a vicious asshole gets you in the end - your Y/N's hatred!)

Blue knows he has a lot of natural charisma and puts it to work. He is very extraverted and people tend to like him. Given how much practice he has put into his façade, Blue is quite good at convincing others that he likes them and he can get along with practically anyone.

Random Factoids:

(As spoken in his voice.)

"I'd have to say my favorite color is purple. Why? No reason. I just like the color." (His Y/N has purple skin in this world.)

"Mmm, favorite food, now we're talking! It's so hard to pick just one thing, you know? If I want to sound sophisticated, I should say I like something fancy, maybe something French? But, if I'm being honest with you, the minute I smell movie theater popcorn, I go feral."

"Naturally, my favorite book changes all the time, but most recently I read This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, and it's blown me away. There's just something about the way those two characters love each other... It's beautiful, and I relate to it, though I don't think I can really explain why. I heard about the book from some guy on Twitter named Bigolas Dickolas."

"So, everyone has a favorite movie, right? Really, it's more like a comfort movie. It's a movie you watch that always cheers you up or just reminds you of the best things in life. There's this silly little movie called Densha Otoko, Train Man in English. It's this Japanese flick that's supposedly based on a true story of some guy who saved a girl from being harassed on a train. He falls in love with the girl, but he's too shy to ask her out. Random people on the internet on a more wholesome version of 4ch*n basically cheer lead him into asking the girl out. Really, the whole movie is sweet. It always lifts my spirits when I see it."

"There's only four seasons, but all of them are pretty good in my opinion. Just when you get fed up with one season, the next one is just around the corner. I guess, gun to my head, I'd pick winter, but I can't really explain why that is. Winter just seems... and pardon my pun... like the coolest time of year. Everything is dark, things are dying, and honestly the cold is used to represent a lot of villains in stories. But, on the flip side, winter is when most people have a lot of holidays and get togethers and the like. Not that I experienced it for myself yet... but, I think winter might be the best season because its easier to justify snuggling up with your partner. Just thinking about pulling someone close under the blankets while you watch a cliché holiday movie... doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Dogs! I love dogs for sure. They are so loyal, you know? Supposedly if you kick a dog, it will still love you, not that I'm advocating for that, but I just think its fascinating for a creature to love so unconditionally. Maybe its weird, but I relate to that a little bit."

Well, that's all I have for now. I really like Blue a lot, so I'll probably post some more random stuff. I might even make an attempt to draw random comic stuff with him in it.

[phantasthesecond]

split tracks chapter two time !! i’m definitely trying to work out an update schedule and so far with my up and down motivation biweekly seems stable enough :]

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

emmet goes home early; both in hopes of solving his headache, and solving the mystery behind the day’s happenings.

word count :

1,712.

he did, inevitably, check out early at the end of his break, as much as he hated the sentiment. nobody on staff seemed to dare ask why; both of the subway bosses hardly took off time, so any point in which they did take breaks for themselves was not to be questioned.

fumbling for his house keys, emmet slowly unlocked the front door, closing it behind him. hanging his coat and hat on the rack next to it, the man trudged himself straight to his room, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace.

putting away all his work things, he also made sure all the latches on his team’s pokeballs were open, so they could come and go as they pleased while he was fixated on what he needed to do, despite the still mounding headache.

quickly getting himself in an outfit more comfortable for around the house leisure, ( or as close to leisure as he could get, ) he picked up his laptop case from his nightstand, which was fondly covered in all sorts of gear station and bug-type stickers, before settling in a cross-legged position on his bed, the notes and fabric scraps carefully held in one hand.

archeops was one of the first to come trodding over out of intrigue, hoisting himself up onto the bed with his feathery claws and sticking his snout underneath emmet’s arm while staring up with wide, curious eyes.

emmet could not help but snort at that, briefly acknowledging the fossil pokemon with a scratch under the chin and a tilt of his head.

“ thank you for checking on me, archeops. i am doing something important right now. i ask you to keep your cab settled. ”

seeing as archeops’ response was to wriggle into a more comfortable position, still resting his head in place, emmet was quite sure the message got across.

opening his laptop with a hum, he unfolded the paper scraps, checking them both over a second time.

‘space-time distortions.’

so he had mixed up the name earlier. not too big of a sweat.

quickly entering the phrase into the search bar, idle hands made their way to scrolling, silver eyes skimming across the screen as emmet silently hoped something, just something , would shed more light on the subject than what paper scraps could.

clicking open one of the links, emmet leaned forward, squinting faintly at the screen. clearly copying the man’s behavior, archeops outstretched his neck, his snout resting on the corner of the keyboard.

something about “ultra wormholes,” now. how they were similar to.. whatever had torn up his and ingo’s offices.

..if this stranger just wanted to give him a worse migraine, goal achieved. at this point, even staring at the laptop screen had begun to hurt, firing off little pops and sparks behind his eyes. emmet pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep inhale, holding said breath, before letting out a sigh.

clicking on the screen reader with a scowl, emmet set the laptop on his nightstand, rolling over on his side and listening begrudgingly as a monotone voice began to drone the article out loud.

archeops snuggled his way up against emmet with a concerned chitter, and the silver-haired man simply responded with a hum.

“ ultra wormholes have been a recorded phenomenon in alola for centuries and still occur in modern time, unlike its ancient sinnohan counterpart, space-time distortions. distinct holes in space that lead to other dimensions entirely; through intensive research, it has been observed how pokemon manage to traverse them with ease, but have proven to have detrimental effects on the human body. ”

emmet could not help but tense at that, lips pressed shut in a thin line. even if it was a robotic, disembodied voice emitting from his laptop, and not something that could comprehend the bubbling stress and anticipation sitting in the back of his throat, there was still a silent indicator of a “ hurry up, ” practically spilling off the man in waves.

“ in recent influxes, people who have reportedly fallen through these aforementioned wormholes have suffered severe bouts of amnesia; that, at least, seems to have stayed universal between the two variants. in older times, it was rumored that one of ancient sinnoh’s wardens, and even the hero of hisui herself, had fallen from these spatial rifts, never to return to their home time. “

so if either of them had fallen in; emmet thought, with a mounding sort of dread in his throat, they would’ve been plunged to dragons knows where with no recollection. great to know. chills practically rolled down his spine as he shuffled to shut off the laptop; he had heard enough for now, and he was feeling no better

arm falling slack over the side of the bed, the silver-haired man lay still there for a few moments, eventually hoisting the stray limb back onto the bed and under the covers.

archeops had made himself cozy curled up on top of the blanket at emmet’s side, chittering and crooning with an occasional parroted “ safety checks! safety checks! “ in an attempt in echoing ingo’s voice.

oh.

right.

he had checked out early.

which meant he would be home alone for the next few hours.

drawing in an inhale, emmet buried his face in the pillow, with a long, exasperated sigh.

..it wouldn’t kill him to take a nap.

unfortunately for emmet, he apparently wasn’t allowed to have nice things anymore.

for one, his so-called ‘nap’ went on way longer than he would’ve preferred; there was no light coming through his bedroom window. considering the light switch was off as well, it was safe to say either ingo or one of his pokemon had shut it off.

two. his entire top half was freezing. and soaked. and there was a small weight on his chest; not a joltik, he would’ve been electrocuted by now. considering the tiny bits of something solid he was able to pick out in the dark, clinging to his hair, skin, shirt; it was snow.

another heap of half-melted snow.

balling his hands into fists, he shoved off the covers, grabbing whatever was rested on him with a loud string of half-coherent expressions of annoyance, storming across the room and flicking the switch on.

yep. more snow.

well, at least whatever distortion thing this time didn’t tear up his room.

now pausing to look at the object rather harshly grasped in his hand, he seemed to fumble with the thing for a few moments, squinting.

it resembled a pokeball, sure, but it seemed more…worn. old. weathered.

it was definitely empty; flicking open the latch, ( not a button, oddly enough, ) emmet was, in fact, able to confirm the thing was vacant. it didn’t have the same plastic and metal hand feel, though. the reddish half seemed slightly more weighted, as if carved from stone or rock, while what would’ve been the white half seemed almost wooden, indicated by texture, coloration, marbling; everything.

it was fascinating, quickly derailing his thoughts to examine such a thing in his hands, yet oh-so frustrating once his train of thought returned to the station. right. his bed was still soaked. so was he.

checking the time on his xtransciever, which was charging on his dresser, it read roughly 8:30.

alright. his head didn’t feel like there was a firework show setting off inside it anymore, so maybe it would be a good idea to report this whole…distortion situation to someone.

according to that article, there was a branch of the interpol that could handle that. the station in nimbasa wasn’t too far away; he considered it walking distance.

quickly changing out of his cold, drenched pajama shirt and bottoms into something more presentable, emmet grabbed his casual coat, pocketing the odd pokeball as well as archeops’ while walking and fitting his arms into the sleeves at the same time, leaving his room and making his way down the stairs.

the feathered pokemon in question, who had hopped his way to his little bed after the distortion had decided to drop a heap of snow into the room, quickly followed, returning to his pokeball once he had caught up with emmet.

( seeing as the kitchen light was on, ingo was likely in there, presumably having his evening tea. the tv was running in the background; some documentary, if he tuned in hard enough. ingo wasn’t much of a documentary person unless it was intriguing; he simply enjoyed the background noise. )

emmet never understood how he enjoyed that stuff.

the tea, that is.

ingo always liked his drinks sweet, so emmet only wrinkled his nose in contempt when he noticed the cup in his hurry down the stairs.

( the silver-haired man looked up from his mug, leaning against the counter with a hum. resting the cup down, he took a few steps in approach, raising a brow. )

“ emmet? where are you going at this hour? it is not exactly late, but i was told by cameron earlier that you were not feeling well, and you were asleep by the time i got home to ask how you were doing. ”

“ i am emmet. i am filing a report to interpol. i will be back in the next hour. i am verrry much fine. ”

emmet’s hand rested on the door handle, briefly, before quickly making his ‘escape’, leaving ingo very little room to question why.

( ingo was not stupid. the other’s rushed departure and lack of clarification was plenty of a clue. emmet did not lie often; he knew he hated doing such a thing, but withholding things masked behind vague words was something he apparently wasn’t opposed to. )

( plus, he had explained nothing about what had happened that morning. asking to check his office, slamming the door shut, and walking out like a hurricane had shredded through the room with bits of glass and debris digging into his skin like nails. )

( emmet was a bad liar, but he was worse at making what he was doing seem insignificant. grabbing his coat, keys, xtransciever, and chandelure’s pokeball, ingo turned to follow; in his pajamas and a trench coat, sure, but clearly not intent on being left in the dark. both literally and figuratively; it was dark outside. )

[elliespuns]

I have 2 questions:

Do you ever think that after joel and ellie got back from SLC and they got closer, joel would look at her and in his head be like "thats my little baby 🥰" ie in the spaceship scene? I'm not sure if im projecting, but i feel like it wouldn't be that far fetched. I mean he looks at her with so much love in his eyes I would be more surprised if stuff like that didn't pop into his head.

Do you ever think ellie wanted to call joel her dad or wanted him to be her dad? Because on one hand, its not like shes ever had a dad so she can't miss having something she's never experienced, but at the same time im sure she's always wanted to have a family?? And yeah i know they're the type to not call each other dad or daughter to each other's faces, but a girl (me) can still dream lol

Did Joel view Ellie as a daughter?

Absolutely.

I think that's a wonderful insight with how Joel likely felt about Ellie. After everything they went through and overcoming the countless challenges together, watching Ellie grow and seeing glimpses of his daughter Sarah in her, Joel's perspective on Ellie evolved to a fatherly affection.

The tenderness, fierce protectiveness, and pride he feels for her by the end mirrors how a parent would view their child. In those quiet moments like when he's gazing at her going around her business or just observing her, I wouldn't be surprised if thoughts flitted through his mind—my girl, my kid, watch her go, she's a fighter, she's got this, I'm so proud of her, my Ellie. The loss of his daughter opened up a void that Ellie unconsciously filled. She reignited a sense of purpose and drive to carry on for Joel.

Their relationship progressed from initially reluctant partners to Joel accepting a full fatherly role, and I think he embraced that. He stepped up as the guardian and protector she needed. The way he wordlessly watched over her, held her when she needed it most, pushed her to keep going, had her back—all very father-like behaviors. Truly heartwarming.

Did Joel and Ellie long to refer to themselves as father and daughter?

Probably not.

I do believe Ellie had some deep down desire for a paternal figure in her life, and in a way, Joel fulfilled that role for her. However, I don't think she ever explicitly wanted to call him "dad". Their bond was special and unique, forged through their shared struggles and experiences on the road together. While it had a father-daughter element to it, it was more than that.

Ellie and Joel had a strong connection built on respect, trust, and love, but also an underlying reluctance on both their parts to fully embrace parental titles for each other. They still saw themselves as individuals, not just a defined family unit. Ellie valued the freedom and autonomy of her own identity and decisions, even as a teenage girl craving care. Joel too, as a man deeply damaged by loss, held back from fully opening his heart again.

So while there was a deep familial love between them, they held a part of themselves back from fully giving in to the labels and expectations that came with "dad" and "daughter". They remained more as close companions, partners in survival, with the deepest of bonds but also individual lives. Ellie never really had that traditional family experience to miss, but she did gain something even more meaningful with Joel, a role model and protector. Their relationship defined itself.

Ellie looked to Joel for guidance, care, even affection, but not with the expectation of traditional parents. And Joel gave her that while still allowing her to be her own person. He knew who she really was—strong, determined, defiant. He didn't coddle her as a child but treated her as an equal in many ways. If anything, their bond was like two survivors finding a sort of family in each other, but retaining their own identities. Neither of them could fully give in to the nuclear family labels, as much as they loved each other.

So while there was definitely a fatherly love and protective instinct from Joel, and deep affection from Ellie, I think both shied away from the simplicity of "dad" and "daughter" for each other. They found something deeper—two weary souls finding purpose and meaning together by the end. A bond that transcended definition.