#we all deserve to be dramatic about stuff and write about it from time to time

[discrunkled-twog]

Haircut

She ran her fingers through my hair. It feels nice, and calming. I've already decided what I want done, so when she asks, I say "To my ears, thinned out and layered."

She pulls my hair back behind my ears, leaving the front strands to hang out on their own. She pushes it up into something like a bob.

"Like… here?" She gestures to the bottom of my ear.

"Yeah." I nod.

"So, you want it layered in the back too?"

"Uhh…" I really have no idea what she's talking about, and I'm trying to remember from past hair cutting experiences. "I think I usually got it layered all the way around. It's been a while since I've cut it."

Still carding through my hair, she nods. "Yeah, it's really grown out. So all the way around?"

"Um, yeah, I think so."

"I have this thing, it's kind of like a razor, that I can use to thin it out. It'll cut it in the back." I can feel her toying with the hair at the back of my head. Still feels funny.

"Umm… maybe? I don't know, I just know I want it shorter." I smile and look down. I put my glasses down before we started so that they wouldn't get in the way. I didn't want to see myself in the mirror, and I felt awkward looking at her.

"Maybe I could play around with it, see how it looks?" Her tone is strange. Like she's talking about her own hair.

"Well, I assume you know what you're doing better than I do." I chuckle. She chuckles back and starts to make her way around the chair.

"Good girl."

Good girl.

Wait.

Alarms start going off in my head. Either I look young enough to where she thought that was an appropriate thing to say, I look old enough to where that was a flirty thing to say, or I'm overthinking it and it was actually very normal.

Even if I was young, it felt like something inappropriate. I keep looking down.

"So I just play around with it, and you can do something with it?" She's still messing with my hair, starting to comb through it.

I hum in response. I'm stuck on it now. Good girl.

Like a dog, oddly. But my mind goes to sex because that's what people associate it with. It's joked about a lot with people my age, so my mind automatically goes there. It's strange but it's normal at this point.

"I-I'll find something to do with it."

I am not attracted to this woman. I've been attracted to women before and taken things the wrong way, even if it's a fantasy, because I'm a teenager and that's what teenagers do. It's normal, probably, so I no longer chastise myself too much for it.

Still, my mind wanders. It's not exciting and flowing, but kind of cold. Flat. Not really enjoyable, but still where my mind goes.

Good girl.

Excuse me? Maybe I should be offended that she had the audacity to say such a thing, and maybe that'd be pretentious. I'm still quiet, and she's spraying water in my hair and combing it. My hair goes flat and I look at my father, who's waiting for his turn. It's like she doesn't even care that he's here; like she can't tell I'm a child.

Maybe something should happen, so I'd have a real story to tell, I think.

"So. What do you do? School? Do you work somewhere?" Finally, she starts cutting. Nope, still spraying.

"Oh, I'm still in school." I hope I'm speaking normally. 

"Oh, yeah? High school?"

"Yeah, I haven't graduated yet."

She nods.

"Homeschooled, actually."

"Ah." Snip. "Makes sense why your hair's so grown out. Don't get out much."

Presumptuous, probably. I mean, I do go out. Somewhat. I get defensive over this, even though I have no idea what I'm defending.

"I mean, I guess so. I… do stuff. Sometimes. It's…" And then my speech trails off into odd mumbling like I'm nervous. Flustered, maybe. She doesn't care.

"Not out on your own yet?"

"Not yet," I say like I just can't wait to move out. Not true. I laugh. For some reason.

Why am I flustered? I probably shouldn't be, and I'm weirder than this lady at this point.

I catch a glance of myself in the mirror. I'm wearing lipstick that's much brighter than anything I've ever worn— as if I usually wear make-up and foundation that's the wrong color and I don't have my glasses hiding my bushy eyebrows and I feel so terribly ugly at the moment. My hair is wet and flat and isn't helping. I should've gotten dressed better before leaving the house, I think.

She keeps cutting and I keep thinking. About her comment, and how it might or might not have been inappropriate, and about how I'm going to write about it later as if it's an important event. My thoughts spiral into something frantic and hormonal, if you'll pardon my French, but it's not something fun and it's stressing me out.

I avoid the mirror, and she's stopped talking. I glance over to my father, who's getting his hair cut at this point. The lady cutting his hair is talking about normal hair things, and I'm wishing that this woman would say something that would make anything make more sense. Or at least something noteworthy.

She's singing along to a country song. She keeps recognizing the ones that play on the radio, but this one is something about buying a boat. It's in the chorus and it's repeated, but I keep thinking.

Good girl.

Seriously, what the fuck?

She talks to the other lady from time to time, and eventually she's done. She puts her weird scissors down and turns me around to face myself. I feel so deeply unattractive, which probably isn't the right feeling to be having at the moment.

"Look, it's cute."

It kind of is. It falls around the bottom of my ears, but it's shorter than I've ever had it. It makes me worry a bit, but I still feel inappropriately nervous. I smile and agree. She hands me a mirror to look at the back, and that's it. It's done.

I stand up. I feel awkward and heavy. What the hell even are my shoes. 

My father's been done for a bit now, but his hair looks pretty much the same. Mine is drastically different, but it's not the mullet that my mother says would've kept me inside the house for the next four to six weeks. It's fine.

Apparently I look like a lesbian now, so whatever.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[totalswag]

pairs love - DREW STARKEY

authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.

summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.

warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower

Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.

You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.

Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.

Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.

During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.

You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.

"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.

"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.

You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.

"You are such a dork," you laugh.

"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.

Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.

"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.

Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.

"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.

"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.

He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.

"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.

When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.

When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.

We love you Drew

This is the best day of my life

I can't believe he's in front of me

He's so beautiful in person

Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.

Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.

You are so sweet, Y/N

You are so gorgeous

Can't believe you are here too

I love your relationship with Drew

When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.

You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.

Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.

"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you."

You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.

The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.

You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.

He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.

"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."

You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.

You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.

"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.

You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.

I love you.

I love you more.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line over your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @kaydr3venge

[ak319]

Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)

[motthe]

Congratulations on reaching 2k! Every bit deserved your writing and characterization is always so amazing 🫶🏼

For the event, Could I request a Drabble of rivals/ crushes snowed in with Ekko with a she/her reader? (Possible accidental confession perhaps?)

I need more ekko content in my life 🥹 Ekko presents tough but he’s such a sweet lover boy!

Thank you for this event! And thank you for blessing us with your writing 💖

tysm!! i’m always so happy to hear the characters sound like themselves 😭 i hope you enjoy the drabble!

warnings: spoilers for s2 despite this being a modern au, grieving, mentions of jayvik, fem!reader

Professor Heimerdinger had been a phenomenal professor. You were thankful to have made it in to every one of his lectures in your college career. He had always been a spontaneous character, treating his students like family.

After his funeral, you weren’t too surprised when Ekko appeared. You both had been gunning for the top grades in classes, the most genius designs, the greater anything. He was a worthy opponent, taking his defeats in a respectable manner. When he won, you’d have to suffer one of those insufferable smirks and a tick of his eyebrow but you had come to enjoy them.

You’re not sure when the jealousy of his mind had turned to attraction.

He was well dressed for the ceremony, all suit and tie and raw eyes. You wanted to hold him, but you settled for a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Left a letter to us,” he said, holding up an envelope.

“Heimerdinger did love dramatics,” you joked, stepping closer as paper unfolded. For this you let your head fall to his shoulder, feeling as much as ewing the shake in his hands. You helped steady it.

“Can you…”

“Of course,” you whispered, clearing your throat and reading it aloud. You were teary-eyed by the second sentence.

The letter detailed how proud he was of you and Ekko and that he was sorry to leave the world before he saw both of you graduate. He’d never married or had a family, but he considered the two of you his own. He also asked if one of you would care for his cat, Poro, until a proper home was found.

“I’ve been taking care of him,” Ekko said. “I don’t have the room in my apartment so I’ve been spending time at Heimerdinger’s place. Helped Jayce and Viktor clean some stuff out.”

Another generation of assistants and protégés. They were married, too.

“Could you take him for a bit? He’s a good cat,” Ekko promised.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll go grab him now.”

“I’ll go with you. I have some stuff I need to grab.”

That was exactly how you ended up snowed in at Heimerdinger’s residence with your rival and crush, Ekko, and Poro the cat skirting your feet.

“This feels like one of his schemes,” you chuckled as Ekko got the fireplace in the living room going. “Remember when he locked us in the lab until we stopped fighting?”

“He forgot about us until the next morning,” Ekko finished, smiling over his shoulder.

You giggled, reaching down to pull the cat into your arms. “I can still feel the crick in my neck from falling asleep at the desk.”

“It worked, though.” Ekko settled back on the carpet as the fire roared to life. “We got along a bit better after that.”

“We respected each other,” you chuckled. “I had to after you picked the lock.”

He shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

Sitting down beside him, you both basked in the warm glow, shoulder to shoulder. The sound of the wind outside alongside the crackling wood calmed the nerves of being so close to him, well almost.

“He’s well behaved around girls,” Ekko said, looking to Poro in your lap. The car purred, raising his head as a strong hand ran over his back. “He hates Viktor. I think Heimerdinger mentioned something about a laser?”

“Like a toy laser?”

Ekko shrugged. “Either way he’s a lot more careful around guys, but he’s warmed up to me over the years.”

Yeah, you thought, who wouldn’t?

“I’d like to keep him,” you murmured, scratching under his whiskers. “Just have to figure some things out first. I’ll manage it.”

“I can help,” Ekko offered.

You shook your head. “You’ve already done so much. Let me.”

“I love the little troublemaker too.”

“Then you can visit him.”

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted as he looked at you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, heart thundering. His shoulder nudged yours, sending sparks down your shoulder and into your stomach.

“Only him?”

Your breath caught. For being the top of your class, you sure went brain dead by a simple question.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “I just…”

“No,” you said, “I mean, yes you can visit. Not just for the cat. Don’t apologize.”

“If you were uncomfortable—”

You shook your head, grabbing his arm. “I’m not. Just nervous, surprised…”

“Surprised?” he huffed, the start of a smile on his lips.

“What? I don’t know,” you scrambled, feeling too hot. Poro stretched before walking away, leaving you to die of your embarrassment.

“I’ve been crushing on you for a while,” he chuckled, “I thought you noticed.”

“I’m a genius in school, Ekko, not,” you gestured haphazardly between you, “this.”

He busted out laughing. You tumbled into it with him, the sound far too contagious.

“First the lab, now his house,” Ekko sighed later on, the two of you leaning against one another on the couch. “This does feel like Heimerdinger’s doing.”

It did. One day you’d have to thank him for bringing you together.

[yayll]

Could you maybe write smth up. About literally spoiling Dazai. Because i want to sit him down on the couch and kiss his pretty fucking face and buy him everything he even glances at.!! Hold his hand on walks, take him to like roooftops to stargaze and stuff and just stare at his PRETTY AHH FACE instead. Kiss his forehead goodnight!!! Cook him stuff and cuddle him and kiss him (again)!!!!....

Im lonely and past the point of no return sorry shdkhdkfjf

HIIII there, angel! i'm so sorry this took me a bit, but umm... i kind of went insane with this concept i read your ask and i immediately just blacked out because oh do i feel the same way about this god forsaken man.. and HEAVY on the spoiling. ahh, i hope it's to your liking, and i hope it makes u feel less lonely :') it was such a pleasure to write my first request xx

~ a little something about cherishing Dazai on days he needs it the most ~

Spoiling Dazai. Now there's something you can proudly admit to being happily guilty of. You couldn't count the times you've held him for hours after a terrible day at work, or made sure he had more than just canned crab and a few bottles of Sake. You'd do anything for him to be comfortable in his own skin, and you want to make sure he knows how much you adore him... that he knows he's allowed to take up space in the world too. You're also aware that he would rather die than to ever elaborate on the vague and dismissive little comments he makes about the debilitating weight of all of his past mistakes, the ones that make him resentful and tired when it really gets to him, but that never deters you.

You've put the pieces together long enough to understand that it's not easy being Osamu Dazai, no matter what silly mask he puts on for the world. He hasn't always been a good person, an exemplary man, and you're more than well aware of that. Still, he doesn't have to be the jester who's always entertaining the masses at his own expense.

You remind him that he isn't cursed forever, that he IS worthy of flesh and blood, and when you kiss him it's like you're absolving him of all sins... you make him new again. He is utterly bewitched by you and you feel it in the way he comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing your waist just enough to let you know your warmth is the reason his own blood circulates. Or when he whispers the most silliest and unhinged things in your ear late at night so you'll curl up those precious lips into a smile... Just for him. He gets off on the happiness he gives you, simple as that. He already feels he doesn't deserve to hold on to such a good life, but he's nothing if not defiant, and he'll squeeze out every little bit of love within that void of a heart for as long as you'll have him.

But... Today is your turn to love him so much it actually hurts, It's what he gets for being a menace 24/7! That is why you chose to make sure he has an extra special day today, by bringing him out of his comfort zone with a... mystery date!

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of being courted by such a beautiful creature such as yourself on this fine day?"

Dazai sips on his tea, eyes narrowing as they peer at you from the teacup curiously. You flash him a cheeky grin, already plotting your mission to make him so flustered he can't even look at you later.

"I thought we could go out somewhere and spend some time outside... Since we've both been so busy lately. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He raises a brow, and gives you a knowing smile back. Dazai's freakishly omnipotent in that way, and it's one of the many reasons you can never truly know if your surprises land or not.

"Mmm, it could be. Where to, my love?"

"... It's a secret."

He then pretends something has hit his chest, and he grips it, dramatically throwing himself back onto the chair causing his tea to flop about in the teacup.

"Oh my, is today the day you finally take me out and end it all?! I don't know if I can take the deceit, the absolute betrayal... What an occasion-"

You cut him off with your index finger as you place it right on his lips, zipped tight and his eyes burn into you, waiting for your next words. He eats this shit up.

"Shush! Let's go."

And with that, you grab your coats and zoom out and into the day. It's one of those days where It's cloudy, but the sun still peaks out just enough to send down warm rays of light. As you walk hand in hand, you see the way those very rays hit Dazai's side profile in the most devastating way.

You want to take a photo but you don't want to ruin the moment, so you quickly tip toe and peck him on the cheek, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. He blinks for a few seconds, still facing forward, and you swear you can see the highs of his cheeks turn red. You end up tugging him to follow you to the park, smiling to yourself in triumph as he recovers.

You walk to a quiet part, and plop yourselves down next to each other on the soft grass. Still holding hands, you rub your thumb in circles over his bandaged fingers, silently looking up at the cloudy sky. Finally, Dazai is the one to break the silence.

"Love used to always be an empty four letter word to me, but you..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to feign composure.

"... You are, by far, my greatest love, and my most beloved weakness altogether."

You were supposed to be the one to sweep him off his feet today, now your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You slowly sit up, and look down at him, noticing that his eyes are closed. He looks like a sleeping beauty. Your chest aches, and you wonder if this is the same type of ache he lives with on the daily. You murmur, studying the way his messy bangs frame his face, and his expression unreadable.

"That's not fair, Osamu..."

"You sound so pretty when you say it like that... Osamu."

You swallow hard, and curse him in your mind for being the man that he is. For being all you've ever yearned for. You look down at your watch, and check the time, heart beating wildly.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

"... It's fifteen till 5."

"Mm, why does that matter?" Dazai purrs as he squeezes your hand, eyes still closed.

"It always matters. Any time with you matters. You matter, Osamu."

You spend the rest of the evening nuzzled into one another, whispering secrets and trying to name constellations and giggling when you can't figure them out. He lets you kiss him silly, his eyes closed the entire time while you also toy with his hair and the nape of his neck; where you smooth over the soft fabric of his bandages and his skin, giving him goosebumps. Your touch is a sensory heaven. He's dreaming of you while awake. You'll always wake him up from the nightmares, from what cannot be undone.

When it gets too cold to stay out, you head back home and cook him whatever he asks for as he rests his chin on his palm, gazing at you with those unreadable dark eyes... always thinking too much. Always somewhere else. This time, however, you could tell he was present. He would eat sewage if you poured it for him with that loving manner of yours. You finally crawl into bed together, and Dazai cradles your face in between his hands, facing you. He mumbles, so soft.. so tender. It's a tone only you get to hear.

"It really is selfish of me to think I can have this and more."

"Desire isn't bad, Osamu."

"Mm, no, I suppose not. But it's not always wise to have desire, not for someone like me. I can't afford that."

You hear the genuine ache in his voice, and you lean in to kiss his forehead, a gentle kiss that stays planted for a few seconds before you pull back.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, love?~" He whispers, his voice a little strained as he looks at you with those eyes, those beautiful and endless orbs of cosmic proportions that are going to consume you one day. Hopefully.

"I think so. I'm being selfish."

You smile faintly, and you proceed to make sure that you end the night the way he deserves, the way you wanted to spoil him.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

anyway a very enjoyable detail imo is how fords confrontation with stan in tots after he broke fords machine and his confrontation with bill after fiddleford saw bill's true plans are framed the same way, with a few tweaks so that they're not wholly identical

but what matters here is that stan and bill are watching something (innocence gap aside lmao)

ford enters (or has technically entered the room already) with intent of confrontation

ford's dramatic body language through out the scene + the way stan and bill are placed

and theres a bit of irony in the fact that despite being liars and conmen, both stan and bill are both being entirely honest in this part, with fords reaction ending up the same way. stan is explaining that he broke fords machine on accident while bill is outright gloating that he tricked ford into building the portal. they both are angling to get something out of ford here, with stan still bringing up treasure hunting and bill trying to keep ford under his thumb with the deal they made.

at the end of the day though, with ford not believing stan saying it was an accident and thinking stan is lying to him vs him immediately getting confirmation from bill that he was being played the whole time, the end result is the same: ford feels he's been betrayed by someone he deeply cared about.

so thats all pretty basic stuff right? like who hasnt realized that ford has trust issues. and tbh im just pointing out some basic cinema similarities thats a cool detail nonetheless.

but my fave part is how these are the ONLY times times you actually hear both stan and bill call ford sixer in the show itself

stan and bill are both the only characters to call him sixer, but we only see how frequent that is in the comics and tbob. the use of the nickname in ONLY these scenes in the show specifically was very deliberate to envoke how much this sucks for ford that he's been prevented from achieving one dream by one person he loves, only to have that same dream used against him by another.

imagine how wild this must be for ford lol. the time he confronted bill he is instantaneously thrown back in time by bill using the very last time stan calls him a certain nickname the very night he remembers being "betrayed" by stan. betrayal on top of betrayal is connected to that very nickname, so its not JUST a random nickname either of them couldve called ford (or bill couldve also called him poindexter and a whole lot of variations of nerd, but sixer is the only nickname among the two's list is the same. almost like rubbing lemon juice and salt to the wound atp which is really funny of bill.

tots and lmc in general also have some of my fave details on stans influence over ford in general. from ford quoting stan and copying his body language when HE gets abandoned by fiddleford the way stan thinks ford did with him

(and i say copy— this is no coincidental parallel because we know in tbob ford knows what stan looked when he was doing the "high six" part, so he's been paying super close attention to stan's departure the whole time despite closing the window curtains)

and my favorite arguably funniest one, when stan called ford a dangerous know it all in ddamd and ford (who btw was already behind the vending machine and youd think already went down in the basement), is SO peeved by that he was tossing and turning in bed over that in conjuction with all his bill related flashbacks. this is funny because for someone who was literally writing "TRUST NO ONE" in his journal, he's very upset by the fact that either stan doesn't trust him + thinks that way about him, no matter how deserved or that stan is definietly right about him being a dangerous know it all (and i do not see enough people point that out lmao) AKDHAKDGEU

[aquagirl1978]

💐 Harri fluff pretty 🙏 please with strawberry milk on top

(Have you considered that one can probably taste the strawberry milk after kissing harri? *sighs as I stare wistfully into the distance*)

Love <3 V

Thank you @vioisgoinginsane - I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it!

To Catch a Thief

A/N: The first fic in my Naughty or Nice event and my second entry for An Invitation to Crown hosted by @judejazza Pairing: Harrison Gray x Reader Prompt: play fighting Word Count: 730 Tags: fluff

“I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me,” Harrison said, plopping into the seat next to you on the couch.

“Good morning to you, too,” you replied, not looking up from the book you were reading.

“Morning,” he muttered as he ran his hair through his hair. He leaned a bit closer to you, dropping his voice. “I’m trying to catch a thief and I could use your help.”

“Oh?” You put your book to the side and stared into his mint green eyes, suddenly intrigued. 

“Yeah,” he continued, “I went to the kitchen just now, looking forward to drinking my strawberry milk. And could you believe it, but there was none left. Someone here drank the last glass, knowing that that was my milk.”

“The nerve of them!” You gasped dramatically at his predicament. “Whatever shall we do?”

“I have a list of suspects.” You raised a brow, curious to know who made the list. “Will loves strawberries, so he would be a prime suspect –”

“Except he’s not here now,” you chimed in.

“Exactly. You’re very observant. Alfons isn’t back yet either, so he’s off the list.”

“What about Jude?” 

“While he’s rude enough to commit such a crime, he’s not a fan of milk. I think we can safely cross him off the list.”

“Victor?”

“Nah, he’s more of a tea and scones guy for breakfast. Elbert probably hasn’t left his room since last night, admiring all his stuff.” Harrison sighed, truly perplexed. “That leaves Roger, Liam and Ellis.”

“Ellis does like sweets.” 

“Another excellent observation. He’s possibly our prime subject right now.”

“I’m glad we were able to sort that out.” You smiled smugly at Harrison, pleased you were able to help him. 

“Yeah, well, there’s another problem. Ellis isn’t here either. Some kind of early morning emergency that Victor assigned to him.”

“So then it has to be Liam or Roger.”

“That would seem to be, but there is one other possibility we haven’t explored.” Your eyes widened when he said your name. 

“Was it you?” he asked softly. “I won’t be mad if it was.”

“No,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you. You’re my boyfriend. I love and adore you and know just how much you like your strawberry milk.” You flashed him the sweetest smile as you rested your hand on his knee.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t drink my milk,” he replied with an even sweeter smile.

“It wasn’t me,” you repeated.

“Of course, it wasn’t. I was silly to even question you.” He cupped your cheek and caressed your skin softly with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward for helping me.”

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing yours. “Is this a suitable reward?” he whispered. Your breath hitched as he covered your mouth with his in a kiss. Running his fingers through your hair, he held you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing your lips. With a soft sigh, your lips parted, inviting his tongue to sweep your mouth.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, his hand cradling your head. His eyes met yours and he smiled.

“I knew it was you the whole time,” he admitted quietly.

“What? How?”

“I had my suspicions, but you should know better than to lie to a fox.” Your face fell; he saw through your earlier lie. “That and…” He brought his mouth to yours and nipped your lip. “I could taste the strawberry milk.”

“That was evil.” You grabbed a nearby pillow and hit him on the shoulder with it. Gently. 

“It's what you deserve for drinking my milk,” he said, laughing. Grabbing a pillow of his own, he swatted you back. Not so gently. 

Peals of laughter filled the room as you took turns hitting each other with the pillows. That is, until Harrison grabbed your pillow and tossed it to the side, leaving you defenseless. He pressed his body against yours, his lips dangerously close to yours. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips moved closer to his, eager for his kiss. 

His hand ran down your ribs, his fingers brushing against your most ticklish spot. Your eyes flew open. 

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed.

“Well, I am a villain,” he said with a wicked laugh.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival   @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee     @kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic       @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer   @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @starlitmanor-network

[redocity]

Hiii i love your writing!! Currently keeping me alive 😩 im begging for some angst hurt to comfort. Maybe something involving abby but ultimately a happy ending?

MOVING ON - E.BUCKLEY

buck was finally taking the step to move out of abby’s apartment, except it’s not exactly that easy.

WARNINGS: buck has a minor breakdown oops, minor abby slander, happy ending

buck x fem!reader II hurt/comfort Il 2.3k Il requests open!

a/n: thank you for the request! і love writing angsty stuff

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Buck had finally decided that he’d had enough.

He wasn’t going to wait for Abby to come home anymore. He needed to move on. It’d been almost five months since she’d left, and five months of the team trying to convince him she wasn’t coming back.

He’d given up trying to convince them all that their relationship was just ‘unconventional’ by now, and after a particularly lonely Friday night he decided it was time to make a move.

"Can you believe it? After five months? I’m finally moving out of her apartment." Buck lugs a half filled cardboard box over to the dining table, dropping it down with a thud.

“I’m proud’a you,” You tap his shoulder with your hand as an indication for him to move, laughing with a roll of your eyes. “Glad you actually got to this point,”

He makes no resistance to your silent instruction, shifting to lean his back against a clear area of the table and watching as you rifle through the box to properly organise his horrible packing job. "I know you were all sick of me moaning about her. I still can’t believe she just up and left me like that."

“It was definitely a dick move, but if we’re being honest here she didn’t deserve you anyway,” You wave off his unspoken apology for talking your ear off for the last few months with your hand.

“I just thought we were really something you know? Then she up and leaves out of nowhere,” Buck sighs. He was sick of her, he was sick of the fact she’d left him with nothing but a half-arsed explanation and an empty promise of them staying in touch.

But sometimes he can’t help but reminisce on how she used to make him feel and believe that maybe she really was going to come home. “She was supposed to be the one, I can’t believe I was so stupid."

“Unfortunately Buck,” You reach over the table to grab the packing tape, it making a harsh noise as you rip off a piece to tape the - now neatly organised - box. “That how real dating works,”

"No, this wasn’t ‘real’ dating. Real dating doesn’t involve her leaving after she said I could move in, she didn’t even say a real goodbye, I had to find out that she wasn’t coming back from an Instagram post of her kissing some random guy in Thailand." Buck’s voice plainly displayed his emotional exhaustion.

He didn’t want to think about Abby anymore, but it was just so hard to get her out of his head when he really thought that their relationship was going somewhere.

“Head up mister,” You tap your middle and index fingers against the underside of his chin with a sigh. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea,”

Buck laughed exasperatedly. He hated that quote, it always felt so insincere. Then again that was probably because he’s used it so many times in the past when turning down his previous hookups who wanted a more serious relationship.

Now he was on the other end of it, and it just felt ironic.

“You just don’t get it, we were a perfect match for each other,” Buck exhales dramatically, turning his head up to the ceiling. "She was beautiful. She was kind. She was smart. Our sex life was perfect, she was exactly who I was looking for but she left. She just up and left."

“It happens unfortunately,” You shrug your shoulders slightly. “Especially with someone who was dealing with so many personal issues like she was,” You give up on your organising for now as you entertain Buck’s want to get everything off his chest.

“Looks like you finally got a taste of your own medicine hey?” Your attempt at lightening the mood a little is met by a roll of Buck’s eyes and a sigh.

You had a point to an extent, he’d never really dealt with a real breakup before even though he’d been with plenty of other women. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone’s gotta experience heartbreak at some point, it’s part of your character development,” You mirror the way he’s leaning against the dining table yourself, pressing your lower back against the wood with your arms crossed.

"I don’t think I needed that character development," Buck sighed once again, "I wish I wasn’t experiencing it right now. I just wish she’d call me or even send me something, anything. Tell me she’s not coming back properly you know?"

He’d probably try to convince her into a long distance relationship if she did call him. But he wasn’t going to tell you that part. He was supposed to be moving on.

“I deleted her number from your phone so… she’s not going to,”

“You did what?” You could hear the immediate hurt in Buck’s tone at your confession, demonstrated further by the way his eyes turned to you in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you are trying to physically move on,” You gesture towards the cardboard boxes that are littered around the apartment containing Buck’s belongings. “But you haven’t mentally moved on, you need both otherwise you’re gonna crash,”

Buck hated that you were right.

You were always right.

You always knew what was best for him when he didn’t even realise what was best for himself.

"I hate that all you do is say the right things at the right time."

“It’s a talent of mine,” You nudge him gently with a smile, again trying to lift up the mood a little.

Sometimes he hated that you were so kind too.

Some twisted part of him wished that you would do something wrong, that you would say the wrong thing and give him an excuse to let out all of his pent up frustration without feeling bad about it afterwards.

But you never did. And he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Then he started thinking about Abby again, of course he did. She was like a parasite that had burrowed a little cavity in his brain and wouldn’t leave no matter how many times he hit himself over the head.

He’d never had a truly vulnerable conversation with her when they were together. Not without the sole focus being on her or her mother’s health. He couldn’t remember a conversation that they’d had that was actually about his problems.

He couldn’t hate her for that. Of course not. She was going through a lot. But it really put into perspective who was the primary giver of their relationship. And it’s starting to make him question whether it was authentic in the first place.

Did she see it as a proper relationship like he did? Or was she using it as a distraction from all of the stress she had looking after her mother all the time?

He didn’t even realise he was tearing up until a drop of water hit the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?” You turned your head towards him after noticing how he’d gone quiet, his head lowered to a point where you couldn’t fully see the expression on his face.

“I don’t know-” His words said one thing, but the way he shook his head said something else. He was very clearly not okay.

“Buck…” You sigh softly at his tone, sounding a little forced as if he was scared of his voice breaking halfway through his sentence.

“Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked his question hesitantly, no longer trying to hide the wavering in his tone. He felt stupid for feeling like this over something that was seemingly so trivial to him in the past, but right now he didn’t feel like doing anything but crying until he physically couldn’t anymore.

He felt even stupider acting like this in front of you of all people. You’d dealt with enough of his baggage already, and he didn’t want to do to you what Abby had done to him in essentially using you as a human diary.

You don’t hesitate in your answer at all. “C’mere,”

You barely even open your arms before the space is filled by Buck, his head hidden against the shoulder of your t-shirt to hide his expression from you.

You lean your weight fully against the edge of the table as you envelop him into a hug, rubbing your hand up and down his back in your best attempt at physically soothing him as he lets out a soft cry into your shoulder.

A fully grown man crying into the arms of someone half his size because he couldn’t handle a breakup. Who would’ve thought?

The longer you held him the less he felt like he had to be embarrassed about it. Somebody had his back, and he didn’t ever want that to end.

“You’re gonna be alright,” The hand that wasn’t gently rubbing soothing lines over his back cupped the back of his neck, holding his head securely against your shoulder.

You knew he was going to break down eventually. You were just glad he had someone present during it.

"Thank you," Buck whispered to you as he began to calm down, "Thank you so much."

Embracing you felt like home, the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he had support. Like he could be himself.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and for the first time in a while he felt as if everything would be okay.

“Don’t mention it,” You make no move to pull away from the hug once he’s calm enough to speak to you again, content to wait until Buck was comfortable enough to pull away in his own time.

He didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Buck’s voice is muffled against your shoulder as he speaks, and he links his arms together behind your waist. “That would be nice,”

You laugh shortly at the question, your shoulders shaking slightly as you do and in turn jostling Buck slightly in your arms. “I think my legs would give out after a while, you’re heavy you know,”

"They’d get stronger eventually," Buck muttered, "We could work out together. I could train you."

Buck was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit but, as usual, his mouth spoke before his brain had a chance to control it. He was just glad that you hadn’t actually pulled away yet.

“You can’t train me to do anything if you won’t let go,”You continue to laugh softly at his proposition as your hand scratches gently at the hairs at nape of his neck.

“You can just hold me then,” He drops the idea almost immediately under the favour of staying securely in your arms.

He’d never hugged any of his friends like this before, although he supposes he’s never actually wanted to. But here he is nonetheless, and it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been in his life.

He just wanted to stay in the little cocoon your arms provided him away from reality for the rest of his life, maybe longer than that. The only question was whether you’d entertain his idea of abandoning everything productive you were supposed to be doing so that he could satiate his desire to stay exactly where he was.

“Not standing up,” You shake your head against the side of his with a small chuckle. “My legs are already starting to hurt,”

“On the couch then? We can watch that movie you were talking about,”

“We still have packing to finish Buckley,”

“Tomorrow,” Buck shakes his head as he makes a move to separate himself from you, although not fully as his hands still lay carefully positioned on your sides. “I genuinely cannot do any more packing today,”

You raise an eyebrow at him and he tilts his head at you with a sigh. “Come on, humour me here I’m emotionally vulnerable,”

He slips one of his hands towards your wrist and gives it a small tug, his grip loose enough that if you wanted to pull your arm away from him you could do so with minimal effort. You don’t of course, allowing him to tug you forward until you’re not leaning against the table any more, your weight fully supported on your feet. “We can watch that movie, order a pizza and I can wallow in my emotions for a few hours until I’m mentally fit to continue packing,”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to procrastinate,” You furrow your eyebrows accusingly, but the smile on your face betrays your feigned scolding, just grateful that he was sound enough to joke about his own misery now that he’d actually had the chance to vent his emotions.

“Oh I definitely am,” Buck’s smile mirrors yours emphatically, and he starts towards the living room with your wrist in his hand so you’re ‘forced’ to follow him. “I hate packing, it’s boring and everyone always tells me I’m doing it wrong,”

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Eleven: Third Wheel

You sat next to Megumi in a table closest to a window. He had luckily gotten his phone back from the owner who had let them film and recognized the two boys. Currently in front of you was Yuji who was going on about a story of Megumi’s past of middle school delinquency.

“You actually beat people up Megumi?” you asked, only for him to try to hide his face behind the menu, it was kinda cute. “It wasn’t.. just the ones who deserved it, and it was a long time ago anyways.”

“He’ll barely ever admit it, me and Nobara didn’t know till for a school event with our highschool we went to visit middle schools in the area and when we went to Megumi’s these two guys were so scared of him!”

“Can you not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, “What made them deserve you beating them up?” You were interested in this ‘past life’ of his. Although still red in the face, he answered, “They were assholes, they pissed me off.” Yuji laughed at Megumi only for Megumi to respond with a grumble. “Well I haven’t known you that long, but you don’t seem like the type to purposely be a bully, so i’m sure they were assholes.”

“Did you know-” Yuji was cut off by the waitress arriving ready to take your guys order, and Megumi had to thank whatever power was out there that he had no other chance to embarrass him in front of you.

After the waitress had left, you decided to continue on the conversation with something less directed at Megumi. “So I don’t think I ever asked your majors, are you both film?” “I am” Yuji answered “It’s fun in all honesty, even with all the editing and camera stuff we got to figure out.” You gave a small hum in return, turning to look at Megumi as he began to speak “Photography, I’ve always enjoyed it.”

“Well it’s good you guys like it. It makes everything better when you enjoy it.”

“Do you like your major y/n?” Megumi asked.

“Yeah, it’s fun and I really enjoy the process! The hardest thing about being in fashion though is probably deadlines, and you have to be able to take criticism, which absolutely kills some people.” Megumi laughs a little at your last statement, “That’s Yuji.” You turned to look at him across the table, seeing him let out a dramatic gasp, then pout. “That’s you too don’t lie! You complained last semester about Haibara because he told you that you can’t just keep submitting pictures of your dogs for like every other project!”

“Shut up.”

Author’s Note: Megumi expecting cheap prices from a restaurant only for Yuji to order more.

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn

[lightlycareless]

Can you do hc for what a daddy-daughter date with Naoya would look like? 🥺

Hello!!!

OF COURSE I CAN AAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THISSSSSSSS

I believe I ended up describing Naomi a bit more than Naoya, but, you know, it's still cute and I enjoyed writing it :) jsgfhajksghjas I still looove these domestic hc's, please keep 'em coming.

warnings: none. fluff. family stuff. naoya is a loving father. but so insecure. you have a daughter named naomi and she is adorable. lots of hello kitty.

Happy reading!

You message was clear and direct, unmistakable in the neatly written note found on the bedside table…

“Don’t forget I’m going to be away today and tomorrow! Everything Naomi related is already set so you don’t have to worry about anything, but my staff will remain attentive if anything arises.

This is the perfect opportunity for the two to spend time together too! Our little princess misses her papa dearly, so be sure to make the best out of these days 💖 I love you, my beloved husband, see you soon!!”

Naoya won’t deny that your words made him quite anxious, primarily for the fear of not providing his daughter with the entertaining evening she deserved. It had been so long since the two spent any time together, just the two of them, that Naoya had began to believe he was not a good father at all.

Were there any indications, outside of your comforting words, that Naomi wanted to be with him in the first place?

Yes. Naomi had unconditionally showed her love and appreciation for him, from the video calls he’d make on a daily basis, to her reaction upon learning he was finally to return home… it’s clear that she’s happy to see her papa!

And yet, his insecurities would continue to pry at the back of his mind, telling him he was not good enough—never compared to you.

“Naomi loves you, Naoya! So much that when she learns you’re coming back it’s all she talks about! So don’t be afraid of spending time with your baby, I know she wants to be with you as much as you do.”

Naoya has to thank you for always managing to pull him back to earth whenever the darkness of his thoughts overwhelms him. And such, he prepares himself to give his daughter the best day she could ever imagine, and without anyone’s help!

… Or so he hopes.

“Papa… good morning.” Naomi yawns when picked up by her father, him chuckling at the sight of her unruly bed hair—it was perhaps his favorite sight, to see the back of her black hair stand up like a duck’s butt, accompanied by her drowsy chubby face that sometimes had drool in it; Symbol of a good rest.

“Good morning, little mochi. Did you sleep well?” Naoya asks, taking her to the bathroom to clean her up.

“Mmhmm!” she nods, rubbing her eyes.

“Don’t rub too harshly, princess.” He warns, retrieving a lukewarm towel and cleaning her face. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Where’s mama?” Naomi wonders, looking around as if hoping to see you.

“She’s with grandpa, remember? He needs her help, so she left.”

Naomi frowns, trying to remember when you said such a thing. Naturally, she doesn’t, but it’s not like it bothers her much—not when she has a long day full of fun coming up.

“What are we going to do?” She asks, a grin appearing on her lips as ideas begin to appear in her mind. “Oh, I know!! We can go to the park, or—or we can go to the zoo…”

“Actually, I already have something prepared that I know you’ll like.” Naoya responds with a smile, pinching her cheek. Naomi’s eyes widen, full of curiosity.

“A kitten?!” The little girl gasps.

Naoya’s right eye twitches, feeling to have unwittingly shot himself on the foot with such phrasing. So much caution in avoiding the subject, just for him to come along and ruin all of their efforts! The thought of a pet is something you and Naoya hoped to consider until she was much older…

Well, thankfully, today’s date will distract her; for now.

“No, something even better.”

She frowns skeptically, a hilarious sight that Naoya tries his best to not laugh at. Her dramatic expressions were always ones to enjoy, though neither knew whom she took after for them. (Naoya)

“But I won’t tell you, you have to see it.”

“Papaaaaa!! Tell me!!” she insists.

“Nope.” He shrugs. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Not fair, Papa!!” She crosses her arms, upset. “I won’t go if you don’t tell me!”

“Then I guess we won’t get ice cream from that place you love so much.”

The good thing about her young age is that it doesn’t take much for her to fold. Just the right words and she’s back to the cheerful, energetic girl she always was—though these “retaliations” have become a bit more common than before, probably a sign that his baby girl isn’t much of a baby anymore, a reminder of how much he’s missed of her life already…

Well, he’s here now, gotta make up for all he’s lost.

“I’m ready papa, I’m ready!” Naomi cheered as soon as Naoya changed her out of her pajama, a half-truth for her hair as messy as it was found.

Per routine, you’d be the one to get her ready by now. From choosing her clothes the day before, to styling her hair, everything that entailed Naomi you took care of.

But since you weren’t here… well, Naoya’s reminded yet again that he doesn’t know much of his baby daughter. Not even how to do her hair! Could he even consider himself a deserving father?

“Is everything alright?” It was Mariya, knocking on the bathroom door before entering. You didn’t need to tell her to keep an eye on your husband to know he’d struggle with Naomi. In fact, as soon as he saw her enter the bathroom, she remained close, just in case she was needed—and that, she was.

“Oh, good morning, Mariya.” Naoya murmurs, slightly embarrassed to be found in the middle of his… crisis. “Yeah, everything is fine…”

“Hello Mariya-nee!!” Naomi grins, waving her chubby little hands at her. Mariya waves back.

“I can help you with that, Naoya.” She offers, stepping closer to the two.

“I—”

“It’s fine. One step at a time.” Mariya reassures him.

Naoya presses his lips together, hesitant to accept her help before obliging, understanding she was there to support him, not judge. Your entourage wasn’t like his, or his family. Thankfully.

“… Thank you.” Naoya quietly says, she smiles.

“Just worry about having fun with Naomi and taking pictures for Y/N, you have no idea how upset she’ll be if you don’t.”

“I know, I know.” Naoya chuckles. “I already have everything ready for that.”

“And you, Naomi, don’t forget to go easy on your dad!” Mariya teases, pinching her cheek. “Or to be cute when he takes pictures of you!”

“But I’m always cute!”

“That, you are.” Mariya then hugs her, kissing the top of her head before leading them over to the exit. “Have a safe trip and a nice day! We’ll be waiting for your return.”

“Goodbye!!” Naomi waves from the car seat. “See you later!!!”

And as Naoya drives away, he silently prays that his surprise he doesn’t ruin Naomi’s enthusiasm, or he’ll never show his face to you ever again.

“Papa, where are we going? Are we there yet??” Naomi whines, tired of watching the city pass her while tightly holding onto her favorite Hello Kitty plushie, wiggling her legs to accentuate her boredom.

“Almost there, princess. Just a few more minutes.” Naoya responds.

“…you said that a while ago… I wanna know!”

“It’s a surprise, and what good would it be if I tell you?”

“I don’t like surprises!” she exclaims, Naoya laughs.

“Now, no need to lie.”

“…I’m sorry. I’m bored.” 

“We’re almost there.” He says once more upon entering a parking lot, taking Naomi out of her seat, holding her hand before heading towards the busy streets. “We just gotta walk a bit.”

“I don’t wanna walk…” Naomi murmurs, holding his hand even tighter. She never liked crowded places, made her nervous; you and Naoya didn’t know whether to worry or to be glad…

“Alright—up you go.” Naoya smiles, wrapping Naomi with his arms and carrying her. “It’s just a bit more, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

And it happened just as he anticipated, if not better, for as soon as the two were a mere feet away from their destination, Naomi abruptly goes silent, eyes wide as she observed the well-known figure of her favorite feline mascot, with a brightly light sign that further justified her reaction appearing before her:

Hello Kitty Café.

Naoya was right in assuming this was the right place to bring Naomi, having set his attention on it after reading about it online. He waited for Naomi to be just a bit older so she could enjoy it even better, but it never left his mind. Of course, he would’ve wanted to make this occasion even better with your presence, but a part of him wanted to keep something… exclusive between the two. You already took your daughter to all places unimaginable, leaving almost nothing he could compete with!

Though one place would remain off limits until the three could attend, and you agreed. A particular amusement park that he was sure would completely freeze her, if she was already overwhelmed with a simple café…

“What is it, pumpkin? Cat got your tongue?” Naoya teases, making Naomi turn even redder, quickly hiding her face on the crook of her father’s neck out of embarrassment. “Aww, mochi…”

“Papa!” Naomi she squeaks. “It’s a—it’s a Hello Kitty—!”

“I know, I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “Want to go inside?”

“Yes!!” She gasps, wiggling her way out of her father’s arm and down to the ground, where she’d sprint right to the entrance, cheerfully greeted by the hostess who seemed to enjoy observing the excitement of children when coming to this place—one of the many perks of the job.

Naoya had reserved a table in advance, obviously the most luxurious one could get a restaurant like that anyways, with all the commodities included: for not only did it serve as a café, but also a place where Naomi could get a complete makeover.

From hair, nails, makeup, even clothes and shoes—it had it all, and to make it even better, with items donning her favorite Sanrio characters.

“Papa!! Papa!!!” Naomi gasps, a small finger eagerly tapping the menu, particularly the image of the vanilla and strawberry ice cream decorated with a hello kitty cookie—it may not be much, but for an innocent girl who had never seen such a thing, nor thought it possible, it might just be the greatest discovery yet. “Look!! They have Hello Kitty ice cream!!”

“We can order it if you want.”

“Yes!! I want it!!” She grinned, looking over to the rest of the menu. “Or the—or the hamburger! Or… cake too!”

“One at a time, pumpkin. We can also take the cake back home to mama, you know. But at least get something to eat for breakfast.”

“Yes!” She nodded. “Or we can bring mama too.”

Naoya’s heart flutters at the thought of spending time with his family. Seeing you and his daughter giggle at whatever the latter makes up. Spoiling his girls with whatever they want, though he’d have a certain preference for you, wanting to reward all that you’ve done for him while he was away completing missions he often tries to convince himself as necessary.

The reason why he did all of this. To see the two happy.

He misses you dearly. Please come back home soon.

Naomi would continue to order whatever her little heart desired, though she wouldn’t take more than just a bite from them. Probably just wanting to try them out and that was it—and Naoya knows that as her father he shouldn’t let her be so careless with her selections, but as her father, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to indulge his little princess.

Neither on the food, nor the souvenirs Naomi had more than enough back home… which she of course had to have because they were limited edition. From the keychain she’d come to place on her school backpack, to the huge, almost life-sized Hello Kitty plush Naoya ordered the workers to ship to the estate as soon as possible, just so it’d be there when they returned home.

And we still had the makeover to go through, another thing Naoya rightfully assumed she would enjoy given the way she’d intently stared at you when getting ready—as well as that one time he caught her wearing your lipstick. So adorable…

Either way, as soon as Naomi jumped onto the chair and the hairdresser draped her over with a cape, she was given a somewhat extensive catalogue to choose from, naturally inclining for…

“Hello Kitty!” Naomi chirped, pointing at the picture of the little girl with two buns on the top of her head, long hair in the back, and of course, an iconic red bow to adorn. “This one!”

“Alright, sweetie.” The woman smiles, getting ready to work but not before giving Naoya one last look, as if seeking confirmation to proceed, or perhaps even something else… what sometimes follows when a woman sees an apparently single father being highly doting to his daughter…

But he was quick to shut her down, one stern, cold look and a glance of his wedding band was enough to put her back into place. The Naomi’s mother, coincidentally the love of his life, was very much still in the picture, and he’d like to keep it that way.

It was almost comical how oscillating Naoya behaved between the two, attentive and caring with his daughter, but strict and stern with the hairdresser. He wouldn’t be if he hadn’t noticed her intentions…

Yet, he wasn’t going to let that affect Naomi’s excitement, overflowing happiness for being dressed up as her favorite character of all time, with that red bow she always dreamed of wearing (she has many at home, but it always felt like the first time whenever you put it on her), alongside that glittery make up she’d always hoped to one day wear as well, followed by a dress that made her look even cuter, inspired by the colors of the same mascot, with kitten heels to spare—ending up look as a small version of Hello Kitty. Cuter, Naoya must admit.

Lastly, she’d proceed with a manicure, a thin coat of nail polish with stickers of different Sanrio characters; Naoya had previously asked that she be given something that wasn’t too hard to remove later. She was still a kid, after all, she’d have the rest of her life if she wanted to do something permanent.

… As well as all the motivation in the world to convince him into getting his nails done as well.

“Come on, papa!” Naomi insists, showing him her nails. “You too!”

“I—I don’t know…” He responds hesitantly. “I don’t think I’ll look good with them—”

Not that it mattered beyond that, for the moment she pouted Naoya was nothing but putty in her hands—stickers placed across his nails, as many as could fit thanks to Naomi’s persistence.

He could imagine the kind of comments his family would shoot at him, but Naoya had long declared that whatever they had to say wasn’t of his interest. He was doing this for his daughter, and that was unmistakable.

“How do I look?!” Naomi exulted once she was ready, her face bright with excitement as she showed off her dress.

“Beautiful, darling.” He smiled, leaning down to pinch her cheek—almost ruffling her hair. Good thing he remembered to not ruin her pretty princess’ look before he regretted it. She never quite liked it when he did that. “Come on, let’s take a picture so mama can see you—over there, with Hello Kitty.”

“Hello Ki…?”

If she was already overwhelmed by seeing this thematic café, how she felt upon seeing her favorite character standing before her, waving at her, was simply… indescribable.

Naomi stood frozen, perfectly still as the mascot continued to greet her, hoping to either warm her up into responding or another type of reaction, anything really, since Naomi was just… there.

Attempting to take in what was happening in front of her—

Before she started to cry when she finally did.

“Naomi?!” Naoya gasped, walking over to her and kneeling to her height. His overprotective nature led him to believe something was wrong, something he had to fix, but after hearing her small sobs, the murmurs revealing how happy she was to see Hello Kitty there, as well as how she walked over to hug her, he soon understood her reaction.

She was simply thrilled to have met her favorite character.

Oh, what was going to happen when he finally took her to Sanrio Puroland? Was she going to pass out?!

Thankfully, that is something that he won’t have to deal with alone, having already scheduled days off where he’d take you and little Naomi on a small holiday, this stop simply being one of many in the itinerary.

“Pa—papa—it’s—it’s—” Naomi cries, looking over to him yet tightly holding onto Hello Kitty who attempted to comfort her by patting her back.

“Oh, pumpkin, you don’t need to cry.” He laughs, carefully rubbing away her tears. “You’re going to ruin your pretty make up and upset Hello Kitty; She’s very excited to see you too, you know, and you wouldn’t want that, right?”

Naomi’s lips tremble as shakes her head, mouthing a quiet no as she cleans her face. Once better, Naoya asks her to stand next to Hello Kitty, pose for mama’s picture, which Naomi did to the best of her ability, teary-eyed as she smiled.

Naoya smiles, chuckling at how Naomi cheerfully shared her day with Hello Kitty, as if catching up with her life-long best friend, while reminiscing the joys of being a father to a daughter so adorable he was proud to call his.

From her smile, to her giggles, to her pout and frown…

Naomi was perfect in every sense of the word, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

There was no question about it, with his insecurities out of his mind, there was no space for doubt anymore. Especially not during the drive back home, after a long day of exciting adventures, when a sleepy Naomi confided in him with the words that would make his heart soar.

“Today was the best day of my life!” Naomi declared with a yawn, tightly hugging one of her new plushies as she began to slowly drift deeper into slumber. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, pumpkin.”

Indeed, Naoya was a good father, the one that Naomi loved very, very much.

TLDR: Naoya may not be able to do a lot of thing since he's greatly absent, but he makes sure you and Naomi have everything. Also, he's a big spender on Naomi, and it won't take long before she figures that out to her (further) advantage.

Shall I write about their time at puroland? Now I'm really curious about Naomi's reactiong hahahahahaha if anyone wants me to... I mean... I guess..... lol. 😏

Anyways, I want to thank you so much for sending in this!! It was really cute, ajgkjakghasjkghajksg Naomi is just 🥺💖💖💖💖 I love her. (That ending is..... sad considering other things hahaha IGNORE ME DAMMIT I ruined it :( )

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[thebramblewood]

Caleb finally eats some good food and hears some hard truths. Now shall we join him on a trip down memory lane? 👀

Previous / Next

Grace: Stop snacking! You’ll ruin your appetite.

Caleb: Oh, how I wish that were true.

Grace: I don’t know how you can stand to eat those things raw.

Caleb: By necessity. I’m afraid I still lack any culinary finesse.

Grace: They’re certainly a finicky fruit. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a sprinkling of magic, though.

-

Caleb: Exquisite as usual, Grace.

Grace: I’ll trust your taste. Even cooked, I don’t quite have the constitution for the stuff.

Caleb: And for that you should be grateful.

Now, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to lately.

Caleb: Well… [heaves weary sigh] How much time do you have?

-

Grace: So let me get this straight. You turned her, you passed her off as dead, you dumped her unconscious body in a graveyard, and you haven’t spoken to her since?

Caleb: [mutters weakly] I wrote her a letter.

Grace: Caleb, no! You’re even more dramatic in writing. You probably scared the poor girl to death. And now she’s out there all alone!

Caleb: [defensively] I’d never done it before, and there was no time to plan. I left her some things…

Grace: You know the literature frontwards and backwards! The sire/newborn relationship is vital to the development-

Caleb: It seemed more important to protect her from Lilith.

Grace: [softly] The best way to protect her would be to leave Lilith in the dust. You managed it once.

Caleb: Which ended so well.

Grace: What happened to Morgyn wasn’t your fault, but you used it to justify going back. You deserve better.

Caleb: The difference between us, Grace, is I’m not sure I deserve anything at all.

Grace: God, you and your eternal self-loathing! You’ve risen above what she tried to turn you into. You have more humanity than almost anyone I know. Why can’t you extend a little compassion to yourself?

Caleb: Because I failed to protect the person I loved when it mattered most! Yet I was able to save this girl I barely know. It doesn’t make sense.

Grace: Some things are just senseless, Caleb. There was nothing anyone could have done. I hate how they went out as much as you do. But the Sages had been staving off death for decades. They were vulnerable despite their power, and the universe was eager to take them. This girl is young, full of potential. Frankly, I’m not sure you have moral ground to stand on with your sister or anyone else if you don’t help her.

-

Grace: You aren’t upset with me, are you?

Caleb: Of course not. You never mince words, and I never take your advice lightly.

Grace: I hope you’ll come by again soon. Emilia and Tomax would love to see you.

Caleb: [noncommittal shrug] They were always more Morgyn’s friends than mine.

Grace: That may have been true at first, but we all grew quite fond of you. I know we didn’t come up with much before, but we could always start looking into cures again if-

Caleb: That’s a conversation for another time. Good night, Grace.

Grace: [crestfallen] Good night.

[vodika-vibes]

can you do kix x reader where kix sees reader talking with keeli and gets jealous but reader is actually asking keeli about his twin kix?

Jaloux

Summary: Jealousy is not the best look for a man of his temperament, but when he catches the woman he’s been crushing on for months flirting with Keeli, there’s no stopping the burn of jealousy.

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 1352

Warnings: Reader is described as having long hair, reader is described as getting a perm

A/N: This was fun to write! My sun lamp is working and I can focus a little better.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“I’m so glad to be back on Coruscant!” 

Kix tosses a grin towards the woman lounged, dramatically, on one of the beds in his medbay, “What’s wrong? You didn’t enjoy the swamp?”

She sits up and points at him, “I am far too young to enter my swamp witch phase.” She drops her hand, and pulls her hair out of the strict knot she normally keeps it in while she’s working, “Besides, that place was awful. I’ve never seen so many men get so sick from pollen before. I thought you all were immune to allergies.”

“So did I,” Kix replies with a laugh, “Guess the long necks didn’t cover everything.”

“Guess not.” She combs her fingers through her hair, and Kix can’t help but watch the way her hair tumbles around her shoulders. She might be the most stunning woman he’s ever met.

She should wear her hair down more often…but also, he’s glad she doesn’t. He’d never accomplish anything if she did.

“Anyway,” Kix shakes himself from his daydream (which involves her in his bunk, her hair spread like a halo around her head-) “What are your plans back on Coruscant? Bar hopping? Clubbing?”

She laughs, and Kix falls a little harder for her, “Do you really take me for the bar hopping type?”

He laughs softly, “No, not really. Especially since you shy away from Hardcases’...uh…chemical genius.”

“I’m fairly sure that what he brewed should be classified as a chemical weapon, rather than a drink. I can’t believe you drank it.” She folds her arms, “You deserved that hangover.”

“Yeah, but you’re a paragon of kindness and mercy and nursed us all back to health.” 

“You’re lucky that Rex begged me to help.”

“Rex was just as hungover as we were.” Kix points out.

“Ugh. I work with a bunch of children.”

Kix laughs again, “We’re not so bad.”

The look she shoots him is slightly exasperated, though it quickly morphs to a grin, “I suppose you could be worse.” She finally hops off the bed, and stretches her arms in front of her, “Are you all packed?”

“Are you? I keep most of my stuff here.”

She makes a face, “Oh yeah.” She pauses, “But I do have everything packed.” 

The familiar feeling of the Resolute settling in drydock rattles across the ship, and Kix smothers a quiet sigh. He’s going to miss seeing her everyday. Sure, he’ll still see her at the base, but it’s not the same. 

He likes eating breakfast with her. She isn’t able to function without a cup of caf, it’s hilarious. He also likes needling her about her breakfast habits.

As the ship comes to a stop, and the announcement comes over the intercom announcing that all of the civilian employees can disembark, she grins at him and grabs her bag from the floor, “I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Yeah, of course.” Kix wants to say more to her. He wants to confess, or to ask her out on a date, but the words seem to stick in his throat. So, instead, he offers her a small smile and an absent wave, as she leaves the medbay.

It’s only a few days. 

Maybe he’ll work up the nerve to ask her out the next time he sees her.

The next time Kix sees her, it’s a whole week later. 

He almost doesn’t recognize her when he sees her across the massive room. Her long hair has been cropped to her shoulders, and dyed a deep blue that is the same shade as the blue on his armor. And, as he moves closer, he sees that she has a new tattoo on her left shoulder. 

It looks like an array of flowers wrapped around the medic symbol.

It suits her.

He weaves through the throng of his brothers, there are several battalions here, so he’s able to get to her, though he slows when he sees her talking to Keeli.

He slows his walk and he just watches them interact.

She looks…delighted. Laughter written clearly on her face, leaning in so she’s able to hear him better, reaching out to lightly touch his forearm when he says something.

And Kix burns.

He’s never been the jealous type, at least he never has been in the past.

But watching this, Kix realizes that maybe he just never had reason to be properly jealous before.

He takes a deep breath and swallows his jealousy, before he continues walking over to the pair. 

“There you are,” Keeli folds his arms, “You’re late, vod’ika.”

“Come off it, we were decanted at the same time.” Kix counters, “And I wasn’t late, anyway. I was just on the other side of the room.”

“Hey Kix!” She grins at him, “Did you really dare one of your batchmates to jump into the ocean when you were a cadet?”

Kix blinks at her, and then turns an accusing glare on his twin, “Really?”

“Really.” Keeli agrees with a grin, “Anyway, my General is calling. See you later vod, Doc.”

Keeli saunters off, with Kix glaring at his back, and then he turns to look at her, “You shouldn’t believe anything he said about me as a cadet, he’s a horrible liar.”

She laughs, “I’d believe that if you weren’t blushing, Kix.” She brushes a blue curl off her cheek, and favors him with a grin, “It’s alright, everyone does dumb things as kids. It’s a side effect of being a kid, you know?”

Kix flashes a tiny smile, “Yeah? What did you do?”

She shrugs, “I tried to sell my brother for a handful of credits. And then mom found out and I was grounded for three years.”

That makes him laugh, “Well, I suppose I’m less embarrassed now.” He reaches out and tugs on one of her curls, “This is new.”

“Yeah, I wanted something new, so I got a perm and a dye.”

“And a new tattoo.”

“Yeah,” she pauses, “What do you think?” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that she sounded a little self-conscious.

“Well, you look like you belong with the 501st now,” He teases, though then his smile softens, “I think you look great. But I always think you look great.” A blush rises on her cheeks, so Kix continues, “You make the rest of us look bad.”

“You’re exaggerating. You and your brothers are very handsome,”

It’s the first time Kix has ever heard her make a comment about his appearance, she normally sidesteps the question when someone asks, so he inches a little closer, “You think I’m handsome?” He asks with a grin.

“Are you going to make this a thing?”

“Am I more handsome than Keeli?”

She stares at him and then she sighs, “I know you better than I know Keeli, so yeah. Stop being jealous, it’s silly.”

“...I’m not jealous.”

“You are. It’s kind of cute, and totally ridiculous.” She stretches her arms over her head, and then, without looking at him, continues, “After all, everyone knows you’re my favorite.”

Unlike the way that he burned earlier, at the thought of Keeli flirting with her, now he just feels pleasantly warm. “That right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

He hesitates for a moment, and then bumps her gently, “You know, there’s a botanical garden not far from here, it’s home to the most poisonous flowers in the galaxy. You wanna go?”

“Kix, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, I am. If you want.”

A bright grin crosses her face, “It’s about time,” She finally turns to look at him, “Yes, please. I’d like to go on a date with you.”

The pair fall into a comfortable silence for a moment, and then Kix glances at her, “You know, you could have asked me on a date.”

“Jesse said that you would prefer a more…traditional relationship.” She shrugs, “I just trusted his word.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Kix grumbles and then her words fully register, “Wait, relationship?”

“Yeah, Kix. Relationship.”

“Huh.” He stares at the side of her head, “I can work with that.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Characters With Addiction

From @differentnighttale: "I am curious if you give advice about writing people with addictions for example substance. I have reasons my male MC does it. But how can I describe the addictions the MC has correctly."

In this post we are going to be talking about addiction! From alcoholism, substance abuse, nymphomania, to everything else that can be a possible addiction. This post will be all about making this realistic and complex :)

A) What Are The Benefits?, Make It Convincing

Grab a fucking piece of paper or whatever you have and just write a paragraph from your addict's perspective on the situation. Omit the bad stuff. Make it highly convincing. if you aren't thinking "hmm, understandable" after you've written and read it, you did it wrong.

What do they get out of it?

Why did they like it at first?

Are they calmer, more intensely concentrated, does it take the edge off?

Are they more confident?

Does it ease the sense of being fundamentally wrong or dull some other pain?

Is it fun to do something rebellious?

What made them like this thing so much they tried it again, and again, and again?

B) Think About The Consequences, And Ignore It

Oftentime, at least in my experience, people will continue with a bad habit if it means they don't have to be the one to think about the consequences.

The Consequences For Addiction Include:

Financial. Depending on what your character uses to get their fix and how much they use, they might be spending hundreds a week if they are a particularly aggressive user. People often steal money from their loved ones. Addiction also tends to get people fired. Write a scene where your drunk character gets fired for operating machinery. Have them be a burdenous sponge.

Social. It's common for addicts to lose their loved ones since it often gets to a point where it's impossible to care about these people despite how much you love them. Make love ones leave your character! And don't blame them

Physical. STDs, Overdose, Liver Failure, and a shit ton of other issues from the chronic to the fatal either cause, exacerbate, or are linked with addiction. Recovery can't automatically save your character so don't write that story.

Psychological. Being an addict isn't fun since you get to struggle with points 1, 2, and 3 all at the same time! Write about your character issues. Their lack of control. Their spiralling life.

Write all about your character's suffering. And then have them justify it. Make it convincing.

They need it. It's not their fault that this is the only that helps them! Everyone just doesn't get it. I'm trying to work on it, OK?! It'll all work out! They know that it's wrong but...

My most hated shit is when a character's arc is easy. They struggle with some things like a big dramatic argument with their wife, they cry a bit, and then they learn that "drugs are bad" so everything is fine :D

NO!!! Why don't you write about a friendship that doesn't get mended? A chronic illness they now have to pay huge medicine bills for? A fucked-up rap sheet that they can't escape?

And it's not because we want to punich addicts. It's because it doesn't matter if you care about addicts if you don't care about the messy shit!

It's easy to sympathize with an addict if you make them the most innocent victim who never hurts someone intentionally and who gets rid of the addiction in a second and never struggles with it ever again!

Do the hard shit. Make your readers sympathize with the unsympathetic asshole addict! Addicts aren't always good people! They can be dickbags. And they still deserve resources. Life isn't some kind of karma game where dickbags suffer and good people rise! Everyone deserves to not suffer!

Addiction is ultimately a disease. But it's a disease that can make someone you love into an absolutely unlikeable person. And this is coming from someone with an alcoholic dad <3 He does good things and bad things. I can sympathise with my dad and not let him walk all over me.

C) Withdrawal Is Leaving An Ex, Relapse Is Returning

Addiction is a motherfucker trying to leave. It's basically the equivalent of a clingy ex who keeps contacting you, asking for just one conversation, and the moment you so much as acknowledge them you are fucked.

And suffering the brunt of a clingy ex who won't take the hint tends to cause the same symptoms as withdrawal!

Obviously, withdrawal symptoms depend on what type of ex you have and what age you are and yada yada yada. Research for specificity :)

Withdrawal symptoms can include:

Headaches

Insomnia

Fatigue

Hallucinations

Seizures

Tremors

Cravings

etc.

BE AWARE: Relapses are when someone returns back to their drug if they were going cold turkey or going back to their original dose. Relapses can sometimes result in an overdose due to the fact that the brain has been weened off the substance and is now overwhelmed by the high dose.

Relapses often happen when a person makes the deliberate choice in order to stop these fucking nightmarish symptoms. To use the analogy of a clingy ex, you start talking to them in order to tell them to stop contacting.

Relapses can also happen through being in a setting where the behaviors associated with the addiction such as sex, gambling, drinking, substance use, and all manner of things are normalized.

This setting could be a party, a bar, or even a friend group.

Relapse is made more likely if someone is self-detoxing away from a support group or a doctor.

Writing about withdrawal and relapses are an important part in making a story feel more authentic. Just like with mental illness, people rarely learn the lesson and follow it perfectly. They make mistakes. Slip back into old habits. Do shitty things.

We aren't writing their suffering to punish them. We are doing it because you can't say you care if all you are willing to do is look at the easy parts.

D) Little Tidbits To Keep Track Off

This is the miscellanious things that didn't fit into their own boxes.

Friends!

Do they have friends who also have their addiction? How do they hang out? What are they like? How are their substance using friends different from their non-addict ones?

Slang!

Don't just look up slang for your substance of choice. You'll need to look at some first-hand accounts of addiction. Find an influence who has struggled with substance abuse in the past and see how they talk about it!

Variables!

Remember to keep their geographical location, socioeconomic status, time, and a host of other factors. If your character is a penniless alcoholic then it's unlikely they'll get their hands on some type of expensive gin. They'll probably use rubbing alcohol. Keep the price of your drug in mind.

A character's status will also impact their slang. No one unironically says doobie anymore.

A character's location will also impact how they get their shit and how other characters will react to that addiction.

A character's financial status also impacts how the consequences of their actions impact them. A low-income character wont be able to afford the same medication as a rich addict. They also won't have the same luxury for quality therapy, rehab, programs, time, anything really.

Look At The Addict And The Loved Ones

Try not the skew the reality of addiction to paint the addict as the victim and the loved ones as evil for not being forgiving and tolerant enough.

Keep sympathy for both the addict and the loved ones. Or drop sympathy for both of those characters.

E) RESOURCES

FDA and DEA online databases and drug resources

Social Networking Groups

Medical Journals

Local medical professionals, police, and medical examiners

The US national poison center

[spockandstars]

I think that a lot of people take issue with the way the Spock/Chapel/T'Pring love triangle is presented in Strange New Worlds, but that sometimes this is dismissed as fans just being bitter spirk shippers. So here are a few reasons why I believe people are iffy on this plotline. (Disregarding the fact that we're disappointed that the showrunners didn't, and most likely won't, take the chance to do something really cool with Spock's legacy as a queer coded character...)

Firstly, it takes time away from other characters to address an element of Spock's story that has already been explored beautifully. (I will get into how this treats Chapel and T'Pring later...) Spock's struggle with his humanity and his anguish over the depth of his feelings for others (particularly Jim) is a focus in TOS and the movies, and if you're going to keep on talking about it, at least do it in a more creative way? This isn't to say that it shouldn't be acknowledged at all, seeing that it is a lifelong struggle for him, but by making it such a focus of the series they're not giving other interesting characters as much of a chance to develop.

Additionally, it has traditionally been understood that Spock coped with his inner turmoil by repressing his feelings. Over the course of his lifetime, he learns to embrace his human side more to become a more balanced and healthy person. SNW takes the approach of "young Spock was more human and horny!" which isn't necessarily bad, but they better be giving us an explanation for how he transforms so dramatically to the extremely repressed character he is in TOS. Maybe this is reaching too far, but this whole approach of young Spock just feels like an excuse to get hot ladies into his bed and to fulfill the fantasies of nerdy men who project onto him. This is the same Spock who scoffed at the idea of going to see dancers at a bar, who was immune to the charms of the sexy ladies in Mudd's Women, who only entertained women when drugged or when he needed to do so for a mission...

Furthermore, I believe it's a disservice to Chapel. On one hand, it does make her love for Spock seem more grounded in reality, which I appreciate. In TOS, it's pretty clear that Spock doesn't share her feelings and her crush is only really ever used as a means of ridiculing her. There goes silly Chapel again, trying to win over her unrequited love! It's not cool. But on the same token, making Spock the focus of her character yet again only further reduces her to nothing but that. Why can't we let the girl breathe and do other stuff? Sure, she does get some of the AOS Uhura treatment where she gets to be a generic cool badass lady, but this is in a way that is lacking in any real depth. Chapel deserves better.

I also don't love the way it treats T'Pring. Was it really necessary for her to be Spock's eye candy wife that he gets to bang and cheat on? In Amok Time, it's heavily implied that this was an arranged thing and that they hadn't seen each other since they were seven. If they really felt the need to include this relationship, it would have been so much cooler if they had explored it from that angle, with neither of them truly wanting to be together but being forced into it by societal expectation. Which of course, results in T'Pring using her intelligence to gain her freedom in Amok Time.

So yeah. Those are my main gripes with this whole thing. Overall, I think it's lazy writing that allows the writers to benefit from the nostalgia of legacy characters without developing them in actually meaningful or revolutionary ways.

[gaybananabread]

Call me crazy (because I am), but the pile of Spiderverse stuff isn't tall enough. >w< If you're up for my nonsense, and it's available:

I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.

I'm biased, but I love #6 (Cuddles) with Gwen and Hobie. Lee!Gwen is my favorite, but a little close-combat tickle fight would be adorable.

#16 (Cackle) with Gwen as Lee, possibly a little comfort with her being embarrassed of her laugh. Miles obviously adores her laugh, and Hobie just likes making her happy.

#19 (Secret), How about a very funny secret identity reveal? >w< Miles gets some tickles from one or both of his parents, and through a folly of your choice (a minor injury, noticing his costume, or god forbid, him losing control of his powers) they realize that he's Spiderman.

#25 (New Discovery) Somewhere between the two movies, Gwen has been hanging around Hobie more and suddenly finds out that he's ticklish. Pavitr does not bail him out in the slightest.

I am very sorry. >w< I hope you have fun this year!

~Panda/Black Feathers

TickleTober Day 25 - New Discovery

~I've loved writing all your requests! These were so much fun; I'm gonna miss 'em. I can see Pav just tossing Hobie to the wolves with no remorse. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Hobie

Ler: Gwen (Pav instigates)

Summary: Gwen and Hobie's friendship is still relatively fresh, though it's still strong. Pavitr gets tired of their shenanigans and decides to help Gwen discover one of his favorite Hobie fun-facts.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

“H-hey, wait up!”

“Catch up, small fry!”

Gwen laughed as she chased after her newfound friend, feeling the wind rush through the breathable fabric of her spider suit. She'd been growing closer and closer to the punk, spending a decent amount of her free time in his amazingly chaotic dimension.

“No fair! You’ve got a better swing, you bean pole!” Gwen did a small flip out of her next swing, narrowly avoiding a street sign she almost hadn’t seen. Hobie laughed ahead of her, making the girl blush.

After six minutes of intense competition, the pair made it back to Hobie’s houseboat. Pavitr was already there, snacking on some of Hobie’s chocolates as he waited for them.

“Took you two long enough! Did you two argue again?” Pav chuckled, popping one of the orange cream chocolates in his mouth before Hobie could stop him.

“OI! Ge’ yer own sweets, ya moocher!” With an indignant squawk, Hobie snatched the rest of his chocolates back. As per usual, Pav had eaten all of the fruity ones. That boy was gonna pay…

“But yours are always so good! The ones from Gwen’s universe just aren’t the same,” he whined, trying to use his puppy-dog eyes to win himself a way out of trouble. The punk just rolled his eyes before placing the chocolate in the top of his pantry; to specify, his pantry whose ceiling wasn’t wide enough to climb on.

“Mean.” Pav’s lip jutted out in a pout, making Gwen giggle. She’d gotten closer to Pavitr first, but she was really warming up to Hobie. They were both amazing people, helping her to feel less alone.

“Maybe, but you deserve it.” Gwen teased the shorter teen, tasing his side. Pav jumped at the sudden feeling, giggling and batting at her hand.

“Hey! Noho need for such cruelty!”

Hobie snorted at Pav’s dramatics, using the boy’s shoulder as an armrest. “‘S not cruel, Pavi. Yer just too ticklish.”

“Says you! You are the mo- MMPH!” A hand over his mouth cut the shortest teen off, Hobie silencing him with a chuckle. The two had a playful tousle as Gwen tried to figure out what to do next. They’d just planned a hang-out, but not what they’d be doing.

“How about we watch a movie?” She wedged herself between the two bickering boys, stopping their playful argument from progressing any further. “Hobie can make us popcorn.”

…

After some light complaints from Hobie and a small debate over what to watch, the three had cuddled up on Hobie’s couch with a bowl of popcorn and some drinks. They were watching Spookley the Square Pumpkin for the fun of it.

As the three cartoon spiders moved across the screen, Hobie huffed. “I don’ see why they had to be such dicks abou’ the crown. Could’a jus’ shared it from the get-go.”

“It’s a kid’s movie, Hobie. Nobody ever does what they’re supposed to at first, or there wouldn’t be any plot.” Gwen leaned over to nudge his shoulder, sandwiched between the two teens.

“Hush. ‘M allowed to complain.” Hobie crossed his arms with a huff, sinking into the couch beside her. Before he could comment on the near impossibility of a naturally-grown square pumpkin, the lanky teen felt nails softly spidering up the back of his neck.

“Aww, c’mon! The spiders just wanted some-” Gwen was cut off by a strangled little squeal from Hobie. His dark cheeks burned as he shied away from her touch, smacking her hand away.

“Uh…what was that?” The playful look in Gwen's eyes gained a curious edge – one that shook Hobie to his core. Shit…

“Nothin’, don' worry ‘bout it.” He shoved at her face, his large hand covering her mouth before she could ask any more questions.

“Mmph- hey! What is with you and covering other people's mouths?” Gwen giggled before scooting closer, forcing herself farther into his personal space. The lanky teen tried shoving again, but she just pushed his hands away.

“Maybe ‘cuz you lot ‘re a bunch’a- GRK!” Hobie jerked as she squeezed his side, one hand flying to cover his mouth as the other grabbed her wrist. “Kn-knock ihit off, Gwendy…”

“Why should she? Is someone perhaps afraid of our new friend pointing out that he-”

“SHUT UP, PAV!”

The fluffy-haired boy narrowed his eyes at Hobie, tired of his snippiness. They both knew it was all in good fun, but he still wanted revenge.

“Gwen, go for his hips. I will go grab us some drinks for later.” Pav climbed off the couch, Hobie gaping at him as he sauntered off to the kitchen.

That cheeky little-

“ACK! SH-SHIHIHIHIT! GWEHEHEN!” Hobie jolted as he felt two sets of nimble fingers drilling into his hips. Pav was going to die later; for the moment, Hobie had bigger problems.

“I can't believe you're ticklish! Like, super ticklish!” Gwen seemed giddy at that fact, squeezing and scribbling all around Hobie’s sensitive hips. “You don't seem it, but… Well, wow!”

“S-STOHOHOP AHACTIN’ LIHIKE ‘M AHA CIRCUHUS AHAHACT!” Hobie bucked and thrashed beneath her touch, trying to knock the girl off him. She held strong, however, refusing to let him get away so easily.

“I will when you stop being entertaining,” Gwen quipped, not letting up for a second. Hobie was an easy-going guy with his friends, but he rarely ever lost himself like he was in that moment.

Gwen eased up a bit, moving both hands up to his sides. She wanted to tickle him, not push his boundaries.

“How long were you gonna keep this from me, huh? Friends are supposed to trust each other.” The girl smiled as she inched one hand towards his navel, making the punk kick and snort.

“I-ihihihit’s noho- *snort* Shuhu’ ihihit!” Hobie's loud laughs simmered down to bass-sounding giggles, the occasional snort slipping in with his breaths.

“Wow. What a clear, coherent answer.” Gwen rolled her eyes fondly as she continued to tickle him, noting the near complete lack of struggling. Sure, he was a squirmy mess, but he wasn't really trying to fend her off anymore.

“Hobs…do you like this?”

Even though her tone was nothing but innocently curious, Hobie's cheeks burned. He was not a self-conscious guy, but when something so close to his heart was questioned… Yeah, it didn't feel good.

“I-Ihihi- ihit’s nohohohot-” Hobie struggled to find the right words, struggling through his giggles. Noticing his sudden discomfort, she softened her tone considerably.

“Hey, I'm not judging. I like it too, Hobie. Just a question.” Gwen slowed her touch to a near-stop, just barely ghosting her fingers across his ribs. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

“N-nohoho, it's… I-I lihike it. Both wahahays.” Hobie broke eye contact as he answered her, a bit afraid of her response. She was the first person besides Pav and his few close friends that he'd told.

“Good to know. Which do you prefer right now? Or none, if that's what you want.” Gwen’s voice was soft with fond amusement, her eyes glittering. She was happy to have found another teen who enjoyed tickling the way she did.

“Mmhmhmph…gehettin’ ‘em.” Hobie leaned his head on her shoulder, hoping she'd leave it at that and not make him ask for anything else.

Gwen got the message and, thankfully, decided to have mercy.

“You got it, Hobs.” Gwen's fingers trailed up and down his sides and ribs, her fingers occasionally zipping down to skitter across his belly.

She worked methodically, pulling as many different types and volumes of giggles and laughs from the other teen. She was enjoying herself, doing whatever felt right and made them both smile.

Hobie stood strong and took the tickles for about seven minutes, just laughing his cares away. When he finally did reach his limit, he weakly smacked at her hands.

Gwen got the message, switching from tickles to back massages to try and calm him down. “Wohow, Hobie. You lasted, like, way longer than I ever could.”

“Sh-shuhuhush…” Hobie just blushed and hid his face in her neck, catching his breath. She was stupidly good at tickling… He'd have to remember that.

“Okay, you two! I made smoothies!” Pav’s cheery voice filtered in from the kitchen, making Hobie growl. That little shit had gotten him into the whole mess…

“Comin’, Pav.” Hobie glanced up at Gwen, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding.

That smug little goofball needs to be taken down a peg.