#i really hate how indecisive I can be sometimes

[frimoussette88]

Jonerys - Handporn

+ bonus

[goldustwomun]

all of me wants all of you (s.b.)

pairing: sirius black x younger potter!reader

summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. plus, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: angst so much angst, some healing as well, hugs from a concerned mother, more angst, more angst, fluff?, actual communication omg, do you ever meet someone's eyes and just one look from them has you breaking down and bawling, yeah :) , not proofread but i'll do it in the morning!!

wc: 3.3k+

note: i've been on some sort of writing kick so enjoy these daily updates D: anyway can y'all tell i'm MISSING my mum. only four more weeks though! x

pt i. / pt ii. / pt iii.

You were elbow deep in a sink of dirty dishes, your Mum towelling dry the plates next to you, when you finally came out and said it.

“Am I a disappointment, Mum?”

She froze right there, arms poised and plate hovering mid-air. It was only a second later when she recovered, gently placing the dish on the counter when she turned to look at you. Her head was titled in that concerned way of hers, and you’re not sure what it was about the look in her eyes – of hurt and worry and love – but the tears started flowing right then and there.

“Oh, my love, how could you ever think that?” she questioned, tugging you into her arms, not caring about the water from your hands or the tears from your eyes soaking her new cotton dress. She smelled of chamomile tea and custard creams and home. And as much as you thought you hated her sometimes; her reassurance was what you needed most when the world seemed out to get you.

“You could never disappoint me or Da’, you know that.” She pulled back, forcing you to look up into her eyes, noticing the shimmer across her own irises. “Tell me you know that my sweetest girl.”

“I—” and your voice broke but you kept going— “I don’t know if I do.” With a deep breath you tried to explain it all. “It just seems like everyone hates me sometimes. And I guess it, I’m difficult, I know that I am, but sometimes—I mean, a lot of the time, really, it feels like I can’t control it. When I argue and bicker and stomp away in a tantrum. It’s these feelings—I have so many, and I never know what to do with them, and it’s like drowning in indecision and I always make the wrong choice.”

“I know, love, I know,” she soothed, pulling you back in and smoothing her palm across your hair. You melted into her embrace like you hadn’t since you were ten years old. “You’re so much like me, you know? I swear, hear it every time we’re out with our friends. And when I was your age, I felt that way too. Lost and overwhelmed and like I wasn’t enough.”

“So, what did you do—to get rid of those feelings, I mean?” you asked, already dreading her answer.

“I didn’t. And you shouldn’t want to, either.” You almost lifted your head to argue but stopped yourself before you could. “Your emotions and feelings and thoughts and dreams—they make you who you are. Of course, it’s important to acknowledge the root of the ones that pester you the most and try to understand why they have such a hold over you. And maybe it’s my fault, really, for not saying it more, but we are so so proud of you.”

“I think you say it more to James and Sirius than you do to me,” you pointed out, a slight bite to your words but not enough to sting.

“James is, well, James. I can’t deny that he’s occasionally—” you raised your eyebrow incredulously at that and she responded with an amused eyeroll— “struggled with his classes and getting it together, so it seemed important to guide him in the right direction with praises. Sirius, on the other hand—well, we’re all he has. We just wanted him to feel loved.”

You nodded, understanding, but not sure how you fit into all of this. “Then you, my love. When you were younger you were always naturally good at things. I never understood where you got that from cause it certainly wasn’t from me. You put little effort into things and excelled, so maybe I got used to the idea that I knew you’d always be alright even if I didn’t say anything. But that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have withheld my pride out of laziness.”

“I don’t think you’re lazy, Mum,” you urged, but she hushed you with that stern voice of hers.

“I’m sure you don’t but shush because I won’t admit it again,” she scolded, her voice entirely mocking and somewhere between those tears, you managed a smile. “Your Da’ and I always knew you’d go on to do brilliant things. You’re intelligent, and passionate, and those muggle kids of yours adore you. You’re shaping their lives in ways you can’t even know, and they’re lucky to have you, just like I am, my sweet girl.”

She leaned forward, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“And do you hate that I live at home still?”

She reeled back, both shocked and confused. “of course not. We love having you here! It’s entirely selfish, really. Got to convert James’ old room into a study, as well as keep you around for the company and to help with chores. If anything, I don’t want you to move out,” she explained, serious. “Really, if you had more natural light in your room, we would’ve helped you to a new place the second you graduated from Hogwarts.”

You barked out a laugh at that, entirely believing her. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m wanted, or whatever.” You could feel your cheeks flaring at the thought of saying it out loud, but you ignored the feeling to relish in your Mum’s embrace a little while longer.

“Oh, yeah—whatever,” she teased, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from your face. “You could never disappoint me.”

All you could do was nod before your face dropped with apprehension. “What—what is it, love?” she asked, concerned herself.

“Well, you see, you say that now but I did something kind of dumb…” you trailed off, unable to confess just yet.

“What did you—you didn’t murder someone, did you? Because I love you but I don’t think I could manage Azkaban with those arthritis flare ups I’ve been getting.”

“What--! Mum, no, I didn’t—how could I? How could you think I’d be capable of murder?!” and really it had been the longest you’d gone without absolutely belting at someone.

“You are quite easily irritated,” she reasoned.

“If people stopped being so irritating—” you stopped, taking a deep breath, before confessing— “No, it’s both better and worse.”

“Go on,” she encouraged, but even she didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“I kissed Sirius.”

And it was like crickets between the two of you. Not a scolding shout or a cry of horror or—

“Okay… and is that it?” she asked bluntly.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’. It’s wild, unbelievable, otherworldly, even!” you sputtered, not quite comprehending the calm with which she was speaking.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, love. It’s not a good look,” and she pushed you out of the way to continue scrubbing at the dirty dishes, ignoring your stunned frame.

“Aren’t you going to ask me ‘why’?” you pushed, peering over her shoulder to check she was very much alive and breathing and not pranking you with a bit of some sort.

“I don’t need to, I know why,” she answered simply. You balked, tugging her shoulder back so she halted her movements and turned to face you.

“And what might that ‘why’ be?”

“It’s simple, really. You love him, you’ve always loved him. Since you were five and he pushed James into the dirt for stealing your copy of that Tiger, Wizard, and Cabinet’ book.”

You couldn’t help the way your hand slapped against your face right then, from exhaustion or exasperation, you weren’t sure. “It’s the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Mum,” you groaned.

“That definitely doesn’t sound right,” she pouted. “Anyway, he got the book back from James and you were so pleased you came up to me and said ‘Mummy, I think Sirius isn’t so bad after all, can we keep him?’. And when I explained the laws around owning human beings, you huffed and hid under the dining room table all day until you fell asleep.”

“Well, that does sound like me…”

“Of course, it sounds like you. I’m your mother,” she chided. “You didn’t start pretending to hate Sirius until you were about ten or eleven and he got that first girlfriend of his. What was her name—Lacey? Macey?”

“Stacey,” you chewed out, only to realise the anger with which you spoke her name despite never having known her. “Oh—”

“’Oh’ indeed. And what did you say to young Sirius after this kiss?” she pried, entirely engrossed in the story now as she rested her hip against the damp counter.

“I might’ve—you know---”

“No! you didn’t!” she burst out, already knowing exactly what you were going to say.

“I did, Mum, I did,” you moaned, pathetic and questioning if there was any way to rectify the situation, you’d found yourself in.

“Well, I can’t help you with that, love. You’re on your own, kid,” she explained, wiping her hands clean before sending you off (you weren’t entirely sure where, exactly) with a pat on your back.

If you were anyone else, you would’ve taken such an encouraging conversation and somewhat-healed trauma of your childhood as a sign to go speak with Sirius.

But no, lucky for you, you were you.

He hadn’t shown up to work all week, using the flu as an excuse. So when James and Lily invited you over for a small gathering— “Really, James, two parties in one month? What kind of home are you raising my nephew in!”—you hadn’t thought much of it, or him.

“Do let me know if I’ve got this correct– you’ve decided to host a fourth of July party despite not being American, or, now that I think about it further, ever having been to America?” you questioned, genuinely worrying for Lily’s sanity as she rocked a bumbling Harry on her lap, cheeks painted with red, white and blue stars.

“Well, when you put it like that,” James groused, pouting, arms folded against his chest despite being the adult that he was.

“How else would you put it, James?” you argued, exasperated.

Lily perked up at the sound of a potential fight and silenced the two of you with a single look. If anyone was made to be a mother, it had to be Lily. She was compassionate and kind and gentle, as much as she could scare you with a simple glance, she could soothe all your worries as well.

“Look, I just needed an excuse to have a beer, and what better excuse is there than this! The holiday of beers—” I thought that was St. Paddy’s “—Hush! Otherwise, I’d have to wait for someone’s birthday or, what’s the next holiday–? Halloween? That’s ages away.”

You smirked at his odd logic. “Obviously it doesn’t necessarily have to be very Americana or whatever. Red, white and blue– just close your eyes and pretend it’s the beloved Union Jack instead!”

The gathering wasn’t as big as the last one, and you recognised the few familiar faces as Lily and James’ closest friends: Remus, Marlene, Mary, Peter, Sirius—

Sirius? Your head whipped back in a double take, watching as he pulled Remus into a hug ‘hello’ right by the garden gate. He hadn’t noticed you, not yet, but it didn’t take long for his gaze to fixate right on you. You couldn’t read his face, not having ever quite mastered the skill, but this time especially, he looked dazed and withdrawn.

Even his smiled seemed tight, like he didn’t quite mean it, and your heart plummeted at the thought that you’d done that to him.

“I’ll be right back,” you offered, distracted, to James as he preoccupied himself with squeezing Harry’s chubby fist.

Sirius had gone straight inside, probably headed for the kitchen, and you followed suit, wondering what it was about your brother’s house that had the two of you both rushing to and avoiding confrontation.

You found him right where you had expected—peering into the dimly lit fridge and pulling out a bottle of beer.

“Sirius,” you said, announcing your presence as you let the door click shut behind you. Luckily, no one else was inside the house, rather taking in the one day of sunlight and light breeze in an otherwise damp English spring.

You watched as his shoulders tensed instantly, and you just knew he wanted to be anywhere else but there, with you, at that moment, but he turned to face you anyway.

“How can I help, Potter?” he asked, keeping his cards close to his chest still.

“Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now,” he pointed out, brow raised as he took a deep gulp of his drink, cringing at the taste.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” you pushed back, inching a step forward.

 “No, I don’t know what you mean,” he replied smoothly, seemingly untouched by the implication behind your words.

“You’re such a prick sometimes, Sirius.”

“And you’ve only just noticed? My, didn’t take you as slow, Potter,” he noted, mockingly, and you flinched at his casual cruelty.

“Don’t do that,” you scolded.

“Do what?” he fought back, “Speak my mind? Seems like you’re the only one allowed to do that around here, and when anyone dares contest, well, all hell breaks loose.”

“You’re not speaking your mind, though,” you argued.

“Ah, and you know my mind so well, do you?” The annoying thing about Sirius, amongst many other things, was that he knew how to get under your skin. Had perfected the craft after years of verbal combat with you. So his words poked and prodded at your soft underbelly with ease as he brandished his hurt around like a swordsman with a too-heavy sword.

“Maybe not entirely, but when it comes to us, I think I know enough.” He stayed silent after that, hesitant, as if waiting for you to make the first move. “The other day, when we kissed—” and you knew you were getting hotter because something, some feeling, flickered behind his irises “—I said it was a mistake—”

“—I know, love. I was there,” he scowled. “No need to remind a man of his failings.”

“Just— let me finish!” You inhaled, slow, before continuing. “I said it was a mistake when, in fact, I felt the opposite. It’s just—it’s you and I, Sirius, and when it comes to us, I might know, inside, what I mean and feel and intend to show but when it comes to the actual ‘doing’ part of it all, I always seem to mess up. So, when I said it was a mistake, what I really meant was—”

And it was his turn to cut you off with his mouth, only this time it was sweet and yearning and apologetic as opposed to the fire and passion and lust that had guided the two of you the last time you’d found yourself in his hold.

His mouth slid over your own, careful and inquisitive, whilst his palms cradled your face, as if you’d slip out of his grasp if he moved even an inch in the wrong direction.

It was lovely, really.

As much as you wished for him to keep going, to keeping kissing you like he might yearn for you too (though you wouldn’t be saying those three words for a while), you were horribly aware of the fact that Lily, or worse, your brother, might walk in at any moment.

So, Sirius didn’t allow himself to get carried away with you, not yet at least, and instead he pulled away with a content sigh, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as if to memorise it by feel alone.

“Is that our thing then? Kisses in the form of sneak-attacks?” you mused, vibrating and giddy and utterly pleased.

“Could be, if you want?” and it seemed like he was still entranced with your mouth to properly reply in any meaningful manner.

“Sirius,” you pleaded, urging him to look at you, properly. He tore his gaze away from your lips, finally, and the way his face split into a grin had those fucking butterflies returning, tenfold. “Are you okay?”

“I will be once I take you to mine and do that all over again, only, a little less clothed and a lot more horizontal” he promised, the cheek of his you had come to endearing having return after his previous sulking.

“You’re a menace,” you groaned as he buried his smirking face into the crook of your neck, holding you tight to him before his grip relaxed and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you right there.

“I know, and I’m only joking—well, if you want me to be joking, I will be. But I’m fine—I swear it. It just seems surreal, us, like this,” he explained.

“I get that, it is a bit odd, but I’ve realised you need to contextualise those weird, new feelings and not let them control you, at least, not if they’re ‘bad’ or whatever,” you offered clumsily, trying, in your own way, to relay the same advice your Mum had.

He snorted in response, and you smacked his back from where your arms were wrapped around him. “You sound like your Mum.”

“Mm, that is my Mum. Only, she said it better, and more concise, and in that Mum-way that just makes sense.”

“Ah, well that makes a bit more sense.” He pulled back for a moment, not letting you out of the circle of his arms yet. “We should talk about this a little more, shouldn’t we?”

You nodded, sighing as you moved away from him to get a hold of your thoughts once more. “I think, for me at least, I conflated anger with my feelings for you because I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle them, and deep down, I worried you’d reject me, so it seemed easier to argue with you than—”

“--this,” he finished for you, and he must’ve read the agreement on your face because he bobbed his head in response. “It makes sense, really, and it’s about the same for me, only, there was the whole issue of James and, I mean, I’m older—”

“—by a few years,” you maintained, scowling, and he wanted to kiss you for it.

“Yes, love, but a few years means different things depending on how old you are. We’ve never really been in the same phase of life until now, so I don’t think I wanted it—nor would it have been appropriate, really—until a year or two ago. By then, it seemed too late, so I just kept—”

“—bickering.”

“Yeah, bickering. Arguing. Biting back. It was the safer option.” And everything he said made sense, it was all entirely reasonable, but you still mourned the time lost to not being entirely honest with each other.

“But there’s no point worrying over that now, not when we can’t do anything about it,” he reasoned, noting the faraway look in your eyes and centring you back, there, with him.

“We should get back to the party,” you whispered, fearing what would happen when the two of you left the safety on the kitchen, flooded still with gold and a certain stillness that had you aching for this moment to be forever.

“Yeah, love, let’s go back,” he answered, just as quiet, nudging his head toward the door. Just as your hand came up to turn the doorknob, Sirius’ palm came up in front of you, halting your movements. He stood, still, behind you, and close as ever. You could feel every breath he took, and that damn cologne you’d started missing in the bookstore as well. “Don’t worry about us, love, we’ll be fine,” he assured you.

You answered by turning the knob and making your way back towards the garden. Sirius followed from behind, and when you stepped through the backdoor, you realised how little had changed since you’d gone inside, but also just how much had changed, as well.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this <3

[heartfullofleeches]

Rubik Dice

Yandere Entity (Entities?) Blurb

An: In a vent of frustration with a rubix cube - I present this. [Brief mentions of death]

-

Six people to a room.

It's too many.

Between damped sobs and their own; and the feud in their head, they couldn't think let alone say their piece. How did this happen? How could they make such a careless mistake? It was just supposed to be an evening stroll. It had been a week since they'd been out. The longest they'd ever been put away. Being cramped under so long they had to get some fresh air or risk clawing out their throat for a clean breath. It's so cramped in their head, in this room. Six people is far too many to be alone with unless the last person is....

"Nice job, idiot. We're in enough trouble as it is - now what are we going to do?."

It was an accident.

"Don't be so mean! We all have our lapses in judgement sometimes.... Even if they are kidnapping not-so-random strangers off the street."

Didn't you tell me to do it?

"Haha- You really fucked up tonight, didn't you?.. He saw your face. No choice, but to kill him less you never want to be seen in public again? All I'm sayin' is my blades should still be in the bag."

We can't kill any more people. Why are you always like this? Please, can't we just -

"Leave this to a roll of the dice?"

Indecisive on topics ranging from daily meals to torture methods; the trio concluded their shared consciousness to one, unified:

"No."

"Take out that dice and I'm breaking your fingers. Why do we always have to be responsible for your fuck ups?"

"Such a coward. You can crack a brick over someone's skull to shut them up, but you can't stab a knife through their neck to silence them?"

"You know, someone has been reeeeeally quiet since we got back home. We all know what that means."

Ragged breathing stills in the face of its captor. The rambling maniac themselves has quieted to nothing more than a stagnant shell. They both know what's to happen next. There's only one way out of this now. He can beg all he wants, but he'll tell. Even if they believe him the others won't. Neighbors. The police. You. Everything always came back to you. Mistakes, failures, hopes. You'd hate them - all of them - if you knew what took place in this basement. You'd never want to see any of them again.

"Maybe we should let him go... They're pretty hot when they're mad. I'm sure they'd forgive us eventually."

"Quiet."

It's quiet now. How soon the commotion ends when that side of them says their part. Their voice doesn't like nails on a chalkboard. So sweet it makes teeth rot. It isn't authoritative enough to make those who heard Trimble in their wake nor is it meek and pathetic enough for a second listen. It was the amalgam of those voices - the best pairs.

"Now, Blu. You know we can't do things alone that we haven't discussed with everyone else before hand. Would you please let me out so I can take care of our little problem?"

"...ok."

Trembling hands retrieve the fist-sized cube from its pocket; chipped nails slid into the crevice separating the second and third row of squares. Why were they the one that had to solve it? These puzzles were always so hard despite the countless times they've done it - teary eyes aiding little to their cause. It becomes easier once they slide the third white cube into row. Their eyesight and mental slate become clear, cheeks dry and devoid of the faded acne scars that plagued them. They step towards their captive who was busy squirming away from the figure now five inches taller and missing the hunch in their posture that left them wondering how they had managed to drag them here in the beginning. Gaze piercing and laser focus as opposed to cowering from each sniffle. With those pure white eyes it's impossible to tell where they're looking, but the threat of being the target of their glance was petrifying alone. They were blue not even a minute ago. It was like they were a different person entirely - body and soul.

A dice falls to their victim's feet.

"Six.... You were fortune this time."

Another object grabbed from their robes. A single line drawn across their neck - and it's back to five.

"I knew you had that on you...."

"Awww, what the hell - over already? Should've made them beg or at least give us their address."

"May they have a peace rest.... Is what I would say if it were someone else, haha!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

The figure pockets their weapon and stands with a stretch, stepping away from the growing pool of blood. "That was messier than expected. What should we do now?"

"Clean up this mess."

"Check Y/n's page."

"Send them flowers!"

"And this guy's heart in a chocolate box."

"All good ideas. Why don't we do them all?... Besides that last one."

Five people to a room.

As it always should be - until you come home.

[fuxuannie]

❥ . until the end, forevermore

✦. synopsis — stargazing with leon brings a sense of comfort and room for laughter, however oddly enough, it leads to a conversation that you or him needed to hear.

✦. love mail — 💌 ignore the 100th layout change pls i'm very indecisive ;_; eeuuueeuu... i really like soft leon can u tell uwjehejr I REALLY HOPE PEOPLE LIKE THIS i love it sm personally

✦. tags — fluff, comfort-ish, ooc.. possibly, soft leon, re4 remake leon, idk what i was doing with this, g-neutral reader, one tiny suggestive joke doesnt rlly matter

Laying uncomfortably in a patch of grass and staring at the sky wasn't exactly LEON's idea of a fun time, but when he's actually there in the moment - he doesn't realize how calming it really is. It's been a rough couple of days.. weeks, years - life. Something as simple as stargazing, it made him feel at ease.

Of course, you holding his hand next to him and hearing to your heart-warming laughter was an added bonus.

"Look, I don't know how much longer I can pretend I can see the shapes you point out and not think you're crazy." Leon teased, turning his head to you as your eyes were still fixated on the stars. You don't reply, but he doesn't complain, gives him more time to admire you.

Sometimes he feel like he doesn't do it enough, spending his time to look at you, then on the other hand it feels like it's all he ever does. You're the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last person on his mind as he drifts to sleep, he's so inlove with you but never in a way that it hurts, but that it lets him feel at home.

You make him feel like he's home.

"You know you're supposed to be gazing at the stars, right?"

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't realize you've turned to face him, a look of warmth that he always sees in your eyes. "Well I've found myself something prettier."

"Corny."

"For you, always."

You chuckle a little at his one-liner, squeezing his hand as you do. It's always the little things that you do that make his heart race.

You then spoke;

"I had a weird thought." "Oh? In public?" "Shut up."

"This life.. it's really screwed us over."

"Yes, it has."

You move a little closer to lean your head on his shoulder, looking back up at the stars that seemingly shone brighter just for this moment.

"I think in our next we should just become like.. I dunno, cat owners."

Leon smiles.

"Nah.. You sound stupid."

...

"I'd rather have a dog."

You gasp in fake offense, jolting up immediately. "How dare you-" But he easily pulls you back in, landing on his chest as his arms wrap around you and essentially trap you in the most comfortable way ever. You're about to protest, but he adds;

"I promise that in our next life, if your little.. ideas about reincarnation are real, then I'll love you as I did in this life and the lives after that. Because for however long there is a (name) and Leon, there will be (name) and Leon. That's how it works, I don't make the rules.

You blinked a few times in surprise, but eventually nuzzle against his chest. "You stole that one from a book you read?"

"I hate reading."

"Idiot."

"It means it came from my heart you asshole!"

[midnightsnyx]

Hi I had an imagine idea for any hockey player as a boyfriend (I'm indecisive if you can't tell lol) but what about a scenario where reader's watching her boyfriend's hockey game, and while she cheers for him there's a group of girls nearby who hate on her? Like what if everyone knows that the hockey player and reader are dating and there are a few fans that aren't really happy with the reader and a couple of those people happen to be sitting near her at the game?

The rest is up to you, happy writing :P

hi ty for the request❤️ i picked jack hughes i hope you like it!! <3 also sorry it’s kind of angsty and short & definitely not edited cause i’m 99% asleep rn😂

you loved supporting jack at his games, it was one of your favorite things to do. however, you didn’t like the attention you received sometimes especially considering it was almost always bad.

yeah you get it, jack is good looking (too much for his own good sometimes) and he’s a professional hockey player so there are a lot of girls who like him but even though they know he’s taken, they will still throw themselves at him. and they will say awful stuff about you sometimes. anytime either of you post something on instagram, you have to disable the comments.

you’re still as supportive as you can be and that includes attending as many games as you can so you decide to surprise him tonight by showing up at a home game. you’d originally told him you were unable to make it which was true but when your boss let you go home early, you decided to surprise him instead of going home and watching the game on the tv.

it was too late to get a decent seat and you still weren’t quite comfortable enough to go to the wives lounge. the other girls were absolutely wonderful and supportive but you were still warming up to them and didn’t feel like you should be there yet.

the downside to getting a crappy seat though was that there were sometimes people around who weren’t exactly nice. you were wishing you had either gotten a suite or decided to just go to the wives lounge when a group a girls start whispering about you. it’s clear that they want you to hear them and as much as you try to tune them out, it’s hard.

by the end of the game, your self confidence is pretty low and you just want to go home and crawl in bed but jack noticed that you were here so you had to go meet him at the locker room doors. when he comes out, all smiles due to their win, he notices your mood right away.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, wrapping his arms around you. you bury your face in his neck, hoping that he doesn’t notice the tears.

you just shrug, looking at the ground when you pull away.

“i think i’ll just go back to my place tonight.”

you don’t have to look to see the disappointment on his face. you’d promised you would spend the night at his place and the two of you were looking forward to it.

“they’re wrong, you know,” he says and of course he knows what’s wrong.

“i know jack,” you mutter. “it’s just hard to ignore sometimes.”

you don’t give him a chance to reply, turning on your heel and leaving quickly. a warm bath and your bed sounds like heaven right about now.

but you only get as far as your car before a hand gently wraps around your wrist and you know it’s jack. he tugs you into another hug, not letting you escape this time. not that you want to now.

“i won’t say i understand how it feels, baby,” he whispers in your hair. “but i don’t give a shit what any of them say.” there’s a pause and then he pulls away only far enough to be able to look you in the eyes.

“i love you.”

those three little words that weigh so much haven’t been said between the two of you. you always show your love in other ways and you were okay with that but hearing it, hearing him say them out loud, heals something inside you.

“yeah?” you ask quietly and he chuckles softly.

“yeah.” his head tilts to the side slightly. “you know, i was kind of hoping you’d-”

you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“i love you too.”

[cryptid-intraining]

My Jason Todd Headcanons:

After his identity was revealed in Under The Hood, Steph was the first person who he willingly let hug him.

He started to let others hug him but to do this day he hasn't been able to bring himself to let Bruce hug him.

He names his guns. However the names keep changing because he is incredibly indecisive, they're always based on literary characters though (and usually he renames them to his favourite characters in whatever book he's currently reading).

He can out bench all Batfam members except Bruce (and sometimes Dick) in the gym but no one has ever been able to out squat him (we don't call him Thunder Thighs for nothing).

When he was a kid he would always try his best to protect the working girls and boys in Crime Alley from being harassed by the cops. He would antagonize and insult the officers until they tried to detain him then he would run off and force them to chase him, leading them away from the workers and their corners and making himself a more interesting target. This would often result in him being roughed up or sent to spend a night or two in a cell.

The working girls and boys adored him for this and would constantly dote on him and jokingly say they adopted him or that he was their son. They'd often help him out and keep him company when his mum's dealers were over at his apartment or when she was sick. They'd even spot him cash when he was desperately low.

When he returned as Red Hood he realised he could finally put up a fight against the cops trying to start shit and he has made it clear that under his watch, in Crime Alley, no one fucks with the working girls and boys.

He had tattoos before the Pit, just really shitty stick and pokes, but because of the healing properties of the Pit mistaking the ink as a foreign body under his skin it 'healed' them so he lost all his tattoos. He was pissed that he had to start over again. Except for one. He had one super embarrassing tattoo that he will never talk about to anyone.

He has an issue with laughter. It's one of his PTSD triggers, even if it doesn't necessarily sound like Joker he can't help himself from flinching whenever someone catches him off guard and laughs.

He hates the cold. It reminds him of being stuck in the coffin, so during winter he piles all his blankets onto his bed, makes a hot water bottle (or two) and curls into a little ball. If he still can't get warm after that he layers up and goes for sprints around the block.

He harbours a deep, visceral hatred for the Hamilton Musical. I will not explain further.

He listens to brown noise to sleep. This is solely because I do so now he must too.

He creates trauma playlists of music. I don't know how to explain this one but it includes songs like HAHA by Lil Darkie, the entire Sobville album by Arrested Youth, and Family Line by Conan Grey.

When he found out the first Robin's name was Dick he burst out laughing and upon meeting Dick he couldn't look him in the eyes for a week without giggling.

Along with being a literary buff he's also a history nerd. He combines the two interests and just has massive history tomes. Him and Damian first started bonding over their love of history, specifically their interest in Mesopotamia and it's mythology.

He had chronic pain. I know technically the Pit would have healed his wounds fully and properly but fuck that. He has flair ups from old broken bones from the Joker attack, he has itchy and sore scars, and random coughing fits from all damage done to his lungs when he was crawling out of his grave. His memory also isn't what it used to be, again thanks to crowbar to his cranium and all that darn blood loss.

[salti-thelatediagnosedautist]

I am personally 100% for a shitty self diagnosis.

A shitty self diagnosis is usually the predecessor to a fairly accurate self diagnosis.

For me, I didn't think I could possibly have autism because of the stereotypical traits listed (I first started researching in 2013 when most sources were based on children, and not relatable at all to a teenager). So I actually thought I must be bipolar! That was a shitty self diagnosis, but it then later on led to a self diagnosis of autism, which has now become a professional diagnosis of autism.

I honestly hate that there is any dislike to self diagnosis at all... to me it doesn't make sense. Unless you suspect something is "wrong" with you, it's very unlikely you'll just happen to end up in front a psychiatrist or psychologist getting diagnosed. And even if you do it's much less likely that they'll diagnose you with autism unless you have already self diagnosed it.

Lets say someone self diagnoses autism without learning much about it. They just saw a few tiktoks that resonated with them and they went for it.

Here's my thought process.

They are going to continue learning about autism, great!

This means if they don't have autism, they will likely become a lot more empathetic to people with autism. That's awesome!

If they do have autism, that's great too! Another correct self diagnosis, yippee! (This is the more likely outcome BTW! It's fairly uncommon for people to think they are autistic for no reason...)

Or the third outcome is, self diagnosing with autism wasn't correct, but it lead to a correct self diagnosis of ADHD or something else. Great for them!

Here's a second scenario. Someone does a shitty autism self diagnosis. They then see a bunch of posts and comments about how you need to really deeply and responsibly research autism for your self diagnosis to be valid. Or even a bunch of people directly comment that to them.

Then here's my thought process with that scenario.

The person is actually autistic but gets scared out of self diagnosing because they worry they can never research enough. They become indecisive and it takes them much much longer to be able to self diagnose because of fear and gate-keeping.

The person isn't autistic and feels discouraged from doing research towards any self diagnosis. They feel isolated and misunderstood. They get upset that they have been rejected by yet another community.

Now, listen. I know that for us autistic people it can feel like we are being attacked on all sides and that bad self diagnosis is just another way we are being misunderstood. But the thing is, from my POV, professional diagnosis is honestly not much better. At all. Doctors have trouble correctly diagnosing physical conditions, let alone mental ones. Most doctors I've been too couldn't even diagnose a rash. It's honestly sad how useless they can be sometimes.

A self diagnosis is key to finding your correct diagnosis also. Without self diagnosis many people won't have ANY diagnosis ever.

A lot of people with a shitty self diagnosis are also often teens. Lost, confused, misunderstood teenagers. And people who self-diagnose mental conditions are often neurodivergent in one way or another. Whether it be autism, ADHD, depression, we should be accepting them all the same. We are all fighting very similar fights.

Now for my big POV - we can't actually truly determine whether someone has an accurate self diagnosis. We are autistic people, but we can't diagnose other autistics. Pretending that we can is a dangerous game to play. Autism can present extremely differently person-to-person. It's important that we don't forget that.

Basically, I understand that it feel frustrating seeing so many people self diagnosis with autism without much research. But please, even if you disagree with me, at least remember to be KIND.

[axolotlsupremacyowo]

Klapollo: Dissecting a song and talking about it's meaning

Franmaya: Snowball fight

Narumitsu: Edgeworth tries pie for the first time

BESTIE!!!!! HI BESTIE! So, all three of my fave ships, huh...? I can do that! Easy peasie!

Klapollo, 135 words

“Come now, Herr Forehead! You must admit, it’s the pinnacle of songwriting!” Apollo wasn’t sure how they had gotten into this discussion. One moment they were in bed together talking about music, and the next they were discussing song lyrics. Which then led to this ridiculous discussion. “Really, Klavier? “She’s indecisive, she can’t decide” is peak songwriting to you?” Apollo questioned with a brow raised. “Ja, of course! Is it not to you?” “Of course it isn’t! It’s repetitive! He already said she was indecisive, why would he explain what it means-” Apollo stopped as he saw the huge grin on Klavier’s face, shooting him a glare. “Wait, you’re just fucking with me!” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Herr Forehead.” Klavier laughed as Apollo hit him on the head with a pillow.

Franmaya, 240 words

One of the downsides of living in Los Angeles was the fact that it didn’t snow very often. Franziska missed it sometimes, the way snow blanketed the whole world in its pure white sheet, how brisk and cool the winter air was on her skin, the comfort of wearing winter clothes. Her and Maya Fey had decided to visit Franziska’s family in Germany, and Franziska had to admit, it was nice. It was nice getting to see the snow again. She still remembered when she hated the snow, and thought it was foolish. They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Franziska smiled at the sight of it, her aunt’s backyard covered in snow. That was, until she felt a snowball pelted at the back of her head. She turned around to the source of said snowball, smiling when she saw Maya grinning at her. “Gotcha, Franzy!” Franziska smiled, a plan forming in her head. “I really do love you, Maya Fey.” “I love you too Franzy- WOAH!” Maya yelped as a snowball hit her right in the face. Franziska snickered. “NOT FAIR, FRANZY! That’s cheating!” Maya said. “And so is hitting someone distracted with a snowball, Maya Fey.” Franziska replied. “Oh! You’re gonna get it!” The two laughed as they engaged in a fierce snowball fight. And as Franziska pelted a snowball at Maya’s face again, laughing when she pouted, Franziska knew that she was in love.

Narumitsu, 290 words

Phoenix could bake. That still surprised Miles to this day, even when Phoenix had baked cookies and brownies for him. Sure, Phoenix was a pretty good cook, but baking was different. Baking required an intense and meticulous precision, and that bluffer of a man was the opposite of precise. And yet, Phoenix could bake. There was no denying that. And he was a pretty darn good baker, too. Phoenix was just perfecting his recipe for strawberry pie, and he had asked Miles to taste test it for him. Miles was more than willing to, he was his boyfriend after all, and he always liked to see what Phoenix had in store for him. Besides, Miles had never tried strawberry pie, and he thought it’d be nice to finally try it. After hours of work, Phoenix was finally able to show Miles the pie that he had just baked. He carried it over to Miles, setting it down the table. Just by the way it looked it was already delicious, though looks really weren’t everything. “Here it is! And if it’s trash, please be honest with me. I wanna know what I’m doing wrong.” Phoenix said. “Of course, Wright.” Miles replied. Miles took a bite out of the pie, and his eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. It was incredible. The crust was perfectly soft and flakey, but not overpowering the sweet tart of the strawberry. Even if he’d never tried strawberry pie before, he knew this was the best pie in the world. Phoenix was staring at him, with wide eyes and flour on his clothes, face, and hair. “How is it…?” “It’s incredible.” Miles said with a smile. Phoenix grinned, Miles fell in love with that grin.

[sillyromance]

Can you make comfort vore? From Optimus?

Hello, dear evelyntyecrqzy!

Sure! Here you go!

P.S: there is angst and one heavy word in this work. Also I've written it from the first person's perspective... I really hope you don't mind it.

Have a good day and take care!

***

- How do you feel, little one?

It was late evening; almost all the lights were gone, the only bright area was Ratchet’s lab: the old medic was staring at the big green screen, typing aggressively on the panel and mumbling something inaudible. He was too busy to pay attention to anything else. The rest of the team left to their quarters after they had brought the kids home. No body had shown any signs of life since then.

I was lying on the couch, curled up in a tight ball. My head felt heavy and hurt; I felt cold and lonely. It was hard to hold back sobbing, but I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention - nobody cared anyways. Why would they? Were my problems that important?

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears running down my cheeks violently as my shoulders started shuddering...

And then I heard his deep, gentle voice.

"How do you feel, little one?" - I turned my red face to the huge mech behind me. Optimus Prime, my guardian. Through the cacophony of my thoughts I hadn't heard him coming. His blue optics far above glowed with concern.

I hurried to wipe the tear tracks from my face and stand up, mumbling something like: "Sorry" or "It's fine, don't bother yourself..." But as far as I did this, his large servo wrapped around me and very soon I found myself sitting on his plain rough palm, being swirled with his kind, sad gaze. I felt nothing but guilt, though the only reason for it was my depressing mood. I couldn't look straight at him, turning away over and over, rubbing my hot cheeks in attempt to get rid of the tears. I hated myself for the mess I had become – I waited for him to throw me away as far as he would get a good look at my ugliness. However, Optimus didn't seem disgusted with me at all.

- Did someone offend you? - The mech asked again with the same sincere tenderness in his tone.

I shook my head negatively.

- Is it something in your body?

I closed my face with both hands and shook the head even more violently, crooking.

- No...

- And what’s about your soul?..

I sniffed silently; choking sensation dug its claws into my throat as it let out a pathetic "Mm-gm..." and I nodded. Everything in me just fell somewhere down; I felt my poor heart beating hysterically in the stomach. There was a crazy mix of panicking fear and complete indifference. I was trembling, wishing to be left alone. But even more, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted someone to embrace me and whisper soothing words, to say that it was going to be OK, to stroke my hair as if I was just a kid. But wasn't it too much to ask? I didn't dare to believe Optimus would bother himself to spend time with such a puny, pathetic creature.

After this cut through my head, I couldn't keep myself from crying anymore – I literally burst out.

- Hey, look at me, Y/N.

Hesitantly, I obliged. I was ready to see disappointment or distaste, but instead...

- There is nothing to be embarrassed with. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he really... worry about me? Of course, as my guardian, he should have, regardless... Wasn't I dreaming?

- W-what d-do you m-mean? – I replied indecisively.

- I thought, perhaps you could share your pain with someone. Sometimes it helps. - A small, understanding smile appeared on his faceplate. - I'm sorry... It hurts my spark to see such precious little thing crying.

I lost my ability to speak for some seconds.

- Does it r-really? W-why?

Prime's eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

- Because you matter. You're my friend, Y/N. Friends help each other, don't they?

His gravely voice had already had its way with me. My shudders calmed down and though my eyes were still wet, I couldn't help but smiled back at him.

- Thank you... for this... But I don't want to talk right now...

- It's absolutely fine...

- ... I'm very, very tired, though. - At the moment I said that, my spine weakened and I collapsed at the flat, warm surface of Optimus' hand.

Something childish, basic, something from the abyss of my wild, subconscious core suddenly arose inside me and escaped my chest with barely audible plead.

- Please... Don't leave me here...

A quiet sigh rambled beside me; my entire figure was washed with warm air of his exhale.

- Don't worry, Y/N. I won't.

His digits closed over my tiny form. I wasn't able to see a thing anymore, but I could say for sure that we moved away from the place.

Quite soon the sounds of Ratchet's work faded away. Optimus opened one of the many electric doors and walked into a somewhat room - I heard a soft "whoosh" as the panel shifted back to its place. My guardian set me free on his berth, and only then I understood that we were in his private room. Sitting down beside me, he spoke even gentler than before:

- You are out of energy. And so do I. But still, I don't want you to stay alone...

Do you trust me?

I nod, already predicting where he was heading to. Cybotronian friends committed this small ritual with humans regularly; many were fond of it. However, I had never tried it with him. I couldn't claim that I was completely inexperienced too, but those previous times were emergencies which I couldn't truly like – they were harsh and distasteful like a rotten fruit. Now... It promised to be much more intimate. And it depended only on my wish.

I glanced at him through my eyelashes - I was too sleepy to keep the eyes wide open - and murmured:

- I do.

Optimus nodded. I was lifted up again - straight to his mouth.

Slowly, controlling every his movement, my guardian guided me inside his maw and laid my feet on his squishy glossa - there was a faint blue light twinkling at the back of his depthless throat illuminating a humid, warm chamber. Thanks to him I didn't even touch the sharp dents – their deadly blades loomed right above me, but stayed harmless, serving simply a reminder of what power Optimus actually had over me. The glossa curled around my legs as soft, thick blanket, then released them and I was pushed further to the glowing entrance of the esophagus.

I stared down, processing what was about to happen. I appreciated the leisure pace Optimus chose with me; his gentle licks and steady, rhythmical ventilating brought me nothing but comfort and peace. I sensed my toes in his pharynx and waited for inevitable with dull thrill - to be unceremoniously drugged into misty, humid confines of the muscles’ trap, to be deafed and choked. That what I was usually met with before, every time I was gulped down. However, when Optimus swallowed, his artificial, metal flesh contracted just slightly, pulling me so carefully inside that I almost missed the moment. It was like... A hug. The next swallow was just a little bit stronger - I gasped as he let his hand go off me and my tiny being got engulfed into his soft throat. It felt better than anything I knew before. Surrounded by the pulsing alien flesh, I finally felt protected and loved – the state I sought for so desperately all that fuckin’ day.

For some time he just held me there, his head titled back. I didn't make a move, trying to avoid hurting him. Living heat of his soaked into my bones and made me so drowsy that I thought I would fall asleep. However, at that moment the muscles came to action and lovingly tugged me deeper. The light grew brighter, though it didn't bother me at all; I was easily slipping in a long wiry tube constructed from the smaller ones, thinner and more solid, poured with viscous, bubbling energon – I was watching little sparks floating in there as I was passing by and a weak flame of forgotten happiness flickered in my soul once more.

Finally, I arrived at his fueltank. Its walls greeted me with a friendly squeeze, forcing me to curl into fetal position. I didn't cry anymore; all my worries and demons disappeared long ago, at the second I heard: "How do you feel, little one?"

God! I was so horribly wrong. I thought no one needed me, that I was lost, abandoned... And still, there was someone who couldn't bare me cry.

I felt Optimus' servo laying down on the lump I must have made on his waist, caressing me. I rubbed my head against the spot where I could recognize the pressure and smiled.

I did matter.

[thatonebirdwrites]

Korrasami is Canon

I literally do not understand when people trashtalk or write really cruel things about Korrasami shipping, especially when they make claims that aren't supported by the show itself.

I honestly wonder sometimes if folks who hate on Korrasami don't understand what a healthy relationship can look like? (Or is there unconscious bias influencing their hatred of it?)

Because Korrasami is a healthy relationship; it's relationship goals honestly. This doesn't make it a boring relationship either, as healthy relationships can have their joys, sorrows, pain, struggles, healing moments, etc. The important aspects that keep the relationship healthy is how the two respond to those situations together. To explain, I'll cover why Makorra is NOT healthy.

Majority of Makorra shippers' arguments cherry-pick random scenes that are incredibly brief with scant evidence of Makorra being "good" for Mako and Korra (it isn't). (P.S. Makorra shippers please stop using homophobic language and slurs when you talk about Korrasami shipping, it's a really bad look, okay? Thanks.)

All arguments ignore the huge amount of evidence that the Makorra relationship was severely harming both Mako and Korra. As well as the evidence that both are happier just being friends.

Mako and Korra fight all the time in screaming matches to the point they break things around one another. This is really not healthy.

They can't get through a conversation without one of them being furious at the other.

Mako fails to support Korra's decisions, critiques her decisions,and, does not give his thoughts when asked but instead parrots other people which isn't what Korra had asked at all.

Mako is indecisive about his feelings to the point of hurting both Asami and Korra.

Mako is too protective of Korra and does not respect her independence or her abilities.

Mako fails to support her emotionally due to often not listening to the core of her words, yet he expects her to support him emotionally regardless and is angry when she doesn't.

Mako's personality when he's with Korra becomes: bland dude with no thoughts of his own or screaming fury of a person. He's actually a much better person and kinder overall when he's NOT in a relationship with Korra.

Mako betrays Korra's trust TWICE.

Mako lies to Korra.

When Mako and Korra are just friends, they relate to one another better and don't scream as much at each other. Mako is also more respectful of Korra when they are just friends and NOT together.

All arguments ignore the plenty of evidence that Asami and Korra flirted with one another since Book 1. They tend to forget the brothers entirely in scenes with one another. Book 3 is literally the Asami-and-Korra-flirt-arc, like all they do is flirt in that book. Book 4 had an arc that contrasts how well Korra and Asami work together, and how horrifically critical of them Mako is during that arc.

All arguments ignore the buildup of Korrasami: Asami literally built Korra a whole dang park, designed and gifted her an airship, supports Korra no matter what, calls Korra amazing constantly, always follows through with helping Korra, painted her car blue in honor of Korra, and spends most of her time flirting and pinning after Korra since BOOK 1. Even at the end of Book 2, the first name she says when asking if the Krew is okay is Korra, and then she adds the others as an afterthought. This is all pretty blatant stuff that Asami does, and Korra responds in turn with her own flirting and pinning. Korra literally only writes Asami while she's gone for three years and admits that she feels like Asami is the only one who understands her. She even blushes for Asami in Book 4. Why does Korrasami work so well?

Korra and Asami have mutual respect for their abilities, strengths, weaknesses, and independence.

They support each other no matter what.

Asami is literally the first person to say yes to whatever Korra needs help on pretty much constantly, and she always follows through.

They talk through their arguments, and have never had a screaming match. In fact, the one time they do argue, Korra deescalates, and they talk it out and/or come to an acceptance relatively quick.

They are honest about their feelings with one another.

Asami is pretty much the only one that consistently asks Korra how she is, sits and listens to her talk through her troubles, and offers emotional support. (Mako fails to do so.)

Asami never, ever doubts Korra. (Mako does many a time.)

Asami never lies to Korra. (Mako does many a time.)

Asami reminds Korra she's awesome and amazing since Book 1 (even after she finds out Korra liked Mako too).

Asami never blames Korra for her failed relationship with Mako, instead she puts the responsibility on Mako who had lied to both of them and hurt them both with his indecision. Asami is never mad at Korra about this either, and her anger is only at Mako.

They are so seamless in their fighting styles that they can predict the other's moves, and so act in wonderful synchronicity. (Mako fails to ever do this with either of them and instead critiques them endlessly).

Asami and Korra never critique one another's actions. Instead, they talk through what happened and support each other's decisions. Asami ALWAYS supports Korra, and always sides with Korra, and is able to talk through hard issues with Korra. She shares her thoughts with Korra, and Korra respects her for that. (Mako fails to support Korra's decisions, often trying to stay in this weird neutral area, and gets angry that Korra doesn't like that he won't actually share what he thinks nor show support for her.)

Asami never betrayed Korra. (Mako does in Book 2).

Asami and Korra respect one another's boundaries.

Korra shares that she feels that Asami is the only one that really 'gets her' and understands her, and Asami feels the same about Korra.

I could go on and on.

Honestly.

Anyway, thanks for reading.

P.S. if Makorra shipper tries to shit on my post with unfounded vitriol and bad faith arguments, be advised that I don't have the energy or time for it. Blocks are very useful tools. Have a great day!

[zmickmilk]

I love finding a fellow Debbie appreciator in the shameless fandom because I absolutely hate the unending crap she gets for simply growing up from a traumatised child into an adult who has never been given the space or support to deal with her issues.

Anyways I was wondering what your thoughts were on the Gallagher sibling dynamics? Because my unpopular opinion for years has always been that Ian (and Debbie to an extent) was made in Fiona’s image with dash of forgotten middle child syndrome. He was her first baby and took on a lot of her good and bad characteristics except he has a slightly higher level of emotional intelligence than her and the rest of his siblings. My Roman Empire is wondering what the Fiona-Lip-Ian dynamic was in their early days. That and baby Mickey and Mandy Milkovich

Thanks for asking :pp

sorry this took so long to answer I had like a really hard time knowing what to talk about so this is VERY unorganised hope I answered u still!! Also super long anyway

One of my favourite things about the Gallaghers is how they are all a little bit like fiona. Ian and Debbie the most but in the others too. Debbie is extremely caring. She would do anything for the people she loves, especially franny. She 100% got this from fiona. She grew up watching fiona throw her needs aside for her siblings' time and time again, and I really think she took this to heart. Both fiona and Debbie are willing to do anything for family. They also share this kinda "mean" shell. What I mean by that is that they both can come across as mean when they never really want to do anyone harm. Where as fiona was pushed into the motherly role, debbie wanted to be a mother. To me, this makes her selfishness even more prominent? I'm not sure if that's the right word. Debbie doesn't need to desperately seek recognition for all her hard work in the Fiona has had to.

Ian is determined and an incredibly hard worker. His resilience is something he learned from fiona. Ian is old enough to have watched fiona have to adapt to caring for even more children while being young enough that he wasn't always expected to help. He watched fiona work job after job, sometimes more than one at a time. In the same way Ian found his job with being an EMT, I can see fiona having the same kinda thing she just never found her job, yk? Fiona and Ian are good at taking charge, adapting. Not only this, but they both great at talking to people, VERY charming.

Lip is stubborn. He's self-destructive. Those are some of the more unfortunate traits to get from fiona, but he's also a great problem solver and a natural talent. I don't think this is something he really got from her entirely, but they are obviously similarities. Fiona and Lip are the closest in age so often worked together, they solved problems together. It's a trait they picked up as a team because fiona is older, so I'm assuming it's something that came to her quicker. Fiona was a natural at track. She was amazing working towards these record-breaking goals. Lip is a natural genius (sadly not physically gifted like fiona Poor Guy is losing every fight). They didn't reach their potential, both dropping out. I do think lip actually got his stubbornness from fiona, tho. Lip and fiona share a lot of similarities because they are so close in age.

Carl is very childish and playful. He struggled with knowing what he wanted, like he went through so many phases. He has the same bright smile as fiona but also her indecisiveness. Fiona goes through a few phases, mainly hopping career paths. These are kinda like Carl's many phases. Carl is the 2nd youngest and is the first one I think who really did see fiona as a mum sometimes. I can see Carl always mistakenly calling fiona Mum as a kid. He's outgrown that. I know a lot of people wanna be like, "Carl is the only one who appreciated fiona." I don't think that's true. I think he just appreciates her in a more motherly way(while obviously still knowing fiona is his sister, please don't think in saying Carl things she is his mum or something) Carl disrespects fionas just as much as the others but he also shoes his affection more clearly. Anyway, a bight smiles and phases are what Carl got from fiona.

We don't really get to see Liam because he's so young when the show ends. We do get to see Liam as a leader/manager. Fiona was a great manager for the majority of the time(she had her bad moments). Leadership is something Liam got from fiona. I definitely think Liam is gonna be the most different from his siblings, tho because he isn't growing up with fiona looking after him + no Monica, no Frank. I wish fiona had taken Liam with her because they are such a cute duo but yk.

Talking about fiona/lip and Ian as kids now

I think they all would have been very close as kids. First of course because they are all closest to age. They were discovering things for the first time together.

I think a lot of the reason ian and Lip dont appreciate( IK THE DO I JUST DO NOT THE RIGHT WORD) fiona as much is because they are closer in age the the other 3. They don't value all the help fiona gave them because they were also helping her. They saw all her first mistakes and were the ones to help her learn. They see her less as a guardian/ parental figure and more of the big sister she is. Idk if I'm getting mh going across rn so imma move on.

Lip has always been very smart so j think fiona and Lip were a really strong team as kids. Fiona had the advantage that she was older, a people person and Lip was sort of the brains. Fiona, in her own respect, is smart too.

Ian was the baby for a while. He was the one Lip and fiona were working to protect, and I think he got typical little brother treatment. Brother bullying from Lip and smothering love and teasing from fiona. Where as Lip was a real team with fiona a lot of the time Ian was just learning from them. I think this is why he's more emotionally intelligent than them both while having some of their better traits. When Debbie is born, he stops being the baby and starts to get pushed into the independent forgotten middle child role we see him as.

Lip and fiona are a partnership, but lip and Ian are best friends. They all love each other, but lip and Ian are just closer. This pushes fiona away and makes her cling more to the caretaker role. Ian and Lip are closer in age they go to school together, share a room. Fiona is sometimes left out from actual childish sibling bonding. I think she would have been ecstatic when Debbie is born because of this. The boys stick together and now she has a sister to stick with too.

Some random head cannons I have of them as kids

Ian and goes through a coping phase and is always mimicking fi and lip.

Fiona is always using cheesy and sweet nicknames for Ian, like sweet face bit it gets less when Debbie is born. The pet names mean a surprising amount to ian

Lip was always arguing that he should take care of the money but fi doesn't let him.

They come up with the squirrel fund after a school project/something one of them learns in school but it gets more serious when Debbie is born.

Lip gets fiona a dvd player for her 12 birthday and ir sparks her love for movie nights.

A little about the milkovichs now.

Mickey and mandy were also close as kids because of the only Yr age difference, but they drifted. Mickey will always try to look after mandy and protect her, but they grow up, and mandy realises mickey can't always save her. Mickey isn't super strong.

Mickey has to start hiding who is his and that puts a strain on their relationship. Mickey is just another gross boy now instead of her super strong kind brother.

Baby mandy and mickey were always together , they have 1000 inside jokes ans I see them as the kind of siblings who tell people their twins and have their own language. It's hard for them to make other friends but they have eachother.

Mandy will sneak into mickeys room when she's scared, and that's one of the only things that last till she's a teen. She still does it during s1. Mickey never sleeps with his door locked so mandy can get in even tho he really wants to. Mandy locked the door behind her and sits on the edge of mickeys bed. Sometimes, she waits for him to wake up, but most of the time, she pushes his leg till he wakes up and lets her climb in beside him. She will hide in his arms, and he holds her till she falls back to sleep. Then, never talk about it. As they get older, mandy stops waking mickey up. She steals a blanket and crashes on the sofa. Mickey keeps it in his room till he's forced to room with svet.

They donr talk about their feelings but they understand eachoth34 the most out of the other siblings. I like to imagine them getting close again after the show

[thebibliosphere]

Do you have any thoughts about the 27 chapter method of writing or are there other ones you might recommend more? I’m extremely disorganized and indecisive when writing which is frustrating because I never actually end up making progress. An existing outline method to at least get all of my thoughts down and decide where the story will go (instead of 27 possibilities and nothing concrete) would be extremely helpful but I don’t want a very obvious cookie cutter type story if that makes sense

The 27-chapter method works well for some people, but I'm not a huge fan. It fucks with my ADHD too much because if I map something out and define it as having 27 chapters, then it's got to have 27 chapters, no more, no less. If I realize during the writing process that the plan isn't going to be executed the way I envisioned it, so help me, god, my brain will derail this entire thought train, and there will be no survivors.

It was a problem I frequently ran into when redrafting the first Hunger Pangs book, and my brain melted trying to assign chapters to things. I told my editors at one point, "I can't do this. Can you find where the chapter breaks should go?" and they very graciously took my walls of text and figured out where the chapter breaks should go because it's just not something my brain is good at doing. In fact, it was preventing me from actually writing.

(I suspect that's why I enjoyed the earlier Pratchett books so much. No chapters = no breaking my focus.)

It sounds to me like you're a natural pantser, not a plotter, but you're also (like me) the type of person who needs a liittttle bit of structure to help you keep flying by the seat of your pants or the momentum drops off, and you get bogged down in the wrong details.

The way I do this is to basically sit myself down and figure out the A to Z of the story, write down a list of things I Absolutely Want to Have Happen that I set into stone, and then kind of start listing things off like bullet points. Like this:

So top of my page is the starting goal, what do I want to have happen? I want my Blorbo to go on an adventure. Why? To... defeat the Evil Blorbo!

That is basically as simplistic as you can get. Some people don't need to get that simple, but sometimes setting it down on paper really helps, especially when you're prone to getting stuck in other details that don't progress the plot.

Next, I list out the core things I want to happen that are set in stone. So things like: -Blorbo's parent dies. -Blorbo meets the ragtag band of adventurers who teach them to survive. -Blorbo gets a sword that is integral to world-building. -Blorbo gets a scar as a sign of both the physical and psychological changes that have affected them. -Evil Blorbo gets their ass kicked.

Those things are set in stone like milestone markers and I will usually try to make them hit certain narrative beats for whatever genre I'm in, though not always. Sometimes a cool sword is just a cool sword.

Next, I move on to figuring out how I get to those points.

This is when I start writing the plot out as a laundry list:

PART ONE

Blorbo wakes up on the farm one day. It is a [descriptor] day. How does Blorbo feel about this?

Blorbo and their dad have a meaningful and deep conversation that will make the reader instantly hate you for killing him off in the next ten pages.

Blorbo meets up with their friends. Character building and perhaps some world-building ensues.

An EVENT of some sort happens, and CHAOS ensues.

PARENTAL FIGURE eats shit and dies.

Blorbo is thrust out into the world.

Blorbo on the road: shit is terrifying, and they really wish this adventure was happening to someone else.

And so on, so forth.

I make a point not to number any of these individual parts, as it helps me to move them around if I need to without feeling like I'm breaking up some set-in-stone order. If you want to try and break your list up into Parts to follow conventional story arcs, you can do that too.

But you can also leave that until the end if you like. As I said, I split my stuff up into chapters and parts during the editing phase.

There's no one right way to do this.

I also try to keep the list vague, as if I personally go into too much detail during the plotting stage, I lose interest in actually exploring the narrative details while writing. Because fuck me I guess.

Don't worry if the above is too vague for you. Nothing is stopping you from going back to those bullet points and expanding on them later if that works better for your creative needs.

The main goal right now is just getting from A to Z and listing out the steps so that you have a roadmap to find your way before you get distracted. It really is just sometimes helpful to say "Character does X" so you can move on and keep plotting until you have the vaguest of outlines which you can then expand on further if you want to.

After I've bullet-pointed my way from start to finish, I'll maybe go back and identify some areas in the story where I should be hitting certain genre beats, but otherwise, I'll just start writing and see what fits where.

Some people are likely screaming at how simplistic and undetailed that is, but again, everyone's creative process is different, and it's really just about playing around until you find that one that works for you.

I've tried just about every "how to write" guide out there, and in the end what works for me is a bastardized amalgamation of all of them.

I can't be a true panster, but nor can I be a detailed plotter.

I absolutely cannot think of things in strict chapter outlines or I will get overwhelmed. But breaking them up into parts is fine.

I also have to remind myself that sometimes when you are writing, a better solution will present itself and this does not mean the whole project needs to change/you need to start over.

The destination is still the same, and you will likely still hit many of the same points along the way. It's just now you might be taking a detour, and thankfully, you don't have to redraw the whole map. You can just follow the signs marked "diversion," which thankfully, you can also control because all of this is within you control.

Even when it doesn't feel like it.

I hope some of that is helpful. I'm still trying to work out how to explain how I do things in a clear manner. So I apologize if this isn't helpful 😅

[ijustreallylovethem]

the real struggle is choosing which last name to give wyatt when he’s born.

OH YEAH totally forgot about that...so how does that whole conversation go?

so obviously they go with zegras right? i feel like they don’t even think about it until they’re trying to come up with baby names. they both have a few that they’ve tossed around but sadie brings it up one day and says she wants to try and pick one and use it for a bit to make sure she doesn’t hate it after a few weeks.

“what about… jackson? jackson zegras.”

“two things.” sadie holds up to fingers. “one, my brothers head would grow so big he wouldn’t be able to stand if we named our kid that.”

“oh shit, you’re right,” trevor mumbled, realizing how close the name was to his friend and her brothers name.

“two, what makes you think we’re using your last name?” she’s mostly joking, just trying to tease him, but his eyes go wide. he hadn’t even thought of the fact that they had different last names.

“do you want him to have yours?” sadie hadn’t really thought about it either. of course, the thought had crossed her mind. back when she first found out she was pregnant, she thought about giving the baby her last name just in case. but then she called trevor and he told her he was in this and since then, she’d been back and forth on the topic.

“i think… there are enough hughes boys in the nhl record books.” trevor smiled widely, ready to tease her now.

“oh, he’s playing hockey, huh?”

“don’t act like you weren’t skate shopping yesterday, i saw your computer screen!”

“hey! don’t be snooping over my shoulder! what if i was buying something for you? now you’ve ruined the surprise!” she smiled, leaning her side into the back of the couch and just looking at him for a moment while she thought.

“i really don’t care either way,” she finally said. “i’m sure there will be plenty of hughes babies running around one day. if we want to go with zegras it’s not a big deal.”

“what if we hyphenate it?”

“you wanna subject our kid to that?”

“it’s not like either of our names are too long. i just don’t want you to feel like you can’t give him your name because it’s like… customary to give him mine.”

“trevor-“

“and hey, if we get married someday, we can change it.” he wiggles his eyebrows at her and she pushes him lightly.

“i’m not marrying you just because i’m having your kid, idiot.” he smiles at her and she rolls her eyes playfully.

“so, hyphenated?” she sighs, still unsure.

“why don’t we come up with first and middle names that we like? maybe some will sound better with a certain last name and we can decide that way.”

“you sure?” her shoulders sag.

“i don’t know. there’s too many options and i’m indecisive.”

“you don’t have to tell me that.” she sways at his shoulder and he laughs. “what? other than your cravings, you never know what you want. eve your cravings sometimes are multiple things.”

“can we just discuss names?” he reaches out and gently starts to massage her calfs, trying to calm her down a bit before she got too worked up at his teasing.

“okay. no jackson… how about braden?”

[the1975attheirverybest]

what do you think matty would do for a girlfriend who is slammed busy at work, and couldn’t be with him while he’s out on tour

*cracks knuckles* *takes several deep breaths* ahhhh. I have been preparing for the universe to send me this question…bless you, anon.

I think, based on Roadkill and If You’re Too Shy, that being apart from his girlfriend, is one of only a handful of things that Matty hates about his job. Like, it really weighs on him. The days leading up to leaving for tour, he gets really clingy and extra soft with her. And, he’ll randomly be kissing her or cuddling with her and say shit like “gonna miss your hair. Smells so good.” And some sappy shit like that. He’ll insist she drive him to the airport, and if she absolutely can’t, cuz like, it’s a weekday during work hours or something, he’ll go to work with her and hang out until the absolute last second. He’ll have the car come pick him up from there instead of home.

The first few days on tour are the hardest. Especially if he’d been on break for a while. Like, you know how between the UK tour and now, they had like 6 weeks off? Like not just a week or a few days. He’d actually kinda gotten used to being with her all the time, and waking up every morning to her alarm, watching her get dressed and ready for work. Making coffee and chatting about their days, etc. so, when he first leaves, he’s inconsolable. Not only is it disorienting to have to go from that stability and domesticity of everyday life to, like, every day you’re in a different hotel room, in a different city/ country. But she’s his person! And he doesn’t have her anymore! I imagine he would text her a lotttt. Sometimes even forgetting the time differences and stuff. He’ll be like “I got this lunch and it was shit” and it’s like 3 am where she is. And he’ll watch his phone and wonder why she’s not answering. Then he’ll remember she’s asleep. Or she’s at a meeting at work because it’s like 10 am back home and it’s a fucking Monday and she’s at her job. So he’ll get sad.

He DEF FaceTimes her from backstage. Like a lot. I imagine it looks a little something like this. With the guys popping in and out of frame and saying hi and messing about. And just when he thinks the worst part of it is over, and he’s kind of gotten into the rhythm of tour and doesn’t feel too bad anymore. On a random day, like, 8 weeks into traveling the world, he’ll start to miss her so much and lose his shit. Texting and trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime, find Wi-Fi, make sure the time zones align, and everything starts to piss him off. He just wants her. He misses being able to see her. Be in the same room together. Experience things in real time and not have to send her a video of George saying something funny because she’s right there with him and can erupt into laughter right when it happens. He misses being able to cuddle her in his sleep. Misses how annoying cold she always gets at night. Misses her indecisiveness about food and where she wants to go for dinner. So he gets really in his own head and starts to get short with her. With these vague texts and passive aggressive replies. And she doesn’t know why. And he’s getting really mad that he can’t be there for her and support her while she’s having a tough week at work, or like, bring her lunch at work because she’s been killing herself on deadline or something. So he’s in a really bad mood for days on end. They end up fighting on the phone. The connection is shitty and he can’t hear her anyway. And he’s sick of his most intimate moments being mediated through a device. and he’s suddenly finding phone sex to be perverse and gross and sick and exploitative. And every time she makes an effort to do like a FaceTime dinner date or something, he just says no.

Then he feels like a complete asshole because he knows they’re both just doing their absolute best in a difficult situation. So he needs to make it up to her. He’ll start randomly delivering coffee to her in the morning. Like, you know how Uber Eats has a thing where certain restaurants will allow you to schedule a delivery to arrive at a certain time? He’ll think “if I can’t wake her up with coffee that I’ve made, maybe I can send her some.” So, when he knows she had a long night at work the day before, he’ll deliver some breakfast to her with a little text that says something like “breakfast in bed ❤️❤️❤️” and she sends him a photo of her actually eating it in bed. Grateful that she didn’t have to get up and make stuff for herself after the night she’s had. And on a random Wednesday afternoon, he’ll just send flowers to her job. For no reason whatsoever. Just wanted to make her smile. He’ll ask her to send him an outfit check every day cuz he misses the way she would twirl around and how him what she’s wearing everyday. He’ll send her those silly little mirror selfies with his leg up on the bathroom counter. You know, the ones he takes for Instagram sometimes (I fucking love those). And, of course, memes. Memes are Matty’s love language. He’ll be at an afterparty, drunk, scrolling online and sending her shit. It’s like noon her time. She’s with her co-workers. Or at some official meeting, and her phone is blowing up with Matty memes. And she has to bite her lips to keep from laughing.

It’s hard on both of them, and they try to keep communicating. He calls her and falls asleep on the phone sometimes cuz he “just needed to hear her voice.” Or “it doesn’t feel the same without you here.” But it’s hell. And he can’t wait to get home to her as soon as he possibly can.

[valenteal]

Ok Imma be blunt about this because I need to vent. I am SICK of the majority of the bsd fandom’s views on Dazai. And Mori and Akutagawa but mostly Dazai.

Look. Dazai feels no remorse. He doesn’t hate who he was in the port mafia. He became a ‘good person’ for selfish reasons. Because being on the side that fights for good, being around people who are actually kind and selfless and caring is more pleasant. He switched sides, but he didn’t change himself. He fights for other people but he uses all the same tactics. He treats the people on his side well so he can stay there, he hides his more morally dubious schemes so they don’t treat him differently. The way he treats Akutagawa is proof. He doesn’t bother treating him better because he doesn’t want Akutagawa to like him or be his friend, besides Akutagawa is on the other side. He’s a bad guy. Dazai isn’t supposed to be nice to him anyway, that’s how he sees it. Akutagawa is an enemy so it’s okay if Dazai uses and manipulates him.

Dazai is supremely fucked up and he can be very toxic to those around him if he isn’t putting in a lot of effort not to be. But if he does put in the effort, if he does let himself care about someone he will do anything for them. He cares about his loved ones, and if he manipulates them it’s with their happiness and continued survival in mind. He will save them at the cost of himself, suffer immense pain even though he hates pain. He will hurt them sometimes with his self destructive behavior but he does his best to desensitize them to it by being as obvious as he can so it isn’t a shock.

Dazai’s relationship with Chuuya is at an interesting in-between point, because he cares about Chuuya A LOT, but he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t let himself. He pushes Chuuya away and runs after him indecisively. It’s incredibly toxic for both of them and they both contribute to that toxicity. Chuuya lets Dazai do it, he doesn’t stop him, just goes along with it, probably because Dazai is one of the people he’s known the longest and probably one of the only people he really trusts. But it hurts them both, they get into ugly fights and hurt one another, and they know all each other’s weak spots so they can hit where it hurts. And then sometimes for a moment their push and pull will reach equilibrium for a moment and it will be bliss, but then one of them will push again and the other will pull back and the whole thing starts over again. So Dazai will do pretty much anything for Chuuya because as much as he doesn’t want to he loves him. But because he doesn’t want to he won’t stop his toxic behavior towards Chuuya.

[soupmadeoflilys]

Sirius Black x Pureblood! Reader; Run away with me.

So I was thinking this could take place after Sirius and reader pass the summer in James house. Also mentioning that the reader has younger sibling and she is not in Gryffindor.

Y/n walked fast trough the high weeds that grew from the ground and pretended not to hear the thumping footsteps and callings from Sirius black behind her.

“Dove? Where are you going?”-He asked in a playful tone.

“She turned back to face him, a hand reaching to cup her cheek as she stared up at him. In her whole 17 years of life, she had never hated herself so much. Hated how she was so God dammed scared.

“Home.” _ that one word turned Sirius expression upside down, she saw the same eyes she had been gazing at so lovingly widen in terror.

“What do you mean home...?”

They exchanged glances for a little while. They both knew perfectly what it meant, it just that Sirius really didn’t want to believe it. So, they stood in the darkness of the field looking at each other as the rain pelted down hard on their faces.

 She looked away from his face as she couldn’t handle to see the hurt, she was causing; while her eyes clouded with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered into the hand that cupped her face.

Sirius shook his head, begging her to go with him, to run away, to leave this horrible place in space in time and be finally free. But she stayed in place, this time getting ready to leave and Sirius felt a dull ache growing in his heart. But she turned away to run so he caught her wrist in his hand.

“I need to go Sirius. Please let me, don’t make this harder; please.” He kept the same fiercely stare in his blue eyes as he held her wrist tighter, bringing it to his lips.

“No, you don’t Y/n... Y/n please, come with me. Don’t leave me! Was that kiss not enough for you to understand that I; I need you, I can only breath because of you and only will breathe for you.” She stared back at him, clenching her eyebrows in indecisiveness. Oh, how she loathed his ability to make her want to make depraved decisions.

“With your departing I’ll be only half a man, and I am unable to pretend I’m not in love after all these years. I can’t! I can’t and I won’t! And maybe this is what it takes for me to realize my own foolishness, make me realize I am perhaps not enough to make you stay.”- He was now with his hand holding her in place by her shoulders, he couldn’t let her get away, not now.

“No! Yes, yes you are enough Sirius it’s me who’s not right here. I wasn’t made for this place, for this life. I’m not nearly as courageous or capable to even think of running away. I’m just who I am, I was born in this place of simplicity in extravagance and I’ve always just done what I was told to do, and they’re my family too. I just; I can’t leave my sisters with them alone I can’t!”-And Sirius interjected.

“But you would come back for them!”

“By then it would be too late! Sirius if I ran away the truth is I would just be more scared than I usually am, my mother and father are still very cordial about unforgivable magic and have no wish to force me into whatever business the other purebloods are getting into. But if they one day they do end up wanting that I just wouldn’t bare to live knowing that they’re fending for themselves.”

As she mentioned her sisters Sirius visibly shrank in his clothes and his expression gradually dropped to mimic the pang in his heart. Regulus. It still hurt, knowing he left him behind. Knowing he couldn’t really save him. Although Sirius sometimes thought, late at night or in the middle of heated arguments like this, if he could’ve saved Regulus and he was just too blind or too lazy or too much of coward to be able to give his little brother a chance of another life, a better one.

But he continued to just stare at her in awful silence, and as the rain damped his suit and covered the tear that ran down his cheek, he admired her beautiful soft hair, and her lips, and her eyes, that even sorrowful still managed to flip his heart. Eventually he had to stop, because she left. Suitcase in hand and drenched in rain she left his life and became a memory. A first love.