#i'm always in the mood for robots dealing with robot problems

[honeysorwell]

Two hearts can fix everything

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Par: Wilhemina Venable x fem!Reader

Tag list: @paulsonix​​ @d14n4ol​​ @harknspet​ @strawberryshorttcakkee @italianaidiota and if any of you want to be added just let me know!

Warning: no warning just a tiny bit of "who hurt you?" vibes

Word Count: 1,3k

Enjoy!

It's a glorious day for Wilhemina. A million-dollar deal was closed between Kineros Robotics and an important technology company, all thanks to her, and that was enough for everyone to finish their work early today.

It sounded absurd to the redhead. To relax just when they were making such big progress, but there was no point in complaining about it.

This is not her company, which means the loss isn't hers either.

But the worst part is that Wilhemina really doesn't know what to do with all the time she has now. It seems strange to anticipate all the things she will have to do tomorrow and consequently push unwanted free time to the next day, so she decides to go home. But as she leaves the building where she works and heads towards her car, the redhead decides that she can just enjoy her free time watching the bartender, who just lives in her mind, work.

But just entering the colorful coffee shop, Wilhemina felt the atmosphere of the place strangely... uncomfortable.

The aroma of fresh coffee and the soft clinking of the cups were more than enough to put her in a good mood on a normal afternoon, so on an afternoon after starting such a good contract for her company, the redhead should feel ecstatic with happiness. But that afternoon, thanks to the uncomfortable aura that just consumed the normal oxygen, small sounds like those only made Wilhemina feel anxious.

The conversations were still happening but at a much lower volume than usual. A small number of people were still scattered around there, but there was also, for the first time, a large yellow sign indicating that the floor was freshly wet, as if someone had just wiped it with a damp cloth after some clumsy person had an incident.

And the strangest part of all: Y/N was nowhere to be found in the cafeteria.

Bryan was modeling a funny little name tag on his chest and an irritated look on his face, which aged him terribly in Wilhemina's opinion, but she ignored it and just walked towards the kid, not even saying hello, and asked:

"Were… Well, I'm sorry to ask, but do you know where Y/N is?"

When the sound of the redhead's voice catches the boy's attention, he finally focuses on her figure and some of the frown disappears from his face as he nods and smiles, a little excited at the prospect of answering her.

"In the back. I'll bring her here for you. You will cheer her up!"

It takes a little less than two minutes, but the woman who's smile always graces the redhead's day like a warm sun on a paradise beach appears.

The problem is that Y/N, who always radiated joy and warmth, walked from the door that connected the common area to the back of the coffee shop to the cashier with her head down and, only when she raised her eyes to meet Wilhemina's, the redhead noticed how red they were, as if the woman in front of her had recently cried.

Oh no.

"Hello, good afternoon Wilhelmina, did you ask for me?", the small greeting came along with a tired smile that made the redhead's heart tighten with worry and sadness.

"Yes, I… Are you okay? I… I was surprised not to see you as soon as I entered the store."

I missed you. The thought almost escapes Wilhemina's lips, but she bites her lower lip at the last second, briefly noticing how Y/N's gaze is mesmerized by her gesture before returning the glance to her eyes.

“You're so sweet.”, the barista says simply, purposefully ignoring the older woman's question before asking, “Coffee?”

With a hesitant nod and her cheeks flushed, Wilhemina confirmed, even with her mind whirling in search of the right words to comfort the one in front of her.

“Y/N… is everything okay with you?”, the redhead asked once more, her voice soft, almost like a whisper.

“A customer took out all his frustration on me and on the floor, if you know what I mean. But this is just one more day...", her voice was tinged with discouragement and Wilhemina then decided that she could not let Y/N sink into sadness.

What kind of woman in love would she be if she didn't?

Carefully, the redhead leaned on her cane and sat on one of the high seats in front of the counter, determined to bring back the smile she admired so much.

"Look, don't let an unhappy customer ruin your day. You are an incredible person, and your coffee is simply the best in town. Everyone who comes here knows that and appreciates you. Especially me." said the redhead, with sincerity in every word.

The words touched the heart that Y/N carried in her chest the same way someone would touch a newborn. With such great care and affection that it was impossible for the little one not to snuggle there.

"The best in town? Wow!"

After a little giggle, the two women remained in soft silence until the coffee was ready. Y/N's mind spun throughout the preparation of the redhead's usual coffee, enchanted by the sweetness of the words spoken by that very special client.

When she finally poured the hot liquid into a ceramic cup, instigated by the fact that Wilhemina had chosen to sit in front of the counter and hoping that she would

Go away now, the barista drew two hearts on the disposable napkin displayed there before presenting it to the redhead.

“You are a person like no other, Wilhelmina.”

Excited by the compliment as generous and honest as the one she herself had given Y/N, the redhead decided it was time to go further.

All or nothing. Now!

“I think you deserve a prize for being so strong and for enduring so much. Is it weird if I buy you a coffee from your coffee shop?” suggested Wilhemina, winking at Y/N while gently shaking the disposable napkin with the two hearts in front of her.

And then silence. For a few seconds, Y/N just looked at the brown eyes in front of her, completely astonished by the suggestion before gifting Wilhemina with the most beautiful smile the redhead had ever seen.

“A coffee? For me?”, Y/N asked, still completely shocked before nodding her head affirmatively with renewed enthusiasm amidst a laugh, “Buying a coffee for the owner of a coffee shop? Right on target! Good job!”

The barista’s choice of words makes a smile appear on Wilhemina’s lips, one she couldn’t hold back even if she tried. And that smile adorns the redhead’s face as Y/N makes herself a coffee, takes off her apron, and approaches the redhead with the cup still full, only to sit next to her.

“Would you be willing to give me another prize? This time one that I can choose?”, Y/N murmurs to the redhead, trying to take hold of the courage she has been building up within her soul and mind since that customer entered her coffee shop for the first time.

“Anything for you if you keep smiling at me like that.”

At that moment, something magical seemed to hover in the air. Y/N leaned a little closer, her eyes fixed and full of enthusiasm for Wilhemina’s. Very slowly and taking advantage of the silence of the almost empty coffee shop, Y/N promised herself to act as if the world around them had disappeared and, with a soft and hesitant gesture, she approached and gave Wilhemina a delicate kiss on the lips.

And when Y/N's lips touch hers, Wilhemina barely knows how to write her own name.

It is a touch of lips so sweet and careful.

The barista has one of her hands carefully placed against the redhead's cheek. Their kiss is sweet and long-awaited, like a new flavor that the redhead has wanted all her life and she couldn't be more grateful for not having had to ask for it.

Even after they separate, stunned by the intensity of the moment, the two women take a moment before opening their eyes, enjoying the precious atmosphere they share, but when they focus their gaze on each other, the words slide off Wilhemina's tongue like butter on a hot pan.

“Well, well… It was about time…”, and the redhead only gets a glimpse of Y/N's smile before leaning in and kissing her again.

[light-wolf]

I want to start doing mini-reviews for games I finish, hopefully to help motivate me to go through my immense backlog. Might also expand it to other media later but for now I'm focused on just videogames. Please keep in mind this will be entirely subjective based on my personal enjoyment with each game and it's not meant to be a "professional" review at all.

So here's the first one!

Title: Murder by Numbers

Platform: Nintendo Switch (also on PC)

Genres: Visual novel, puzzle

Publisher: The Irregular Corporation

Developer: Mediatonic

Release year: 2020

Murder by Numbers is a visual novel set in '90s Los Angeles. You follow Honor Mizrahi, a TV actress who co-starred in a successful detective show before suddenly getting fired for no apparent reason. While struggling to deal with this turn of events, Honor finds herself in the middle of a series of murder mysteries, and partnered up with the amnesiac robot SCOUT, she'll attempt to solve each case as she goes from playing a detective to being a real one.

If you've ever played an Ace Attorney game, the structure of Murder by Numbers will be very familiar to you (except for the lack of courtroom action). You investigate crime scenes, interrogate witnesses, collect evidence and present that evidence to characters to unlock more conversation options and advance the story.

What makes Murder by Numbers unique is that each piece of evidence takes the form of a nonogram puzzle that you need to solve. As a huge fan of nonograms who has wasted hundreds and hundreds of hours of his life in Picross games, this was one of the main reasons I wanted to play this game in the first place. And I have to say that, while it's a strange mix, it somehow works pretty well, at least for me. The puzzles are a bit on the easy side compared to something like the Picross S series on the Switch, but that's understandable since not all visual novel fans are hardcore Picross veterans like I am, lol. I do wish it had some of the QoL features of the Picross S games though, like the ability to count numbers by holding a button, or mass-erasing all marks, but it's not a big deal.

Of course, a visual novel is only as good as its story and cast, so let's vaguely talk about that (no spoilers). The two main characters, Honor and SCOUT, are both great. Each of them has their own struggles and character growth, and I became quite attached to them by the end. The supporting cast is more hit and miss, with some of them being very flat and/or annoying, but there are some very funny characters as well. While none of the cases gets as crazy as something from Ace Attorney (the comparison is inevitable), they're still interesting, with some nice plot twists, and there's an overarching plot across all four cases that also gets quite intense toward the end. The focus on Hollywood means there's a bunch of pop culture references that didn't really do anything for me, but they can just be ignored with no problem.

One thing that I liked about Murder by Numbers is that it touches on some unexpected themes like sexism, divorce, abuse, identity and free will. There's also a big focus on queer characters, with an entire case centered around a gay bar and drag queens. I wouldn't say it's anything groundbreaking, and it felt a bit preachy at times, but overall it was nice to see.

There's one aspect of the game that's very small but I was really bothered by it, and it's that the puzzle music often felt very out of place. The themes themselves aren't bad, but some of them are way too cheerful and often completely kill the mood. Sure, they're fine in the more lighthearted moments, but imagine you're in the middle of a dramatic scene, finding a dead body or something, and then the happiest music possible starts as you get to solve a nonogram puzzle. This doesn't always happen, with a few puzzles at key moments keeping the same music from the previous scene, but that just made me wish that the whole game was like that, or at least had more fitting puzzle music for the more somber and dramatic moments.

My other issue was that the game was quite buggy at times. The game often got locked when trying to access the map screen too quickly and I had to reset it, which usually didn't take too long thanks to autosave but it was annoying that it happened so many times. There was one time though where I went somewhere that I wasn't supposed to go (and the game didn't stop me) and then it wouldn't let me go to the correct area to progress the story, and the damn thing autosaved there so I was completely locked and had to restart the entire case and do all the puzzles again, which was very frustrating.

Despite those issues, I really enjoyed Murder by Numbers. It's basically a hybrid of Ace Attorney and Picross, two things that I love, so it's like it was made for me. The visual novel side isn't as good as Ace Attorney, and the nonogram side isn't as good as Picross, but the game is more than the sum of its parts and the overall package is quite nice and worth playing, especially considering that I got it for like US$5. Honestly it was quite a steal at that price, and I definitely recommend it if you're a fan of visual novels and/or nonogram puzzles.

[timeoverload]

The past couple days have been ok I guess. Nothing that exciting has happened. I had too much to do last night so I couldn't be on here that much. It's difficult for me to be active on here when I have a lot of stuff to do or when I'm exhausted. I'm not upset about anything or trying to ignore anyone.

It has been busy at work like usual. I heard earlier that it's not supposed to slow down until the end of February so that will be fun. It's rarely that slow anymore.

I know I said I wasn't going to say anything about him anymore but the morning team lead was making me so uncomfortable earlier. He had a migraine and was in a bad mood. I got to work and he was in a rage because they couldn't find the robot accessory tray. I know he isn't intentionally trying to direct his anger towards me but it feels that way when he's swearing and yelling very loud right next to me. I'm generally very calm in those situations and I always try to help people find things. I know that it wasn't worth getting that upset about. They ended up finding it and discovered that someone wrapped the instruments in the wrong pan by mistake. He got so pissed off and was talking to me like I was the one that fucked up. He is so rude and I don't think he realizes it. I ended up having to leave the room and stand in the hallway outside the operating rooms just so I could avoid being alone with him while he was continuing to throw a tantrum. He is off next week and I'm glad about that.

I have been wanting to talk to the director about it but he has way too much to worry about right now and he has been working 12 hour shifts every day. Thankfully my boss is back from medical leave but she isn't working very much so I can't talk to her about it. Hopefully I can talk to someone sometime.

We are still having lots of computer problems and it's making it so hard to get things done. I used to be able to load the autoclave in 30 seconds but now I have to stand at the computer and wait for the program to load. It reminds me of having to use dial-up for internet and I don't miss that. It doesn't help that the computer that is connected to the autoclaves is like 10 years old and needs to be replaced. It's not a huge deal but it's a little inconvenient. There's not much I can do about it anyway.

I don't know if I'm going to be able to take both the 2nd and the 3rd off now. I forgot I have to use PTO for Christmas so I think I will be 2 hours short. I will probably end up working on the 3rd anyway but it's alright I guess. I don't really have anything planned.

I was limping a lot most of the day. I wore my clogs for the last time yesterday. They used to help me so much but now they are too heavy. I wore regular shoes today and it still felt like I had a sandbag strapped to my leg. I thought they might make walking easier but it didn't help that much. I'm not sure what to do about it but I will manage. I tried to get up a little bit ago after sitting for a while and I lost my balance because my leg gave out on me. It's very tingly right now. I'm afraid I'm going to fall sometime but I hope that doesn't happen. It would be nice if my leg felt better tomorrow.

I got off work on time so that was nice. I came home and I cleaned the cat fountain. I tried to clean Soupy and Salazaar's ears by myself and I was unsuccessful. I think I need to take them in the bathroom or something and close the door so they can't run away and hide. It's hard to chase them around and wrangle them up when I'm not moving very fast. I was able to do it last night and of course they hate it so I think they are afraid of me now. I just want them to be healthy.

I'm really hoping that at least one pair of my glasses are ready by Friday because I'm having a hard time. It would be nice to have a couple of days to adjust to them. I wish they didn't cost so much but I'm still looking forward to getting them anyway.

I don't haven't much else to say. I really don't want to do anything the rest of the night and it's hard to get up. I wish I could shut my brain off and relax. I think I'm going to make some food sometime soon and get ready for bed. I need to go to sleep earlier tonight. I'm hoping that tomorrow will be ok.

I hope everyone has a good day tomorrow!!! 💖💖💖

[melodylandmouse]

Last week I think? Pom brought up that they had read something about lawyers jogging to help with anxiety and that they could see Benny doing that which I heckin’ LOVED the idea of, so I went out and read a thing about lawyers also meditating to help with stress, so all of that combined with the already existent headcanon of mine that Benny is made of pipe cleaners and duct tape (read: flimsy as all heck) resulted in me writing this little ditty.

Just a shortish one-shot that I’ve been calling “Benny Jogs to Taco Bell” even though a more accurate title would be something along the lines of:

“Benny Tries to Run from his Problems but is Harshly Reminded that he is his Own Problem Most of the Time (also Oliver is there)”

Contains fluff, doctors doing doctor things, and lots of robots being robotic. Rated PG-13 tops probably, fic below the cut, rip mobile users. 1800 words. Not the best thing I’ve ever written, but I still like it, so enjoy. I don’t think there’s any applicable trigger warnings since they’re all robots?

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

Of all the unusual sights in Toontown, a backstabber booking it around the courtyard of Lawbot Headquarters before a trial was not one of them.

“There he goes,” buzzed a Spin Doctor to a Big Wig, both Lawbots’ glares following the lesser cog as he jogged by the entryway. He very nearly tripped over an invading toon on his way by, but he was too busy and she too stunned for them to engage.

The Big Wig scoffed and shook his head. “This case will not even be a challenge. I almost pity that shopkeeper.”

“Agreed. The rabbit would have been better off being represented by a pile of scrap he picked up off the street,” the Doctor added, turning his nose up. As they continued on their way to the courtroom, their sneers nearly turned to cruel smiles.

Benedict heard none of this. His focus was inward even as he nearly ran over that cat by the entryway. He didn't think about his ill-fated defense, didn't think about that openly-mocking prosecutor, and certainly didn't think about what was going to happen to his defendant when he inevitably lost this case… He had already taken the time to hope that some toons would be in the jury, and now he had ten minutes of nothing but last minute preparations before he needed to be in court, unless he wanted to be late to being thirty minutes early for the trial.

He had tried taking these ten minutes to update his will and say some hopeless prayers in the past, and therefore knew firsthand that this was a better way to spend his limited time. He kept his eyes forward, watching the floor ahead of him to make sure he didn't trip or run over anything, holding his pace at a brisk jog. Any faster and he'd be putting unnecessary stress on his systems. Any slower, and he wouldn't need to concentrate on keeping said systems in check. This way, he could just feel his pistons pumping at a constant rate, just focus on getting his oil flowing to every limb, just listen over the mostly deadened noise of his engine to the dull whir of his fans and bellows working to keep his components cool and clear, and of course just plunk, CRASH!

Benny didn't even have time to register that something had happened before he was on the ground in a dazed heap. That hadn't felt very good...

He groaned and sat up easily enough… He hadn't detected anything wrong before he had gone down, so perhaps it had just been some imperfection on the completely smooth and level flooring that had made him slip up…? He started to get up slowly, and discovered the problem almost immediately when his left knee buckled under pressure. He was sure he could hear something grinding in there, and, even worse, something rattling around further down his leg whenever he moved it. He winced. ‘Scrap...’

Rather than trying that again, he deployed his propeller, the blades whirling above his head just quick enough to get him off the ground and upright. He cautiously lowered himself; he could still control that leg despite the knee being what he could only describe as dislocated, so maybe... Yes, it could still support his weight so long as he didn't put too much on it. The moment he tried to bend it to walk, however, he nearly ended up on the ground again.

After several minutes of cautious experimentation that left him gritting his teeth, Benny was finally heading towards the courtroom with a stiff limp. So long as he kept that leg locked straight, it would support him long enough to take quick steps. Sure that rattling sound was attracting some stares, but it wasn’t like that was particularly unusual. He was used to ignoring them, and so just kept his eyes ahead and flew over the stairs rather than climbing them. He’d just have to make sure he stood in one spot during the trial, and hope his rhetoric was strong enough to keep everyone’s attention on his defense...

He was about to duck hurriedly into the courtroom when someone seized him by the elbow on his injured side and started dragging him in the opposite direction. Benny yelped as his leg was knocked out of its locked position by the sudden movement, but the grip on his arm made sure he stayed upright. “What do you think you’re—” His indignant remark was abruptly cut off when he looked up and saw a familiar Spin Doctor glancing down at him.

“Silence. You have the time,” Oliver said firmly, guiding Benny around the corner to one of the marble benches lining the hallway. It was quieter over here without the noise of all those other Lawbots shuffling into the courtroom. The Spin Doctor set to work the moment the Backstabber was sitting, bending the malfunctioning leg experimentally.

The grinding and rattling still made Benny grimace. “How come you weren’t in the courtroom already?”

“I was coming to look for you. You were late,” Oliver explained. He already had Benny’s leg open, the small bolts that had been holding the exterior plates together each falling victim to a simple twirl of Oliver’s fingers.

Benny watched Oliver work with almost morbid fascination; his favorite Spin Doctor hadn’t wanted to be a mechanic at first, but that hadn’t stopped him from becoming so well practiced at his job that Benny couldn’t even feel him plucking bolts and poking around his internal structures. “Only relatively,” he said defensively, but it had little bite to it. “And now I suppose you know why.”

Oliver frowned, reaching down into his leg. “I’ve already called Jennifer.” He pulled out a particularly large screw from the bottom of Benny’s leg and showed it to him.

Benny groaned. “Oh no, that really wasn’t necessary!”

“This is a support screw, Benedict, an important one. If the other falls out, this joint is worthless,” Oliver growled, nudging Benny’s nearly useless leg for emphasis. Benny flinched, glancing stubbornly off to the side. “You insist on jogging even though you know your structure cannot safely handle the strain. I am finished waiting around for you to break down every time you take a case, so Jennifer is going to get you some better parts and you are going to sit still long enough for us to install them.”

“So that’s why you keep sitting in on all my clients’ trials.”

Oliver carefully replaced the fallen screw, spinning it back into place with a flick of his precise fingers. “It is one of the many reasons.”

Benny couldn’t help but smile. He glanced back over and saw Oliver looking up at him expectantly. He slowly bent his leg. Oliver studied the working parts carefully, then stood up straight and offered Benny his hand. Benny used it for leverage, and stretched his legs. Satisfied that he wouldn’t fall apart mid-trial, Oliver closed the plates over his leg again.

“Thank you.”

“Just take things slow until I can get a better look.”

“I’ll do my best,” Benny promised with a small chuckle.

The pair headed back towards the trial, Benny’s hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

 ------------------------

“Are you sure this is an ‘improvement’?”

It was the most skeptical expression both Oliver and the Micromanager standing next to him had ever seen on a Backstabber who happened to be doing lunges in circles around them.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Ben,” replied Jennifer, the Micromanager. “Sellbot parts are the easiest to get even without considering that any other make would have to be imported.”

“They will do,” Oliver added firmly.

Benny stood up straight and looked distastefully down at his legs. They looked exactly the same on the outside, but inside they were all but entirely different. Oliver, with Jennifer’s assistance, had spent several hours working on fitting the barely compatible legs of a Two-Face chassis into Benny’s frame without damaging any parts. It was fortunate that Oliver had been up to the challenge, or else the upgrade may not have worked; although they were the correct size, fitting all of Benny’s modified parts in and around them in a way that wouldn’t cause any problems in the foreseeable future had caused some anticipated difficulty. Oliver was rather proud of his work, and knew that Benny really did appreciate the effort, so he didn’t mind quite as much when the Backstabber had scowled at the concept of having Sellbot insignias engraved into almost every part of his lower chassis.

“I believe you,” Benny said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying that I’m pretty sure that going from high quality Lawbot engineering to this is more of a downgrade in general.”

Oliver and Jennifer exchanged a look, but neither was about to remind him that he hadn’t been built with quite the same integrity as other Lawbots.

“I’ll admit it, I do not disagree with you there,” Jennifer said instead, pulling a pair of sunglasses from a pocket inside her suit. “But considering that you can jog to your heart’s content now, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the gags on this one. Take care, Ben, Oliver.”

“Take care,” Oliver replied as she took her leave. Benny just hummed, lost in thought. Oliver gave him a look. “What is it?”

Benny looked over at him, thinking about the new parts. And more specifically, how Jennifer had probably gotten her hands on them... None of them was overly troubled when it came to finances, but brand new Sellbot replacement parts, especially chassis components, were not cheap. She certainly had not resorted to petty theft to get them for him, at least not in the traditional sense, but that wasn’t reassuring. He had seen the alternatives land many cogs and toons alike in much deeper trouble than simple crime would have. “Nothing you need to worry about,” Benny said with a reassuring smile.

Oliver knew that look all too well. That affectionate sort of smile that he had seen older toons give their younger counterparts... He found it endearing and patronizing in equal measure. He frowned and shook his head. “As if I wasn’t the one just looking after you.”

Benny actually laughed aloud at that. “You can’t blame me for that! You obviously worry enough as it is. Like I’m going to intentionally bother you with any of my problems.”

“Do you have any more problems for me to be bothered by?” Oliver asked immediately, seeming to think that if he squinted hard enough at Benedict’s face that he’d be able to read his mind.

“Oh, let me get out my list,” Benny snickered, clapping him on the shoulder.

Oliver might’ve scoffed at that, but it came out as more of a snort. “Point taken.”

“Good. Now off you get, I’ve got things to do.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

Benny just smiled and jogged off into the distance. Oliver rolled his eyes and nearly groaned aloud. Of course he was going to break in his new joints.

And if that ended up being literal again, so help him...

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

Thanks for reading! <3

[annzybwrites]

First Comes Friendship

Read on AO3

"Tobey, I think you just need a good friend." WordGirl sighed, holding the remote control for all of his robots as she hovered a few feet above his head.

"Friend?!" Tobey scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked away. "Don't be ridiculous! I have my robots. They're all the friends I need!"

"Oh, really?" She crossed her arms, raising a brow at him. "Because lately it seems like you've been doing petty crimes just so I'd come out and talk to you."

"What?" Tobey jolted, laughing nervously as he glanced around. "N-no! These are masterful schemes, I assure you! And I absolutely detest when you stop me!"

"Just this week you've used your robots to rob one store and then waited for me to show up."

"I did not wait for you to arrive, I was merely caught in the act --"

"And when I put a stop to your 'dastardly scheme,' you gave me a gift and asked if I was busy."

"Well, I was only curious --"

"And when I said I had to go, you said you'd keep attacking stores until I went somewhere with you--"

"All right!" Tobey interrupted with a yell, sighing just as loudly afterwards. "All right, I admit it! I've... been feeling very lonely." He took a deep breath, turning his back to his greatest enemy and crush as he crossed his arms. "Mother's job is going to be keeping her very busy for a few months, and the babysitters she hires are not exactly the best company. They never understand me! They either want nothing to do with me, or they talk my ear off about something meaningless like, like high school drama."

"Yuck." WordGirl shivered at the prospect. "That does sound rather torturous."

"See?" Tobey groaned, walking to the edge of the skyscraper they were on so he could take a seat. "Now do you understand why I want to be anywhere except my house?"

WordGirl frowned, slowly flying over to sit next to him. While being sure to keep the remote away from him still. "Yes, I can understand... But that doesn't excuse your behavior! You can't wreck the city every time you're in a bad mood."

"Why not?" Tobey sniffled, hugging his legs to his chest. "It always cheers me up. Or at least distracts me for awhile."

"Oh, Tobey." WordGirl sighed again, glancing away as she tried to think about how to solve his problem. "If you stayed at a friend's house, then your mom wouldn't need to hire a babysitter, right?"

"A peaceful proposition." Tobey scowled, glaring sideways at her. "Unfortunately, I don't have a close friend like that."

"Really?" WordGirl chewed at her lip, having an internal debate with herself before she decided to bite the bullet. "There isn't one family who wouldn't mind having you around? Say... a certain family you have Thanksgiving with every year, for example?"

Tobey's eyes widened in surprise. "The Botsford's?" He straightened up, turning to her with wide eyes. "You really think they'd have me?"

"Why not?" WordGirl shrugged, keeping her polite smile on her face. She knew what she was signing herself up for but, honestly, this would be much more preferable than having to stop his robots every day. "They already know you and your... eccentricities."

"I don't know..." Tobey winced slightly, glancing away as he admitted, "Becky and I don't exactly get along well. And I can't really blame her, considering how often I almost destroy her home. And how I've accused her of being you multiple times now."

"That does sound kind of bad." WordGirl hummed, tapping at her chin. "But I know Becky pretty well. I'm sure if you told her about your plight, she'd have some sympathy."

"You really think so?"

"Mmhm." WordGirl narrowed her eyes at him. "But only if you also promise not to destroy anything while you're at her house!"

"Of course!" Tobey brightened, clasping his hands together. "Oh, staying at the Botsford's sounds much better than dealing with Suzy. She's my latest babysitter -- she makes terrible meatloaf! The worst I've ever had! Would you like to come experience it for yourself?"

"Um, yeah, no thanks."

"Please?" Tobey scooted closer, widening his eyes as he gave a truly pathetic frown. "I'm so lonely. Remember? The talk we just had? I promise not to destroy anything for the rest of the week!"

WordGirl groaned before relenting. "Fine. Let's go." She scooped him up and flew back to his house, the single robot he'd brought slowly following after.

---

A new routine emerged for Tobey McCallister III and Becky Botsford. Mrs. McCallister was ecstatic that her son was showing interest in another classmate of his, and had called up the Botsford's that night to ask if they wouldn't mind housing Tobey after school for a few days -- with compensation for the trouble, of course. The Botsford's had agreed immediately, since they were very friendly and polite people.

Honestly, it wasn't that bad to have Tobey around. Sure, he was still annoying whenever he insisted that he was "so much smarter and better" than everyone around him, but he and Becky were both avid readers and could spend hours discussing the finer themes and details of their favorite book series, as well as share in some of their own personal headcanons for the characters. They also helped each other with homework, and could complain about how difficult art class was for them together. Tobey was more than delighted to teach Becky some more advanced coding when she'd shown an interest in it, and she returned the favor by teaching him how to make a few simple snacks, like ants-on-a-log and peanut-butter-banana rollups. She even helped him practice a few sports so he would have an easier time during P.E. class.

Unfortunately, Becky quickly realized something she hadn't considered when she'd so graciously suggested Tobey come stay with her family. Anytime a different villain began wrecking the city, she had to come up with some kind of excuse to sneak away so Tobey didn't become suspicious, since it was rare that she could send Captain Huggy Face to fight a villain alone. Sometimes an excuse was easy, like saying she was going to take a quick nap or that she was having trouble focusing on an assignment and needed to lock herself in her room to complete it. Other times she blurted something out like "I have to use the bathroom!" or "I just, um, forgot something!" which was usually met with questions when she returned.

Honestly, she considered it a miracle that Tobey hadn't started accusing her of being WordGirl again. But she decided she shouldn't keep pushing her luck, so she also invited Scoops and Violet to come over most evenings so they could help distract Tobey when she had to do WordGirl business. She was so used to doing everything herself that it felt a little weird to rely on her friends for this, but she really couldn't be more grateful. She almost wished she'd told her friends about her secret identity sooner.

After two months of this routine, Becky was relieved when Mrs. McCallister's job stopped being so demanding and Tobey only needed to come over three times a week instead of every day like before. At first Becky worried that this would come with more robot catastrophes, but surprisingly Tobey still kept quiet. Which was great news for both her and the city.

And so two more months passed like this, with Tobey staying out of trouble and Becky able to live her double-life with relative ease.

Then, something happened that she didn't expect.

---

"It was amazing, Becky!" Tobey was practically bouncing as they walked to the Botsford's home. "I've never, ever been able to even hit a baseball before. But thanks to your help, I got a home run in gym today!"

"That's amazing!" Becky chuckled, bumping their shoulders together playfully. "I wish I'd been there to see it."

"Y-yes!" Tobey cleared his throat, his smiling cheeks just a bit more pink than Becky remembered them being a second ago. "Well, I'll, I'll be sure to have one of my robots record me next time."

"As long as they don't start wrecking the school if you flub it."

"Flub!" Tobey laughed jovially, rubbing the back of his neck as his smile softened. "What a word. You don't hear that one every day."

"Oh, do you need it defined? It means --"

"No, no, I know what it means." He chuckled, shaking his head as he mumbled under his breath, "although you do sound rather cute when you explain what something means."

"What was that? You were mumbling."

"Nothing!" Tobey straightened again, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I won't be destroying anything anytime soon as long as I'm staying at your house. I made an oath to WordGirl, and I intend to keep it!" He chewed at his lip, glancing away as he mumbled again, "Although now I think I'd keep that promise for a very different reason."

"What was that last bit?"

"Not important." He took a breath, facing forwards again as he chewed at his lip. "Um... I did want to discuss something with you, though, if you wouldn't mind?"

"What is it?" Becky tilted her head, blinking at him.

"Well, you see, um..." Tobey rubbed the back of his neck again, his eyes shifting back and forth. "Since I haven't been getting into any trouble lately, I haven't had an opportunity to interact with WordGirl, either. And there's something I desperately need to tell her."

Becky raised a brow in suspicion. This couldn't be good. "Okay... what does this have to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you knew the best way to contact her?" Tobey chuckled weakly, a sheepish smile on his face. "She'd said she knew you quite well, so I assumed you must have some form of communication with her."

"Oh." Becky pursed her lips, staring at his hopeful expression as she considered the request.

He really had been good lately, not deploying his robots for the smallest inconvenience like he used to. She remembered one lunch period when they'd ran out of pudding cups, and she'd actually felt kind of proud of Tobey when he'd calmed himself down from a tantrum. He'd slumped over and humbly asked if he could share some of Becky's pudding, instead of threaten to destroy the lunchroom or break into the pudding factory to get more.

So why did he want to talk to WordGirl? Was it really just for a harmless chat? He did have a crush on her after all, despite how much he claimed they were "mortal enemies." Maybe he just missed her. And, besides, if he tried anything funny she could easily escape.

"Okay... I can tell her to meet with you."

"Yes!" Tobey shot both of his fists into the air as he cheered. "Oh, thank you, Becky! I'll repay you somehow, I swear it! I could build you a robot that does anything your heart desires. Perhaps one that will clean your room for you?"

Becky gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?? That would be so helpful!"

"Well, of c-course!" He laughed, his cheeks turning a bit pink again as he smiled at her. "Anything for you."

Becky creased her brows together. "Huh?"

Tobey jolted, his smile stretching unnaturally. "I mean -- it's the l-least I could do! To repay you! Ha, ha..."

---

After Tobey had went home for the night, Becky waited a half hour before turning into WordGirl and flying over to the McCallister house. She still had her suspicions, but she'd promised he'd be able to talk to her, so she didn't have much choice.

After two knocks on his window, Tobey opened it up with a wide smile. "WordGirl! So nice of you to drop by. Please, come in, come in -- I had some hot chocolate prepared for us while we talk."

"Ooh, really?" WordGirl quickly flew in, snatching up a mug from his desk and taking a big sip. "Aaah, that's good stuff."

"I'm glad you like it." Tobey chuckled, coming over to pick up his own mug. "Becky seemed to like this brand, so I had mother buy a lot of it. I still enjoy tea, but there is something comforting about cocoa."

WordGirl raised a brow at him, setting her mug down so she could regard him more seriously. "I know you didn't invite me over just to chat about hot beverages."

"No, no, of course not." Tobey took a sip of his drink before setting it down as well, his cheeks a little pink like they were walking home from school that day. "You see, there's, there's something I must confess to you, WordGirl."

"Oh, yeah?" She tilted her head, surprised at his expression. He looked rather flustered if she had to put a word to it, what with the way he was avoiding her gaze while playing with his fingers. "And what is that?"

"You see, I..." He laughed softly, covering his eyes with both of his hands. "This is rather embarrassing to admit, but I... I used to have a rather large crush on you."

WordGirl tensed, her own cheeks heating up from his bluntness. And then she cued into a rather important part of his statement. "Used to?"

"Yes." Tobey took a deep breath, lowering his hands and folding them behind his back instead. Though his head was still tilted down, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes avoiding hers shyly. "I know, I know, you must be devastated. To think, you and I could have been a power couple, a dream team! If only you'd realized how I felt sooner and acted upon it. But, alas, in your hesitance someone else has snatched my heart."

WordGirl decided to avoid mentioning how she did know how he felt, and was simply not interested. "Someone else?"

"Yes." Tobey sighed dreamily, bringing his hands up to his cheeks as he smiled. "The most wonderous girl. Top of her class, a voracious hunger for knowledge, so beautiful and graceful, with such a kind heart -- a little messy, perhaps, and not the best artist but, then again, neither am I!" He chuckled, glancing up at WordGirl with a shine in his eyes that she usually only saw when he'd gotten something he wanted. "But the best thing about her by far is that she's... she's actually my friend. We get along so swimmingly now, and she makes me want to be a better person; less destructive. I've even started making more friends because of her, to the point where I actually think I could invite some of them to my house instead of just talk with them at school!"

"Wow..." WordGirl was speechless after that, her jaw just slightly open. He was really serious about this, huh? "So, you're not only over me, you're... turning good?"

"Yes!" Tobey brightened, sliding his hands off of his cheeks to clasp them together in front of his chest instead. "That's right! I don't have much need to be a villain anymore. Now that I have a real friend, the unpleasantness of the world doesn't seem so unbearable. At least not so much that I need to wreak havoc with my robots." His smile lessened, his tone losing some of its excitement. "I guess the only downfall of turning good is that I won't have an excuse to see you anymore. You were my first love, after all, so this has been a difficult decision to make, but... I think it's the right one."

WordGirl honestly felt like she needed to sit down. She never thought that Tobey would just stop being a villain. He called himself an evil boy genius all the time! And not only that, but he no longer had a crush on her? This was incredible! Something she could have only dreamed about!

She laughed quietly, picking up her mug again for another sip of hot chocolate. "Well, whoever this girl is, she must be really special to crack through your evil exterior."

"Oh, she is." Tobey sighed again, closing his eyes as he smiled up at the ceiling. "I'm so lucky to know her, WordGirl. I think... I think I might ask her on a date soon."

"Wow." WordGirl smiled warmly, patting his shoulder encouragingly. "Well, if you think she likes you, too, then go for it!"

"Oh, thank you!" He beamed at her, his cheeks turning pink again. "It's so nice to have your blessing. And, if--if it's not too much of an imposition, maybe you could... put in a good word for me to her?"

"I guess I'll give it a shot." WordGirl started taking a sip of cocoa. "Who is it?"

"You actually know her already! Becky Botsford."

WordGirl choked on her drink and accidentally spit it out, all over Tobey.

"Oh!" He winced in disgust, snapping his fingers so a robot would come over and start toweling him off. "Gross, so gross!"

"Sorry!" WordGirl wiped at her mouth, certain her own cheeks were pink now. "Did you say B-Becky Botsford?"

"Yes." Tobey grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket so he could wipe off his glasses. "We've become quite close! Sharing deep discussions of literature and history together, teaching each other new skills -- I actually hit a home run today thanks to her previous instruction!"

"Th-that's great." WordGirl chewed at her lip, her stomach flipping around several times over. "But, um... are you sure she feels the same way about you?"

"Well, no, I'm not sure," he admitted, glancing away as he put his glasses back onto his face. "But that's why I'd be so grateful if you put in a good word for me! We're so compatible, WordGirl, you have to believe me."

"Um..." WordGirl chewed at her lip, glancing side to side as she thought of how to handle this situation. She liked Tobey just fine, in fact she would go so far as to say he was a friend of hers now. But to date him? She really hadn't thought of him that way, nor was she looking for that kind of relationship right now. She was busy enough as it was. "I don't know if I --"

"Please, WordGirl!" Tobey stepped closer, staring at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Just a good word, nothing more. I know you can't make her date me, or even like me that way, but... but if I could just be given the chance to show her how I feel, prove to her how much I care, demonstrate what I'd do to win her affection -- that's all I ask."

WordGirl gave a wavering hum, now even more conflicted. How could she promise to "put in a good word" for him without giving him too much hope? Oh, why did he have to have a crush on her secret identity; what if he went back to being evil after being rejected!

"I have a question before I agree to this."

"Ask away!" Tobey brightened, his hands still clasped by his chest. "Anything!"

"If I do put in a good word for you, and she still doesn't want to date you, will you go back to wrecking the city?"

"Ah." Tobey actually chuckled a little, placing his hands behind his back again as he took a breath. "A fair question; I'd expect nothing less from you. I won't deny that it will be very tempting to go back to my old ways if she rejects me, but I have thought about this outcome." Taking a deep breath, he stared right into WordGirl's eyes as he spoke, his tone firm and serious, "I decided that as long as she still remains my friend, then I shall not destroy the city. After all, I wouldn't want to lose the relationship we've developed already, and she'd never come to love me if I behave like that again! No, no, I would just try even harder to win her over. No matter how long it takes."

"I see." WordGirl smiled uncomfortably. She supposed it was nice to know that he wouldn't go back to smashing buildings after she rejected him, but she didn't exactly feel relieved at the last part of his statement. "Well... I guess if that's really the case, then..." She sighed, accepting defeat. "I'll put in a good word for you."

Tobey squealed in excitement, rushing over to hug her. "Oh, thank you, WordGirl! Be sure to mention to her how smart and clever I am, and how we could go on marvelous dates thanks to my ingenious robots -- do you want me to write this down for you?"

"No, no, I got it." WordGirl sighed, trying to think of the kindest way she could turn him down as he rambled on and on about how great he was.

---

"Wow." Violet stared at her best friend in shock as they sat in the sandbox together the next day. "Tobey's really going to ask you out?"

"This is juicy news!" Scoops was already scribbling on his notepad. "The first real couple in our class! And we're not even 7th graders yet!"

"I didn't say I was going to agree!!" Becky groaned, covering her slowly-reddening face. "I need your help on how to reject him, you guys."

When she was met with silence, Becky peeked at her friends between her fingers.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Violet waved her hands nonchalantly, sharing a look with Scoops. "It's just that... we kind of thought you liked him, too."

If Becky's face hadn't been warm before, now it definitely was. "What!? Why would you think that!"

"Well..." Scoops scratched underneath his hat with his trusty pen. "Lately, you guys have been hanging out even when he doesn't need to come to your house. And you should hear how fast and excited you two get when you talk to each other."

"That's just because we're talking about books!" Becky crossed her arms, turning her head away. "We like to discuss and debate things sometimes."

"True." Violet nodded, hesitating before continuing. "But you guys also share your lunches a lot."

Scoops nodded in agreement. "You even voluntarily chose to be his partner in our latest group project."

"That's just because you two always pair up!" Becky huffed. "And, I mean -- we are friends, you know? I just--I don't feel that way about him!"

Violet and Scoops shared another look, increasing Becky's annoyance.

"Okay." Violet smiled weakly. "If you say so."

"Then just tell him you want to stay friends." Scoop shrugged, muttering quietly under his breath, "For now."

"Hey, I heard that!" Becky stood up, certain she was bright red. "Ugh! I'm just going to get this over with and prove to you that I do not like Tobey McCallister!"

Violet and Scoops simply giggled together as she stomped off, heading to where she knew Tobey would be hiding -- the school computer lab. Because as much as he appreciated Becky helping him improve his physical fitness, he still preferred to work on something robotic during recess.

"Tobey!"

"Gah!" Tobey jumped at the computer desk he'd been hunched over, quickly closing out of whatever he'd been doing before turning to her with a nervous smile. "Becky! So nice of you to visit -- did you decide to try playing a video game with me after all?"

"No." Becky huffed, placing her hands on her hips as she took a deep breath. And then stopped, because she realized that she couldn't actually reject him until he asked her out, since she shouldn't technically know that he liked her yet. "I mean, uh... yes! I thought it could be fun..."

Tobey brightened, quickly hopping off of his seat to offer it to her. "Oh, wonderful! There's a lovely little online co-op game that I've been wanting to try called 'Fireboy and Watergirl.' It's rather old, but, I, um, haven't had anyone who would play with me before, so I haven't had the chance to play it -- anyway, I'll get another chair!"

He rushed off before Becky could say anything, so she simply sighed and took a seat. Okay, this wasn't a big deal. She'd play the game with him, then he'd ask her out and she could tell him she wanted to stay friends. Nice and easy; a simple plan.

Except he hadn't asked her out before recess had ended. Nor did he ask her out as they walked to her house, or when they did homework together, or when they started watching a movie and complaining about the plot-holes.

He didn't ask her out the next day, when they worked on their group project during and after school.

He didn't ask her out the day after, when he asked her to show her some more soccer moves to prepare for the upcoming unit.

He didn't even ask her out when he presented her with the room-cleaning robot he'd promised to make her, and she felt like that would have been the perfect opportunity.

It was honestly starting to get to her a little bit. An entire week passed and he'd said nothing, and on top of that she had to endure more teasing from Violet and Scoops as they still insisted that she liked him.

But she didn't like him that way! Sure, she had fun talking with him about movies and books, and he was kind of funny when he started ranting about society's arbitrary rules, and she could always count on him to help her with an assignment, and he was kind of cute when he was so focused on building something--

... Wait. Had she just called Tobey cute?

---

"I can't believe Sir Finvold has to go fight in another battle!" Becky complained to Tobey as they left the library together.

"I know, right?" Tobey sighed, staring forlornly up at the sky. "Can't he and Princess Triana have just one, romance-filled day together?"

"Right??" Becky groaned, crossing her arms as she pouted. "I think they've earned that!" She took a deep breath to try and calm down. "At least Prince VanLandingham is doing well."

"I wouldn't be too sure -- he's preparing to take over as king in just under a year! That's a lot of pressure."

"But he'll be able to do so much good as king!" Becky argued. "He can finally initiate all of those agriculture ideas he has, and you just know he'll really listen to the people of his kingdom!"

"If he doesn't decide to ignore his duties by pigheadedly rushing to the battlefield again --"

"Hey, he outgrew that behavior in book eight!"

"Old habits are hard to break, you know."

Becky scoffed, rolling her eyes before grinning at him. "What, speaking from experience? Is this your way of telling me you're returning to evil?"

Tobey went silent after that, his own smirk dropping into a small smile. "No, no. That life no longer appeals to me, I assure you."

"Oh." Becky felt her own vigor for their mini-argument deflating. "Yeah, that--I, I was just joking. Sorry."

"Mm, no need to apologize." Tobey hummed, turning to her with a brighter expression. "Say, why don't we get some ice cream before heading our separate ways?"

"Sounds great!" Becky smiled back before teasing again, "That way I can formally debate you on Prince VanLandingham's newfound dedication to his role as king."

"Oh, you're on!"

They went right back to playfully bickering as they walked the rest of the way to the ice cream shop, and even kept up the argument inbetween ordering -- which was a little confusing for the servers. They only stopped talking once they sat on a bench outside and took their first licks of ice cream -- rocky road for Becky and mint chocolate chip for Tobey.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Tobey asked, much quieter than just a few moments ago when he'd been recalling all of the bad decisions Prince VanLandingham had made in the past. "Talking together, indulging in a frozen treat."

"I suppose so." Becky licked at her cone, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. "It'd be even better if you had the correct opinions on the prince."

"Oh, you are truly a delight." Tobey chuckled, his smile only widening as he fully turned to look at her. "I could say the same thing about you, you know?"

"But I said it first," Becky sang, very pleased with herself.

"Yes, that you did." Tobey bit into his ice cream, chewing quietly for a few seconds before he spoke again. "Becky, I... I have something I would like to tell you."

"Hm?" Becky froze, halfway between licking her own ice cream. She quickly pulled her tongue back into her mouth so she could look at him, her heart skipping a beat. Was this the moment? He was finally going to ask her out? Right now? After a month??

"Well, I..." Tobey cleared his throat, his cheeks slowly turning red. His eyes flickered over to her, but it seemed he couldn't keep them on her as he continued. "I wanted you to know how much I've been enjoying our time together. When I first started coming to your house out of necessity, I never anticipated that we'd grow so close. But now I feel very comfortable calling you my friend, and--and I hope you feel comfortable calling me the same?"

Becky chewed at her lip briefly before she nodded, staring avidly at her own ice cream cone. "Yeah. I can very easily call you a friend, Tobey."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Tobey laughed quickly, his hand starting to shake as he held his ice cream. "I mean, I thought so, but when I'd said it just now I realized I didn't actually know if you felt the same or if I was reading too much into things -- anyway!" He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath to calm the shaking before he started again. "I would be very happy continuing on just like this. But... I would be lying if I said that friendship was the only thing I wanted from you."

Becky's stomach flipped around inside her. She ate some more of her ice cream to try and settle it.

"Becky Botsford." Tobey took another breath, turning to look at her. He only continued talking when she met his gaze out of the corner of her own. "I would be so very honored if you would agree to go on a date with me. I already have the perfect one planned out! I'll have one of my robots fly us to New York where we can peruse the gargantuan library as we please, then it's off to Paris for a nice meal --"

"Woah, woah." Becky interrupted him with a laugh, using her ice cream to cover her smile as she glanced away. "That is way too much for a first date."

"It is?" Tobey's smile dropped into a look of pure panic. "S-sorry, just--forget the whole thing, then--"

"Wait." Becky silenced him by reaching for his hand this time; just a gentle touch of her fingertips on the back of his hand, but she could feel how he tensed from the action. "I didn't actually give my answer yet."

"Oh?" His voice cracked, so he quickly cleared his throat and said the same thing, only lower. "I mean, oh?"

Becky giggled, shaking her head lightly. "Oh, indeed." She looked at him then, taking a second to enjoy his disbelieving eyes and his bashful blush. "A date sounds fun."

His already widened eyes opened even more, his jaw dropping in shock. "It... it does?"

Becky nodded.

"It does!" Tobey was so excited that he jumped to his feet, smiling ear to ear as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "It does!! Oh, it does!"

"Yes!" Becky laughed, joining him in standing as she watched him bounce. "But it definitely needs to be more relaxed than what you first had planned. Maybe just a movie to start with?"

"That's perfect!" Tobey stood flat on his feet, holding his ice cream in both of his hands as he stared at her, his smile turning more dopey by the second. "Just the two of us in the dim theater, sharing a popcorn, maybe even holding hands?"

Becky hoped she wasn't blushing as hard as Tobey was. She swallowed before mumbling, "We could even h-hold hands right now, maybe."

"What??" Tobey's voice cracked again. "Do thine ears deceive me? Did you just say --"

"I'm not going to repeat it if you ask."

"Then say no more!" Tobey straightened up, hesitating just a little as he reached for her hand. When she didn't move away, he smiled even wider and confidently took her hand in his, squeezing gently.

Becky felt the need to eat more of her ice cream, hoping it would cool some of the heat she could definitely feel in her face now.

"Oh, Becky," Tobey sighed out her name, hearts in his eyes as he stepped closer. "You've just made me the happiest man alive."

"Yeah?" Becky ducked her head, trying to hide her own smile as she squeezed his hand back. "I feel pretty happy right now, too."

[valyrra]

Heyyo, could I request a Kay/o x reader? Where the reader ended a friendship bitterly, because their friend was kinda of a dick? And like they're hurting, and is feeling really down. Even to the point where they consider to crawl back and say 'hey let's fix this' but is so done with that shit, cause they always do that with people who treats them like crap. And Kay/o comforts them or something, and tries to cheer them up?

Could Kay/o and the reader also have an established relationship? :)

Thank you, I'm sorry if it's too much..

Haiii. Thank you SO MUCH for requesting this. I'm not kidding I'm living through the same problems right now it was crazy your request pops up with Kay/o even!! I hope you will go through it and everything will settle happily. Hope my little silly fic will make you a bit better.

💙KAY/O x reader (established relationship)💙

You were sitting on the couch in the smaller kitchen in the Valorant headquarters. The sadness of the recent problems were overwhelming. Your friendship with a person, that wasn't very sensitive to you - ended bitterly. But instead of feeling free - you were feeling down. Why? Only you could know. Maybe sometimes you felt like it's your own fault. Maybe you don't like the thought that the friendship could be fixed but it didn't? You were afraid you could get back to the person who made you feel like shit, yet still you considered the thought you could be friends again and everything would be the same again. Your thoughts were stopped by a short:

- Y/N, Are you okay? - from a too similar deep but still melodic, robotic voice. You never stopped being fascinated by it. He was an AI more than a robot, but still had a bigger heart than most of the people you knew. And every emotion was clearly heard in the timbre or his voice.

- Hm? Yeah.. sorry, dear, I... - You couldn't finish a sentence.

- Let me take a guess. It's them again. /Y/Friend/N? Should I take the lead here? Y/N command me and I will deal with them. - KAY/O sounded irritated.

- No, please, Kay, just talk to me. I'm so confused. We... have ended our friendship, but..

- I don't want to hear any "but"'s. - Robot came up closer to the couch you've been sitting on and got down on one knee.

You didn't know if he did it on purpose or not. But you laughed a bit on a "butts" pun. KAY/O still somehow were seen unsatisfied. You looked at his visor. The signs on it were confused with "❔"and ready to kill "🗡️". He put his hands on your knees and you couldn't help but smile at him. He had a deep understanding of people, you called it "intuition". He called it a program. KAY/O never liked Y/F/N even by the mood you were in after spending time with them. He could tell that something isn't right. But there he was. Your knight in shining armour. He was ready to protect you anytime.

- You should end it, Y/N. - he said softly now. Seeing your smile gave him reassurance in himself. He stated something he had wanted to say a long time ago.

- You are probably right, babe. - you leaned to him and placed the right hand on the side of his visor. You almost had a feeling like you could rub him like a cat.

- You know I'm higher than you on the rank, right? I could order you. - his definitions of orders were like unbreakable rules. You knew it because he literally couldn't disobey anything Brim said.

- Oh yes, sir, sorry sir! - you rolled your eyes and laughed. You put away right hand to make a soldier's salute.

- Ughh... Stop being sarcastic. I mean it, Y/N. Sometimes I'm sorry I CAN'T install an update into your little head so you stop befriending every wrong person.

- Guess from whom I've learned that sarcasm. - you smirked - But, yes. You are right...

- Y/N, they are not worth your time. Remember everything they've done wrong. Remember how badly they were treating you. Don't even think of trying to fix them and this friendship. - He sounded so sad it was heartbreaking.

- Kay....I'm sorry... - you put your hands on his. He squeezed your knees a bit.

- I care about you deeply. And you know it, Y/N. I don't want you to suffer from bad people. - he got up. - Do you want a tea? Hot chocolate milk? - he sounded a little aggressive even saying this it had cut you off guard.

You looked at him with round eyes - Chocolate milk please?... - you were watching his next moves.

- Why would I even ask... I know you from head to toe... - he had mumbled while turning to the kitchen and started to make you a drink.

You got up from the couch and silently went up to him. While he was occupied caring for you - you hugged him from behind. KAY/O growled but didn't self-defend. You were the one person on Earth who could do that and come out alive.

- Thank you... - you said into his massive shoulder blades. He never was too comfortable hugging but you loved him with all your heart. It made everything better even if you are hugging a robot. You never considered him to be a killer machine as some people do though. You thought of him as a defender. And he was a defender. Always at your side. All these thoughts have reassured you in the rightness of his words.

- Y/N don't thank me. I'm saying what I think. You really should be more mindful of the people who you call friends.

- It's good thing that you are my boyFRIEND - you tease him and hug him harder.

- Yes, now let go off me, Your drink is ready. - he didn't sound mean on purpose, he just didn't want to harm your bare skin from the displacement of his metal tubes and wires while he was turning around.

You hugged him a little longer and then let him go. He was so tall it's crazy. He turned to you and put a warm cup into your hands. - Do you... Maybe want to see me practice?

- Is that a date?? - you tease him more.

- You decide. - KAY/O says.

- Then it is, let's go. Thank you for the drink, babe. - You lean into him and he hunched for you to be on his level.

You placed a little smooch on his visor. A little "💙" had lighted up on it and you both strolled into the training room. The drink was perfect... As his accuracy.

[docnefarious]

"ME?! I ALREADY TOLD YOU! I'M WORKING!!" He whipped back around to glance at the controls that were blip-blip-blipping away at him, just waiting to be put into motion, then shot a deep glare back over his shoulder at her. "I could ask YOU the same question! What are YOU doing here?!"

But wait— that uniform. It seemed familiar. He'd seen it before, somewhere. Some press call to the public perhaps? Where did he know her from!!?! Well, it didn't matter right then. All that mattered was that he was being interrupted! And the villain could safely say that he was NOT in the mood. What an absolute and total pain. There always seemed to be someone getting in his way…

Well, he would just have to take care of that, wouldn't he?

Expression narrowing, the robotic villain fully turned away from the controls that were still flashing away, just moments from being fully activated—and glowered straight toward Talwyn, hands clenched into tight, shaking fists. He was sick of disruptions. And if this sorry excuse for an 'authority' insisted on sticking her nose into his business, then he would have to deal with her before she became a real problem...

His glower deepened towards her, and his mind went to the blaster he had with him. "I said I'M BUSY! How about a little privacy!? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE!?"

When Talwyn had been called to check out the suspicious activity going on in the sector, she had sincerely just expected wildlife meddling inside some old abandonned facility. Ever since Tahcyon's downfall, there were plenty of those lying around, causing all sorts of random trouble with local fauna.

What she didn't expect was some washed up supervillain from Solana cooped up in this hole.

"Wha--Nefarious?!" she cried out, her tone matching his in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 5)

I'm back on my bullshit. I decided I'd post these, once a day, four days a week. Then I'll go on breaks for the weekend to let interested readers catch up while also further writing more entries. At the time I'm posting this, for example, I'm in the process of analyzing Chapter 39. That way, it's easier for everyone to enjoy this essay. Which I hope people do.

Anyway, this can finally truly be called a ship essay, because one of our key players has FINALLY developed feelings! Going forward, Natsume's behavior will heavily feature his growing affections for Mikan. We'll be analyzing Natsume's self-preserving hesitation as well as his immediate instinct to give up any chance he has from the get-go.

Chapter Seventeen

Natsume next shows up to walk into Class B during a commotion of Mikan’s retelling of the Reo incident. The kids all gather around him now too to ask questions and press about his condition. One kid even asks if he should teach Mikan a lesson for bragging about his rescue. Mikan smiles at him, under the assumption that their shared trauma has brought them closer and maybe even made them friends, but Natsume’s response is to simply turn away and ignore her.

He’s still Natsume after all. This is the first girl he’s ever liked, and she used to be somebody he despised, so the change in feelings is probably very strange to him. He’s confused and possibly embarrassed. He doesn’t know what to say or how to act.

Can't have her getting any ideas that he's completely changed his mind about her or anything.

Most of the people that Natsume likes at the school (although that is just Ruka and Youichi… so… you know) know that he likes them. He spends time with them, is gentle with them, does things for them, and can openly say kind things to and about them. Mikan is different. He used to be her number one enemy, so all of a sudden switching gears and becoming her friend would be quite odd.

Over time, Natsume will find ways to be gentle and sweet to Mikan, but for now his crush is brand new and he doesn’t know how to act quite yet. He’d rather avoid her entirely, or pretend like nothing happened, than openly approach his new feelings.

Furthermore his behavior is always and under all circumstances inseparable from his status as Persona’s favorite and as the Black Cat. He may have some loved ones, but he keeps the number low and tries to avoid getting close to people for a reason. Naturally, nobody could ever really understand his experiences so there will always be a divide between him and the rest of his peers, but even more than that is that considering people precious turns them into targets.

Natsume has probably learned the hard way that displaying closeness and affection for his friends can have dangerous effects, so he might now think of showing that kind of affection as selfish or even cruel. Why subject somebody to something like that, merely because he has feelings for them? It’s not fair.

In either case, it’s really not that Natsume is naturally mean and cold. He just doesn’t trust his situation enough to properly act. It’s safer in every way to just pretend like nothing changed. It’s too much to deal with otherwise. But sooner rather than later, the hard thing will be staying away. Eventually, maintaining coldness with her will be almost impossible.

Chapter Eighteen

This chapter further touches on Natsume’s new-found crush and its consequences.

Class B is used to being in an environment where Natsume hates Mikan and is bothered by everything she does. He gives in to her slightly, in small ways, and it shocks his classmates. Now, it’s understandable that, even if he hadn’t developed a crush on her, he might still be softer to a girl who risked her life to save him, but it’s still odd.

Mikan recalls asking Natsume for help training her alice. She needs an offensive alice to nullify, so Iinchou or Hotaru’s would be ineffectual in training. Natsume is really the best person to ask, and, to everyone’s surprise, he actually agrees to help.

Natsume doesn't need any convincing to help her, but what did she think practicing with a fire alice would entail?

And yes it does seem like he’s only doing it to torture her, because his alice is capable of genuine bodily harm and his admirers snicker with amusement at his antics, but I can’t help but assume there’s more to it.

He doesn’t really hesitate to help. He doesn’t need convincing at all. In some ways I think he did genuinely want to help. Her alice helped save his life, after all. Why not repay the favor by using his alice to help her train? To him, there's a lot of value in her alice, so training it is beneficial in his perspective as well.

And later still, Mikan spots Natsume sitting amongst the principal students. He stands out, as an elementary student next to upperclassmen. This moment is a good introduction to the arc. His crush on Mikan only grows stronger as the festival goes on, but there’s something looming over him too--he’s different from the rest of them. He stands out so much during the festival. He’s a dangerous ability type who’s not allowed to participate while also being a principal who has to sit on the stage for the opening ceremony. That's horribly ironic, but also shows just how singled out and under the spotlight he is. It’s a huge part of why he acts the way he does, so cold and mean and distant despite his growing affections. It’s all he can do.

He may see potential for a future, but he’d be foolish to think he should be able to acquire it, because his current circumstances have not changed at all.

The chapter ends with Natsume being asked by Koko if he wants to try out the special ability class event. He’s looking towards the special ability area, and we can tell the next chapter will be fun.

Chapter Nineteen

And how!

Natsume is here to see Ruka, his best friend, but he’s also here to catch a glimpse of the girl he has a crush on.

Sumire is also there, and it’s interesting to see that Natsume hasn’t changed in his attitude around her either, even though she also helped save him. She tries to embrace him and he dodges her.

This catches some people’s attention and they start to whisper about his presence.

In the anime, this moment is a bit more potent, hearing the murmurs and seeing a darkness over the gossiping kids, but the manga still establishes that the people waiting in line are by-and-large unhappy to see him. They whisper amongst themselves, rudely asking why he’d bother to come here, but that gloom only lasts for a moment (one singular panel and then Natsume’s responding bitterness) before Mikan appears jumping over the wall, calling his name and even smiling.

It’s almost like she was waiting for him to show up, running off from her post the second she heard Natsume was there. The dark looming screentones are replaced with flowery ones, and it’s hard not to think of this as his perspective: all is gloomy and then there is Mikan. All of a sudden, after hating her for so long, he thinks of her as bright sunshine, and he must have showed up just to see her and feel nice for a change.

It's Natsume seeing Mikan through floral-filter lenses for me...

Of course, he ruins the mood. It feels almost as if he does it solely because he knows it will upset her. She was so excited to see him, and he manages to completely turn her mood from eager to angry, just the opposite of how she was able to unwittingly turn his mood from gloomy to... as close to content as he can get.

He’s okay now. He doesn’t want her getting any ideas.

Now, in my opinion, his method of bothering her could be anything and the plot would remain the same. What matters is that he wants to piss her off, and this just so happens to be the way he does it, partially because it’s intended to be funny. Mikan has to get angry at him for this chapter to progress the way it does, but his actions could have been replaced by any other irritating action and it could’ve gone the same way.

Tsubasa then appears, drawn to the sound of a loud commotion. He sees Natsume and vaguely wonders why he’s there. Everyone knows Natsume, at all grade levels, because he’s famous. For Tsubasa, whose only real knowledge of Mikan’s relationship with the kid is that he causes trouble in Class B, it would be strange to see him at the RPG.

Natsume, meanwhile, has no idea who Tsubasa is. Seeing Mikan crawl all over her senpai, seeing him easily comfort her, is something that bugs Natsume. He glares at Tsubasa, somebody whose name he doesn’t even know, and then starts leaving with Ruka.

At first, Tsubasa is confused to be treated like this, until he hugs Mikan tighter and sees both Natsume and Ruka turn in jealousy. Tsubasa gets it immediately. Thus begins a strange and tumultuous frenemy relationship between Tsubasa and Natsume, where they both begrudgingly understand each other while also irritating each other beyond belief.

Natsume is not interested in playing the game, insulting it and wondering how anyone could get hooked on it. Ultimately, it’s not even Mikan who convinces him to give it a shot; it’s Tsubasa taunting him, “then you should be able to win, no problem, right?”

Tsubasa will come to regret saying this, because the answer is yes.

The RPG is designed to be tough. Nobody has won the whole game yet. Beating one or two students is one thing, but being able to outsmart or outmaneuver the entire special ability class is a difficult feat.

Natsume agrees to play, and gets a robot cockroach as a weapon.

Tsubasa is hugging Mikan as Natsume is about to enter, and that pisses him off even more. He decides that Tsubasa will be his slave, his motive being get your hands off her. This is silly considering that just a short time ago, Natsume hated Mikan. His feelings really did a 180.

The challenges pick up in difficulty as he goes on. The first one is effortless. He doesn’t even move from where he’s standing. The mirror-alice girl just freaks out about the cockroach and sends him on his way after two seconds.

The next one is trickier, and Natsume will need to put in more effort than just standing and waiting for the cockroach to do its job. But not that much effort. He sits next to Megane, lights a fire, and waits. It’s a scorching flame, and although Megane tries to tough it out, he gives in with two seconds to spare. Natsume, a smartass, quips sarcastically that he’s sorry--he really can’t tell how hot it is. (This is not actually important or anything, it’s just interesting that Natsume is not affected by his own flames and can’t feel the heat of them. I might end up referring to this a couple times.)

With the exception of the first and last challenges, Natsume uses his alice to beat the maze; either by heating Megane up so his soul goes back into his body, or by writing with fire instead of chalk. The next challenge is the one Natsume has been waiting for and he’ll use his alice here too.

Tsubasa is shocked to find Natsume has progressed so quickly, but he proceeds with the challenge: Natsume has to touch him in thirty seconds, but it’ll be tricky ‘cause he’s held in place by his shadows. He toys with Natsume’s shadows a bit, which really pisses Natsume off. Tsubasa even apologizes nervously, even though he’s the one in control. Or he is, until Natsume uses his alice again and gets rid of the shadows.

Natsume’s anger towards Tsubasa all stems from jealousy. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging and comforting Mikan, it’s that he can. Natsume needs to distance himself from Mikan in order to keep her safe, and he’s aware of that right from the start, but there’s more to it. He’s busy establishing himself as an enemy to Mikan, doing things to bother her to make her angry with him, but nobody rushes to their bully for comfort, and Natsume knows this. It’s not just that Tsubasa was hugging Mikan; it’s that he feels like he will never get the chance.

And so the next and final challenge is where he gets to be selfish.

Mikan is aggravated to see him, obviously not thrilled that he was able to make it in such a short time. Her task is that he has to get her off the carpet in thirty seconds. He can’t hurt her or force her off the carpet, and because of their alice training together, he can’t use his alice on her either. (They’d apparently practiced so much that she was able to sharpen her skills significantly. Before, her alice was a wildcard and she struggled with using it, but now she’s able to use it with relative ease. That’s a lot of training in a short time, and I’m sure Natsume wasn’t upset at all the time they had to spend together as a result.)

Natsume must feel relief regarding Mikan's nullification alice. She's nullified his alice in pretty big ways already, one time to save his life. The girl he's crushing on is capable of turning off the thing that decreases his lifespan. She really is a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one, and his appreciation for her alice, even if he doesn't voice it, will only grow. This is important, but I'll talk way more about this in the other POV.

He tries the cockroach, but she’s a country girl and unaffected.

Natsume is genuinely stumped by her challenge, admitting to himself that it’s a tough one. He then comes up with a risky idea, no doubt influenced by her rescue of him when they were kidnapped by Reo. He plays sick. This act only works if Mikan falls for it and is concerned enough to jump off the carpet, but he’s a good actor on account of all the sick experience he has and she does fall for it in no time. Her being concerned was a given.

She jumps off, meaning he’s won the game, but that’s not enough of a victory for him. He acts sick until she’s closer, so he can grab her and put his arm around her. Yes, he calls her an idiot, but this is the closest he can get to a hug… for now. It doesn’t matter that she’s annoyed and dismayed that he won. All he cares about is that he got to touch her.

She jumped down. He won already, but it's not enough! (Also sorry about two pictures. If it ruins the format, oh well.)

Natsume was jealous that Tsubasa got to do something he thinks he'll never be able to, and so he got a taste of what he wanted some other, convoluted way. He gets angry that Tsubasa is so touchy, but that's only because he wishes he could be touchy too. Natsume will get bolder and bolder with his physical affection, because he will want more and more to show it. When he starts being honest about this affection, she will be more eager to return it.

Natsume is the first winner, and Tsubasa admits it was never expected for somebody to be able to pass all the challenges. Part of the appeal is that it’s an unbeatable game, but Natsume’s feelings of jealousy and spite were enough to get him over the finish line. Though perhaps knowing it's beatable but only one person could is also appealing. It's possible to pass, but very rare for somebody to be able to, so they can draw in crowds by capitalizing on kids who want to the next person to beat the game.

He gets to choose a lamp, but he has no idea which one is whose. He cheats by asking Koko to tell him which one is the right one, but he ends up picking Mikan’s, because Koko assumed that’s the one he wanted. After all--Natsume was thinking about her. Natsume is lucky that Mikan was too anguished at being a slave to care about Natsume thinking about her, but it’s interesting to know that even when he’s supposed to be angry at Tsubasa, he was only thinking of Mikan.

Chapter Twenty

This chapter’s premise is pretty simple and light: Natsume can’t think of any use for Mikan other than to follow him and Ruka around the festival and carry their stuff. They navigate the technical ability class area and even encounter Hotaru, though only for a short time because she’s quite busy.

Most importantly, their time in the technical area makes Mikan insecure. Everyone in the tech class seems to know what they want to do with their lives, with their alices being perfect for research or creation. I’ll go into more detail with this during Mikan’s essay, but it’s important to note that Mikan asks the people around her if they’re prepared for their future only to see that they all are. Hotaru, Sumire, and even Ruka all have dreams for the future, even if Ruka won’t share his. Natsume has decided to leave the conversation and we don’t hear what his dream is, which makes sense because he doesn’t have one. Natsume doesn’t think he’ll live long enough to graduate, so why even bother wasting his own time and getting his hopes up for something unattainable?

It’s then revealed that Ruka is also a triple, and Mikan can’t tell, but the mood has been soured for Ruka. His triple-star status is a touchy subject that he’s unhappy with. His star rank is representative of Natsume’s suffering and he doesn’t like talking about it. He only says that he didn’t mention it because he didn’t get it on his own talent or effort before Natsume forces Mikan to walk in another direction, claiming to be hungry.

This is literally just a scan of the TokyoPop version, which is better than the other version I see floating around.

He can tell Ruka is uncomfortable and is ready to step in so that his friend can feel better.

As a result, they end up at the cafe where Anna is working (after all, Mikan has been perfecting her puppy-dog eyes routine and I think both Ruka and Natsume are affected, even if the latter would never admit it).

Natsume takes the first bite of Anna’s hell pie, just to see a rot demon (or whatever that thing is) taunt him about the trouble his stomach will be in soon. He really doesn’t have a choice but to throw the tea over the pie. Ruka is grateful, but Mikan is outraged at how rude Natsume is acting, and even angrier when Natsume explains that the pie was horrible. She demands he apologize but Natsume simply walks away, content to be the bad guy because he saved his friends from getting food poisoning while also sparing Anna’s feelings and reputation at her cafe.

"Your stomach will writhe" is such a potent threat. I feel sick just looking at that demon/scoundrel/rot thing.

This scene has more substance than in the anime. In the episode, Natsume sees the rotten scoundrel (or WHATEVER IT IS) before he can take a bite. He tosses the tea for all their sakes and ultimately nobody is hurt. But here, in the manga, Natsume has already taken a bite. We see the missing part of the pie, the residue on the fork. Natsume is already screwed. He's going to have food poisoning from Anna's pie, and he still puts her feelings before his own. He'd rather say that the pie is terrible according to his own tastes than to let everyone around know that she made such a health-risking mistake. He drenches the pie so that Mikan and Ruka don't get food poisoning, even if it's too late for him. Natsume leaves, knowing he will look like an asshole, AND with stomach problems on top of that, but at least he's the only one who will be seriously hurt.

This is a pretty insignificant example of a trait that we have seen before with Natsume but haven't really fully explored. It's going to play a major role for the rest of the manga, because Natsume has something of a martyr complex, where he is quick to sacrifice himself because he sees little to no value in his own happiness. This is a small example, and I'm not saying it's not kind of him, but there are consequences with his line of thinking. He's fine with looking like an asshole to protect people, or giving up things he wants so someone else can have it, or blowing himself up so two girls can escape safely. Whenever there's a chance to sacrifice himself, Natsume will take it every single time.

This may seem noble or romantic or admirable but it's not healthy at all. The way he was raised (no shade to Papa Hyuuga and Kaoru but also.... tentatively side-eyeing them for putting so much responsibility on him) and the way he is now tortured by the school has put him in a position where his self esteem is horribly low. This complex of his results in suicidal tendencies, even after he falls in love with Mikan (and even exacerbated by that love). For Natsume, love is sacrifice. He simply cannot love without feeling like he has to give something up. Ideally, he would grow out of this and maybe start seriously choosing himself sometimes. It's not evil to want yourself to be happy and to choose your own well-being, even if it occasionally makes others sad or upset.

In the context of the actual story though, we have yet another glimpse of a complex that will cause a LOT of trouble down the road for Natsume and Mikan.

Conclusion

Natsume has new feelings for Mikan and is having trouble navigating them. They will cause even more trouble in the next essay. We also touched more on Natsume's self-sacrificing tendencies and how devastating they will turn out to be. These tendencies will be consistent and persistent throughout the manga in regards to NatsuMikan's relationship, and cause more problems. These problems will pop up a bit in the next part, so stay tuned!

Also, small note: I call him Ruka and not Luca because I got used to it after watching the anime and through scans and fanfics. I heard his name pronounced that way and at first thought it was a Japanese name so I simply copied the pronunciation. When I found out it was supposed to be Luca, I'd already been using Ruka for a while. I don't really want to switch to using Luca most of the time because I know people in real life named Luca/Luka and I talk enough about GA on the daily where it might feel strange to me. I use Luca sometimes when I'm talking to others who prefer it, but Ruka is what I'm used to. I hope this isn't frustrating, but understand that I pronounce Killua's name (from HxH) like "Ki-ru-a" as well and in my head "Gakuen Alice" is pronounced "Gakuen Arisu" because I pronounce things based on what I hear when watching the anime ;-; These are things I have no real desire to change because they sound right to me. I'm sorry. (Nobody has said anything or complained, and this is not a vague or anything like that! I just wanted to say that I know it's supposed to be Luca and it's not my intention to be disrespectful when I pronounce/spell it Ruka. I am fucking crazy, but I am free.)

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[goldenlaquer]

Hey, can I ask for some headcanons, please? For Gin, Toshi, Sougo and Kamui. About how they were in a fight, separated from their so and something happened like an exposion or whatever, anyway the main point is that they thought that their so have died but later they see her alive and relatively unharmed. So the headcanons of them when they thought they lost their so and when they see that she is ok. Sorry, this is so specific and long, I'm just a slut for some angst and I love your writings

Thank you for the support and sorry for the wait! I don’t know if I’m that much good at conveying angst but let’s bring on the feels! 

Gintama Headcanons: 

Hijikata Toushirou: 

Hijikata stands on top of a pile of rubble, and surveys the destruction around him. 

His hands don’t shake. His feet are firm against the ground. His shoulders are straight and rigid against the fleeting wind. Smoke escapes him in steady stream, and when he inhales in, the dust and fire of the air sticks to the walls of his lungs like sludge. 

To the men who stop to look at their vice-commander with their ugly concerns plastered on their ugly mugs: He’s fine. 

To the Gorilla who can’t stop asking him the question every ten minutes and that, he really should take a break or else at this rate, he’ll collapse: He’s fine. 

To the brat who stubbornly stays by his side like spit-up gum on the sole of his shoe: He’s fine, damn it, so go do your job and leave him alone. 

For once, Sougo doesn’t have anything clever to quip back at him. He doesn’t need to-- the silence between them speaks better than words. And Hijikata hates what it says, so he turns back to the grey landscape, eyes darting and sifting through the mangled and charred parts to see something, anything that is you. 

Nothing. 

He reaches for a cigarette, pulls it out of his pocket like second nature. The lighter is the trickier to work. The blasted thing refuses to flicker on. Oh, the cigarette falls down. Hijikata bends to pick it up. He tries again. The cigarette falls down. He stares at it. His shoe crushes it. He’s stomping down hard. Sougo is still silent, watching. Hijikata doesn’t care. 

The facade of normalcy is gone. Here he is: Taking his frustrations out on a sad little cig, like it’s the cause of all his fucking problems, like it’s going to bring you back. Harsh pants come out of his mouth, and in another series, they’d sound like something akin to sobs, but his face is dry.

“Hijikata.” He ignores Sougo. The cigarette is reduced to paper and dry leaves scuffed against concrete. “Hijikata.” He doesn’t answer.

Okita, with an eye-roll, kicks Hijikata square in the back and knocks him off the pile. 

Sougo, what the fuck? He. Is. Mourning. Hijikata has always known Sougo to be insensitive, but this is blatantly crossing several lines and he clearly doesn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with. 

But if it’s a fight that bastard wants, Hijikata will give it to him. He leaps up from the ground, ready to hand Sougo an express ticket to hell, misty eyes narrowing in anger as he looks up

and the breath is knocked out of him in a way that years of chain-smoking had miraculously failed to do 

Standing before him, white particles clinging to your clothes, hair, and eyebrows, is the damn most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. The feet move faster than he can process, and by the time his arms are around you and he’s breathing in the scent he thought he’d lost forever

“Fuck.” Because that’s the only appropriate response he can say without his voice cracking. “Don’t do that again.”

Kamui:

Loss is not a new thing. It was in the labored rise and fall of his mother’s chest, the pallidness of her white skin. The feel of his sister’s small hands, fisting in his clothes and pleadingly tugging back, her blue eyes wide and wet. It was in the looming shape of his father’s retreating back.

But there were other, worthier things to focus on. The pain in his knuckles slamming against bone and muscle. The taut stretch of his lips as he licks his wounds, tasting metal and victory. The title of ‘Universe’s Strongest’ nearly within his grasp. He didn’t have time for the weak. Didn’t have time to be weak.

Loss is not new, and yet there is something about this loss. Now, Loss is a sentient being, latching to his throat and squeezing as he grapples through the mud.

Abuto’s face is too blank and too careful. His voice is low and calm and reasoning, and he is saying things, but Kamui doesn’t listen. The words ‘she’ and ‘gone’ don’t mix, they don’t make any sense, so why should he listen? He digs and digs and digs, not hearing, he can’t, his ears and eyes are filled with the same muddy brown that must also be filling yours. Kamui works even faster, his nails splintering against the rocks embedded in the wet ground.

Hair released from its braid, trussed and caked in dirt. Pupils dilated, black swallowing blue. His face abnormally slack as he claws in frenzy, in desperation at the ground like a wild animal.

There are few things in this world Kamui can’t fight. No matter his strength, one cannot simply beat Mother Nature into submission. But there is no excuse. If he cannot save one woman from something as stupid as dirt, then what is the point? What use is his strength? He didn’t leave that tiny, rainy planet, ignoring all the things left behind with it, to become this weakling who couldn’t even manage to keep you by his side like he promised.

He’s a young brat again, helplessness coloring every pore. A damsel in distress. Someone who can’t save, but needs saving. He is no different than the baldy. Unable to keep promises. Unable to protect. Unable to do anything. Was he always this fragile? Pathetic.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic. The word is a punishing mantra in his mind.

Something crashes into him. It’s not near enough to make him pause in his digging, but the something is tugging on his clothes. Incoherent, muffled shouting in his ears. He doesn’t pay it any mind because mud keeps slipping back in place despite all his useless strength and you’re still trapped, waiting for him--

“KAMUI!”

He blinks in surprise, snapping from the heavy cloud covering his mind. He’s flat on the ground, staring up at you. How he got there, he doesn’t know, but you are here in front of him, covered head-to-toe in mud and crying.

He is silent, watching as you blubber concerns and curses. A curious hand reaches out to your face in wonder, carefully tracing the path that a salty tear had made down your cheek. The familiarity of your soft skin warms his numb body and a small smile emerges from his lips.

As you sit on top of him, crying not because you are scared but because he’s such a stupid idiot, he realizes that that he isn’t all alone just yet, that there’s one thing that refuses to leave him. 

Okita Sougo: 

It’s happening again. And it honestly makes him want to laugh. 

He doesn’t believe in it, karma, but when you think that you’ve gotten used to the pain of losing someone you love, his rotten, black heart has to go and get ripped out for the second time as if he forgot, as if he needed reminding that there’s no way someone like him deserves something as good as happiness. There’s no other explanation to this shit luck other than that, for the accumulation of every filthy deed he’s done with his filthy hands and every fucking sin he has committed once and twice and will most definitely commit thrice, someone has to pay for it. 

And because Karma is two bitches and a half, that someone wasn’t him. 

There it is. The laughter finally comes out as he looks at the torn fabric in his clenched fist. It comes out harsh and hollow and, if you listened hard enough, choked, but who’s checking? Not him. Not Mitsuba. And certainly not you. 

He reported it to the vice-commander himself, voice robotic, telling how he was walking front of you when it happened, how the enemy somehow managed to predict your movements and ambushed the both of you on a bridge, how he had been unable to react in time to stop the silver flash of a knife and how the world tilted, too fast and too slow, and that there was a piece of hanging rope that he managed to snag on to with one hand and when he blindly flashed out the other to grasp at you, reaching through free air and snatching at cloth, it ripped from his fingers, and you fell to the chasm below.  Deep enough, Okita said as he looked straight into Hijikata’s eyes, that death would be quick and painless.

If nothing else could go right for him, then at least for this, he hoped, even fucking prayed, that it was painless.

Hijikata doesn’t react to the report with anything unnecessary, just a stiff upper lip and an “okay” before he walks off to stand somewhere far enough, yet close enough. For all their differences, Hijikata knows. He understands losing youthful love, and that the pity that comes with it is nothing more than steaming trash. In this way and other ways that he’d sooner eat shit than to admit aloud, Okita is grateful for him.  

He stops mid mirthless chuckle to shove the hand holding what’s left of  you up to his eyes, slanting his head downwards so his bangs cover what he doesn’t want the world to know what he’s somehow still capable of. Hijikata is tactfully looking away. Over the distance, Kondo is bellowing orders to his men who keep a wide berth from the spot where their 1st Division Captain stands. This is the only opportunity he can afford to be an eighteen year old again. Sougo swallows thickly, feeling the roughness of fabric dampen against his eyelids. 

Acutely, he hears the sound of footsteps. It is slow and steady and he thinks that they belong Kondo at first but the weight of them is too light for a gorilla. Before he can process this information further, the steps halt for several long seconds before starting again, this time faster and more urgent, lurching in his direction. Hijikata mutters an astounded “shit” but  for whatever reason doesn’t move to intercept. Okita really isn’t in the mood to deal with dumbasses but the sword by his side is already unsheathed and he’s aiming his red eyes to glare at whoever the fuck--

Arms wrap around his waist. A face burrows into his chest. His knees almost give out, but his name is Okita Sougo and he has already maxed out his whiny bitch points for the next decade. Instead, he drops his sword to cup the back of your very-much-alive head, caressing the wet silk of it before threading his trembling fingers through the strands to

sharply tug you from his chest and grasp your cheeks with one hand, squeezing your expression to that of a startled fish. 

“Now,” Okita murmers, the smirk on his lips at odds with how fucking great it feels to see you again. “What should I do with you?”

Sakata Gintoki:

Before they say anything, he knows. 

He has seen that type of expression too many times to ever forget the set jaw, the horrible attempt at stilling a trembling bottom lip, the unshed tears of eyes that can’t seem to stop roving, unable to face the recipient of bad news for more than half a second, and the pallidness of knuckles straining against skin, holding onto their clothes like a lifeline. 

He knows this expression so well he can gaze down at Shinpachi and Kagura with well-placed apathy, perfectly appearing as if his lungs aren’t threatening to collapse on itself when he notices who is not there with them, and tell them in his same old way to stop sucking on their teeth and finish what they can’t seem to get out because he has an appointment at the pachinko parlor at four and if they don’t finish up this job by three-thirty he is going to dock their nonexistent pay by 80%. It hides the rising nausea and stone weight of the stomach well. 

This time, however, his casual rudeness doesn’t make them react the way he wants them to, it only makes them fold into themselves even further. 

The thing is, no matter how many times you see it and know better than to entertain it, there’s always this one glimmer of hope, so ridiculously strong that you’d gladly pray to anyone and everyone, even if you don’t really believe, because if anything is possible then it better be possible that this isn’t bad news, or that even if it is bad news then the worst of the pinched expression is just a by-product of eating food gone bad or the pain of an ingrown toenail, that it isn’t about someone dying or dead. 

But life rarely goes like that, and Gintoki lives in an extra-shittier life compared to most people. 

When you stumble across them, hair singed and smelling of gunpowder and smoke, there is something so thick and so wrong with the air, something that makes you stop from crying out in elation at seeing the people you love most. Shinpachi is fastidiously rubbing his eyes and Kagura has her face buried against Sadaharu’s fur and Gintoki

Gintoki looks alone. And you don’t think you have ever seen him look like that, so withdrawn into himself that even if he is surrounded by people, there’s nothing that can come close to him, nothing that can ease the dull bleakness of his eyes and the defeated hunch of his shoulders. He looks like a single thread worn too thin, on the verge of snapping. He looks like nothing matters anymore. Nothing. 

You dislike it. You hate it. You hate it so much, to see this man turn into something so unfamiliar and terrifying and gut out. You don’t know this Gintoki. You want the other one back, the one who wouldn’t hesitate to smear dog shit and boogers on the back of your jacket and the one who doesn’t really mind it when you take a sip of his spoiled strawberry milk. 

So when you shout out loudly, so loud that vibrates the space, that you’re here and alive and that you didn’t, couldn’t die because how could such a measly explosion off you when there were idiots waiting back home for you, to see Kagura and Shinpachi fly to you, screaming and whooping as they open their arms wide for your hug, snot running down their noses, and Gintoki snap his head up, disbelieving at first, yet searching your form with a speck of hope that brings life back to his dead eyes, and when he finds whatever he was searching for, he goes to you on steady feet, folding his arms around the group, gaze still drinking your form up as he leans across Shinpachi’s and Kagura’s heads to bump his forehead against yours, his breath sighing out something like relief-- it almost makes you cry, or maybe it does because you can feel something wet trailing down your face.

Gintoki is silent for the most part, because Kagura and Shinpachi are doing most of the talking for him, but when he does speak, it is to say: 

“Damn, there goes the life insurance money.” 

[delvalentine]

Hello! Can I have a romantic matchup for tears of themis please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child.

Thank you!

vyn richter

vyn has an ambiguous moral compass that would allow the two of you to be more compatible than with the others who are more goody two-shoes type. he has an extensive understanding of the human psyche and doesn't need you to explain yourself; he just gets you.

he finds your dream log fascinating, and also respects that you don't fear nightmares. often times the two of you might get together for tea and discuss the meanings, having actual conversations instead of just "how are you" "good" and letting it die there.

vyn is an academic and would welcome debate with you. instead of getting hostile or making it seem like fighting, the debates would be properly intellectual. he would quietly try to motivate you as well, perhaps baking your favourite treat, and being cruel enough to withhold them until you get something done. in turn, he needs to you balance out his seriousness, introducing him to new standards of life he dismissed earlier.

[smegdwarf]

But Who Could Love Me? (Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 8

A/N: 👀

Warnings: Erm mostly fluff, some implied stuff 😏 also a little arguing!

Summary: Basically giving Rimmer the love his deserves :P

Even though Rimmer was always changing its hiding place you knew where the holo disc was after all you did know him better than anyone else.

“How did you know where I hid it?” Rimmer was stunned as you started unscrewing the cover of the air vent he’d hidden the disc in.

“I know you too well Arnie” You smiled as you pulled off the cover to reveal an empty vent “It’s not there?”

“What? It has to be? That’s where I put it?” Rimmer crouched down beside you to look in the vent “...Kryten!!”

“What about him?” You asked as you started putting the vent cover back.

“That bloody bogbot must’ve cleaned the vents” Rimmer shook his head.

“But don’t the vents self clean?” You asked.

“This is Kryten we’re talking about” Rimmer smiled.

“Touché” You replied as you stood up “Let’s go find him see if he knows”

After traipsing round the ship for what felt like hours, not surprising given it’s the size of a city, you finally found the mechanoid, happily humming away while mopping the medi bay floor.

“Hey Krytes you wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of a certain holo disc would?” You asked sitting down on the bed as Rimmer followed.

“Surely one Mr Rimmer is enough ma’am?” Kryten asked earning a grumble from the hologram next you.

“She means Kochanski’s disc” Rimmer groaned glaring at the mechanoid who hadn’t even thought about stopping what he was doing.

“I haven’t seen it sir, why?” Kryten asked finally coming to a stop.

“Yeah why?” Rimmer looked at you, realizing he never actually asked why you wanted the disc.

“Well Lister is quite obviously depressed and missing Kochanski” You explained.

“Well that’s nothing new” Rimmer scoffed.

“That might be true but I don’t think him seeing us together is helping” You replied as Kryten nodded in agreement.

“It’s true, you too are like a couple of lovesick teenagers, always giggling and kissing each other” Kryten complained, he may not have grasped all the human emotions but even he was getting fed up with you and Rimmer ...not that that was going to stop either of you.

“Hey I can’t help it, he’s just so loveable!” You grinned, gently placing your hand under Rimmer’s chin and placing a kiss to his cheek as he smiled.

“Ma’am please” Kryten shuddered, his neck disappearing into his suit like a turtle hiding in its shell.

“So if it’s not in the vent and Kryten hasn’t seen where is it?” You asked, looking at Rimmer.

In a matter of minutes every scutter on the dwarf was now lined up in-front of you, Rimmer and Kryten in the medi bay, Rimmer almost buzzing through the roof at leading his own little robot army.

“Right you lot!” He commanded as he paced back and forth “We’ve got a task for you! For some reason Y/N wants Lister to be happy! ...Ow!”

Rimmer jumped as you pinched him while Kryten tried not to let the laugh he was holding back escape.

“As I was saying before Y/N so rudely pinched me...” Rimmer shot a playful glare at you.

“Don’t make me do it again!” You warned him with a smile.

“We want you to search the entire ship for Miss Kristine Kochanski’s holo disc ...apparently Lister’s happiness matters now ...Ow! Alright I’ll stop” Rimmer chuckled as you pinched him again as the scutters set off on their mission.

“Good one ma’am” Kryten commended you with a nod.

“Thanks Krytes” You smirked at Rimmer as he pretended to sulk.

“Y’know ma’am I could see if Miss Kochanski updated her personality file before the radiation leak happened?” Kryten suggested “Just in case we can’t find the holo disc?”

“Kryten you’re a genius! ...personality files, why didn’t I think of that?” You smiled as you sat with Kryten at the computer monitor.

“Hey?” Rimmer made himself known as yours and Krytens eyes shot up from the screen.

“Everything ok?” You looked at him as he pouted “Tell you what, why don’t Arnold and I go check the holosuite?”

“Good idea ma’am” Kryten agreed knowing full well Rimmer just wanted your attention.

“Arnold?” Rimmer looked at you with an eyebrow raised, you very rarely called him anything but Arnie.

“Come on you!” You laughed as you pulled on Rimmer’s hand to take him out of the room “You’re a smeghead you know that?”

“Oh I know!” Rimmer chuckled in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist as you tried to walk.

“Now which way was the holo suite?” You pondered.

“We’re not really going there are we?” Rimmer groaned as you reached the lift at the end of the corridor.

“Do I really need to answer that?” You smiled as you gently pushed him into the lift “Let’s go!”

“Oooohhh” Rimmer sulked as you told the lift where you needed to go.

Finally reaching the hologram projection suite it had occurred to you that you had never actually been inside it, this was the room that was essentially keeping you and Rimmer ‘alive’. Flashing lights and monitors everywhere alongside a huge metal cabinet which you could only assume contained the Red Dwarf crew holo discs.

“Annnnd it’s locked ...let’s go” Rimmer was almost estatic that the cabinet was locked.

“Well is there a key?” You asked.

“I’ve never seen one and I would’ve thought Kryten would have mentioned it before we left the medi bay” Rimmer replied “Let’s go?”

“Ah ah not so fast!” You smiled as you pulled a hair pin from your pocket and a paper clip from a file on the desk.

“What are you doing?” Rimmer looked at you confused as you straightened out the pin and the clip “Are you going to try and pick the lock?”

“Not just try honey!” You grinned as the lock came undone and dropped to the floor “I would’ve thought someone like you would be a lot more prepared”

“Well this is normally Kryten or Listers area of expertise” Rimmer shrugged “My god it’s a mess!”

“Well let’s get started then” You smiled handing Rimmer as stack of discs.

An hour or so later and every surface of the holo suite was covered in discs, in stacks that were organized alphabetically by Rimmer.

“See I knew you find interest somewhere” You looked over at Rimmer who had sat down with his feet up on the table and his arms crossed across his chest.

“What do you mean?” Rimmer asked as you started putting the discs back in the cabinet in their new order.

“I have noticed the alphabetical order Arnie” You smiled “No Kochanski though?”

“You know if the scutters do find this disc and we give it to Lister, Cat will start complaining?” Rimmer mumbled.

“Yeah I know but there was only one other option and you’d lose your mind” You spoke calmly.

“And that is?” Rimmer sat up properly.

“Well I could let Lister take me on a date” Rimmer’s  face started to turn red “One date!”

“No, absolutely not, no way” Rimmer snapped “I’m not letting him borrow my girlfriend”

“Ah so I am your girlfriend then?” You grinned as you walked over to him.

“Well I thought it was kind of obvious” Rimmer’s lips started to curl as you stood behind him.

“I know but I’ve never actually heard you say it, what’s going on with you anyway?” You spoke softly as you wrapped your arms around him “Is someone sulking because they’re not getting my attention?”

“A little bit yeah” Rimmer tried to keep a straight face as he looked up at you but with you stood behind him talking ever so sweetly in his ear he found it difficult.

“I also know you’re not too happy about helping Lister out when he stole your chance to tell everyone about us?” You continued to speak softly in his ear before placing a kiss to his cheek “May I remind you that even though it didn’t go the way you had hoped they’re still jealous ...isn’t that kind of what you wanted?”

“I guess yeah” Rimmer smiled as you walked round to stand in front of him.

“Anything I can do to cheer you up?” You asked as a devilish grin took over his face “Except that ...not here anyway”

“Ah damn” Rimmer had the devil in his eyes as you sat down on his lap, his arms instantly wrapped round you. In one swift action he could’ve had every disc and file off the desk and on the floor and have his way but he knew you’d tell him off.

“Maybe later though” You whispered in his ear as he chuckled leaning into kiss you as someone else cleared their throat.

“Gross!” It was Cat! Leaving as soon as he appeared.

“Hey look we’re three for three now” You smiled as Rimmer laughed burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Come on let’s get this cleared up” Rimmer looked over at the endless piles of discs.

"I hope the scutters do find the disc" You sighed as you stood up.

"Why? Why are you so interested in Listers happiness anyway?" Rimmer grumbled, his good mood abruptly coming to its end.

"He's my friend?" You replied trying not to take Rimmers tone of voice personally.

"He's a goit!" Rimmer spat, his eyes locked on the discs he was placing back in the cabinet.

"Look I understand your still upset but I'm not going to put up with this every time my attention is focused on someone else" You were starting to get a little annoyed, you knew Rimmer was complex, that he needed reassurance and that this was always going to be a problem but it didn't mean it didn't upset you.

"You won't find that disc!" Rimmers voice dropped so much it could barely be heard.

"What?" You looked at him as he looked at the floor.

"You wont find that disc!" He spoke up still refusing to look at you as the guilt took over.

"What do you mean? Arnie what have you done with it?" You stood with your hands on your hips, your patience wearing thin "Why won't I find it?"

"Because I flushed it out of an airlock months ago" Rimmer finally confessed "And I hid the case in the air vent to make everyone think it was still on board"

"You have got to be kidding me?" You sighed "You let me do all this knowing full well I'd never find it? Why can't you deal with Lister being happy?"

"Look I flushed that disc way before you glitched here, it had nothing to do with you!" Rimmer tried to explain himself "That disc would've just made him more miserable, she split up with him for someone else before the radiation leak happened, she wasn't interested in him, I was protecting him"

"Protecting him? Or were you really protecting yourself  so your esteem didn't crushed again?" You snarled, you didn't want to be mean but you were pissed and not about to let it go.

"Why are you pissed with me?" Rimmer couldn't understand why his mistake affected you.

"You know I love you more than anything but sometimes you are an insufferable prick Arnold!" You sighed as you went to leave.

"Please don't leave me!" Rimmer panicked.

"I'm not going to leave you ...but you do need to sort this jealousy of yours out" You replied before walking away.

You knew Rimmer meant no harm to you, after all he flushed it before you arrived on the dwarf but you knew all the while Rimmer's jealousy ran rampant in his head it would drive a wedge between the two of you. He's rationality knew you were only trying to help out Lister as a friend and nothing more but the raging green monster could only assume the worst and it was slowly taking over.

[lilikags]

Hello! Can I request a romantic matchup for tears of themis please? I am okay with my info being posted since for some reasons none can tag me....

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini sun, Taurus rising, libra moon

Enneagram : My dominant is type 5 then 8. Quizzes says that I am a 5w6 or 8w7

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child. I hate being treated as a damsel in distress.

Thank you and take care!

sorry, all the matchups for this month have been taken up. feel free to request next month though! >.<

[imagine-mr-markus]

Birthday Candles

I had to write sumn for my fave Dad on his birthday, but i got a teeeensy bit distracted watching Hellbenders so its a leedol late, sorry! But yes, here we have some tasty tasty fluff of my boys in honour of The Birthday. And not an all an apology for the fact that the next two I’m working on are just Angst of my Cyberlife Boys, absolutely not

Hank Anderson, at the ripe age of 53 and 364 days, fucking hated birthdays. Hated the smell of cake and frosting and the cheerful wishes of others. What he hated most about them, however, was the birthday candles. The smell of them, the sight of them, even the fucking mention of them was enough to sour his mood beyond recognition, no matter how good it had been before. It hadn't always been like that; in fact, it had only been like that for two years and three hundred and twenty-nine days. Twenty-five thousand, four hundred and sixteen hours. One million, five hundred and twenty-four thousand, nine hundred and sixty seconds. The calculations flash irritatingly behind his eyes like they always have, and he shakes his head as his mood dips. He knows exactly why he hates those brightly coloured little sticks of wax so vehemently.

 They'd been Cole’s favourite.

 It had been a kinda stupid tradition his own mother had started when he was a kid to wake him up at exactly midnight on his birthday with a cake. There would always be another cake later, one for the party and the guests, but at midnight, when the world was quiet and the lights were out, it was just for the two of them to sit and eat a slice after he'd eagerly blown out the candles. Melissa had thought it was the cutest shit to grace this earth and had insisted on carrying on the tradition after they started dating, and he could easily admit that it was appreciated. It'd been part of what kept them together in the long stretch of time when they'd nearly fallen apart after pregnancy test after pregnancy test came back negative. But no matter how bad the fight, every birthday was ushered in with birthday candles and cake at midnight. It had only gotten better after Cole was born, the joy of the new baby and their much firmer foundation on marriage making for a much more relaxed morning. As soon as Cole had seen birthday candles, he’d been enraptured in the way only a child could be, and the new tradition that Cole always helped blow out the candles was born. For a solid portion of his life, Hank’s favourite smell in the world was the smell of the sweet smoke from the vibrant little pillars of wax.

 But not anymore. Not for one thousand and fifty-nine days.

 In the time Connor had been living with him, two hundred and ninety-eight days, his brain helpfully supplies, he's gotten much better at dealing with problems without the use of alcohol. In fact, he hasn't had anything stronger than a beer in months. But tonight, tonight the bar looks more tempting than he'd ever care to admit. He tilts his head slightly as he eyes his keys, fingers itching to make a break for it before Connor gets home. He could do it. Could grab his keys and be out the door. Connor would be disappointed, but he'd understand. Connor was good like that. He could-

The sound of the door startles him out of his reverie, the excited tapping of big paws on the floor following soon after.

 “We're home!”

 Hank turns away from his keys abruptly, mustering a smile as he looks towards the Android stood in the doorway.

 “Hey, Connor. How was your walk?”

 The kid offers him a smile before he bends to undo Sumo’s leash.

 “It was good! It's getting chilly out, but the leaves are starting to change! I like the orange ones best.”

 Some of Hank’s misery eases at Connor’s easy enthusiasm, and his smile is more genuine.

 “That's good. I like the orange ones too.”

 He pauses a moment to gather himself, mentally flipping the bird at his cravings for booze before continuing.

 “So, whaddaya want for dinner?”

 Connor doesn't need to eat, but after the revolution Kamski whipped up some fancy ass robotics that allows him to if he wants. It's nice to sit and eat with somebody again, even if the kid is way too addicted to coffee now that he can taste it. Connor tilts his head as he moves towards the kitchen, an easy grin pulling at his mouth.

 “Can we get Chinese?”

 Hank shakes his head fondly at the kid. Another one of his favourites was Chinese takeaway, and they'd eaten it with fair regularity. Although, Hank is kinda grateful. The kid’s been trying to learn to cook, but his skills aren't…. incredibly tasty as he insists on doing it ‘the human way’. The familiarity of it all helps ease the weight on his lungs, helps pull some of the itch from his fingertips.

 “Yeah, Con. We can get Chinese.”

  _____________________________________________

 “Hank, wake up!”

 His eyes snap open at the sound of Connor’s voice, hand going for his gun as he searches for what made the kid wake him.

 “What is it? What's wrong?”

 “Nothing. Happy birthday!”

 He looks at Connor properly, taking in the sight of the kid grinning at him excitedly from beside his bed. He's dressed in Hank’s old clothes, a hoodie too big even for him swallowing the Android whole and pair of ratty flannel pants from Hank’s much younger days hanging off his frame. He's got flour down his front and a streak of bright blue frosting on his forehead, LED shining a bright, contented blue at his temple as his eyes sparkle with excitement in a warm, flickering light. And before he even looks down at what he's holding, Hank knows it's cake adorned with candles. He can smell it, the sugary sweetness clinging to the back of his throat and the scent of melting wax in his nose. A sharp pang of something ugly strikes at his chest, a deep hurt pulsing behind his ribs and a flare of an irrational fury between his lungs. He can feel his face twist with it, and he sees Connor’s expression fall as his LED spins yellow.

 “Did…. did I do something wrong? I thought this is what family did on birthdays.”

 The kid looks heartbroken at the thought that he fucked up, doe eyes falling to look at the cake as his mouth turns down like he's about to cry. The expression pulls at that softness in him he had kept buried for so long, the gentle instinct to comfort and console. It was an instinct he'd always had; part of the reason people had been surprised he'd taken the promotions from beat cop upwards when he was one of the few cops who could handle kids well. It was where he'd gotten the idea for kids of his own, and that feeling had only grown exponentially once he did have a kid. Melissa had been a great mother, but it had always been Hank who would roll out of bed whenever Cole cried in the night, and Cole had very clearly been Daddy’s Boy. Melissa used to joke that if they ever had another she had dibs, but the fact remains that Hank has always been better with kids because he's a fucking bleeding heart who can never turn down a crying child. And he may logically know that Connor is not a child, but that doesn't change the fact that with his lower lip stuck out slightly and his big brown eyes ready to fill with tears at any moment and drowning in clothes too big for him, he sure as hell looks like a little boy that's been scolded. And that sets off that tender heart of his hard enough he grimaces before what Melissa used to call the “Dad Spirit” switches on. His tone gentles out of reflex, and he adjusts himself on the bed to sit up properly as he sighs slightly. He softens his shoulders, looking at Connor earnestly with forgiveness and apology in his gaze.

 “No, Connor, you didn't do anything wrong. I was upset, but not at you, alright?”

 Connor blinks up at him hopefully.

 “Really?”

 Hank can't help the little curl of his mouth at Connor’s question, nodding a little. He's bracing himself for what comes next, but for just a second, it's alright.

 “Really, kid. Now c’mere, lemme see it.”

 As quick as it had gone, that unbridled excitement is shining out of the kid’s every goddamn pore as he eagerly presents the cake. Finally, Hank forced himself to look at it, and he nearly loses his goddamn mind right then and there. It's ugly, there's no getting around it, but endearingly so in that way that screams of love poured into the batter. The cake is uneven and lopsided, and smothered liberally in baby blue frosting. There are candles neatly sunk into it, and Hank knows without a doubt there are fifty-four of them arranged precisely in concentric circles. And there, in the middle, spelled out in neat lettering that he can recognise as Connor’s own personal font (though the frosting is wobbly and has been badly fixed) are the words “Happy Birthday, Dad!”. A shaky smiley face has been added beneath, and its obscenely cute. There's suddenly something in Hank’s throat. Connor has never called him Dad before, and it makes his own mouth wobble treacherously. He coughs a little before speaking, ignoring how thick his voice is.

 “You make this yourself? I thought you didn't have any cooking protocols.”

 Connor looks almost ridiculously proud of himself as he nods excitedly

 “I did! I was tempted to download necessary coding, but I wanted to do it like a human, so I followed the recipe in the cookbook above the refrigerator! This one was labelled as your favourite!”

 His mother’s cookbook. He hadn't touched it in years, and the only time Melissa had ever gone near it was for that specific recipe. The last time he'd used it, he'd been making Cole’s cake. Connor had found it, he'd made him his mother’s birthday cake, and Hank isn't crying, he isn't goddamnit-

 “Hank? Are you alright?”

 He clears his throat again and scrubs a hand over his face to wipe away any damning evidence.

 “Yeah, Con. I'm alright, just got something in my eyes. C’mon, the candles are starting to drip onto the cake.”

 He crosses his legs so there's room on the bed, and Connor moves easily to perch in front of him. It takes a second of him considering his own legs with a yellow LED before he crosses them like Hank’s, a pleased little grin turning his mouth. You wouldn't know it if you only saw him at work, but the kid was gangly and faintly awkward when it came to anything related to sitting. It had taken months for Hank to break his habit of sitting ramrod straight with his knees together and hands on his thighs. Now the kid would sprawl all over the couch, but he was still like a pubescent boy learning how to use his own limbs and how to arrange them, almost like a fawn learning to walk. It shouldn't have been as adorable as it was, but Hank has given up on trying to deny how fond he is of the kid. He shakes his head as Connor sets the cake down on the bedspread, and he stares at the cake for a long moment with a strange mixture of joy and grief and fondness and sadness in his chest like a bruise. He lets out a slow breath and looks up at Connor with a smile.

 “Well? Are you gonna sing to me or not?”

 Connor brightens and nods, but a brief show of yellow spins at his temple before he turns his head.

 “Sumo! Come here!”

 There’s a quiet boof from the living room before big paws thud towards the room, and the shaggy dog trots into the room to sit beside Connor expectantly. The kid gives the dog a fond pat before turning back towards Hank. His smile widens as he takes a deep breath, something he doesn't technically need, before he starts to sing, and Sumo awoos quietly with him in an odd harmony.

 “Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday dear da-ad

Happy birthday to you!”

 Ok, Hank is crying. He’ll admit it. It's one thing to see it written out in the cake, it's another to actually hear Connor call him Dad. And while it's not a surprise, he's thought of Connor as family for a while now, it brings a painful lump to his throat and a feeling filling his chest to hear someone refer to him as Dad and mean it. It's a feeling he hasn't had in one thousand and sixty days, and he had missed it dearly. He scrubs at his eyes again, sniffling a little.

 “C'mere, kid. Help me blow out the candles.”

 Connor gives him a brilliant grin and scrambles to sit next to him, carefully manoeuvring around the cake. He picks it up to settle it on their knees, Hank’s right knee supporting the left side of the plate and Connor’s left supporting the right.

 “Ready, kid?”

 “Ready, dad!”

 That feeling clogs his throat again for a second before he offers Connor a nod. He bends closer to the cake, and Connor follows suit as they inhale. He blows out a good chunk of them, and Connor catches the rest with ease before laughing a little. It's not exactly a new sound, but Hank feels downright fucking blessed to hear it if he's honest with himself. Connor doesn't laugh too often, not outside the house, and it still feels special to hear the kid be so human. He's still fucking crying, but they’re good tears. Cathartic is the word, he thinks. A fork is offered to him, and he takes it gratefully. The hurt weighing on him hasn't gone away, he doesn’t think it ever will, but it's shifted, moved some, become lighter, and he rolls his shoulders back slightly as he sits up a little straighter. He's moving to take a bit of the cake when Connor gasps beside him, and he turns with a raised eyebrow.

 “What is it?”

 “I almost forgot!”

 The kid plunges his hand into his pocket, pulling out a very familiar, very worn old Polaroid camera. Hank blinks at it, taken aback. He hadn't known he'd still had that around the house.

 “The fuck you find that thing?”

 Connor beams at him.

 “In the boxes in the garage, along with the photo albums! They were shoved in the back, but I found them while I was cleaning over the summer. It's where I got the idea to make you cake!”

 There's that funny rolling in his stomach again, like overwhelming happiness and sadness mixing like oil and water in a shaking bottle. But it's… it's good. Like the tears. Cathartic. He nods, gesturing with the fork.

 “Alright, well let's get this show on the road. I wanna eat my cake.”

 Connor laughs again, and Hank grins at him as he slings his own arm over the kid’s shoulder to bring him closer as he raised the camera.

 “Sumo! Come get in the photo!”

 The dog bounds easily up onto the bed, big head bumping at Connor’s forehead as he sniffles at the frosting there. Hank chuckles and shakes his head as he looks at the camera, making sure the text on the cake is visible as Connor presses the button. The flash is temporarily blinding, but he blinks it away as the camera spits out the sheet of thick film. Hank doesn't shake it like his mother used to, he knows better than that. He wants this one pristine if he can help it, especially because he's going to want copies of this shit. Eventually, maybe soon, maybe not, he'll stick it in the photo albums Connor found. The ones he hasn't had the guts to look at for years. But maybe…. maybe with Connor sitting next to him, he can focus on the good times as he tells him the stories about the photos. The kid is still pressed firmly into his side from Hank’s arm around his shoulders, and it's a good feeling, to sit beside someone. No, not just someone. His son. He knows Cole is never coming back, his little boy is gone, but maybe someday he'll see him again. And with any luck, he'll get to introduce him to his older brother.  Well, younger brother? It's a comforting, if slightly confusing thought, and Hank grins as he transfers his fork to his other hand so he can keep Connor close while he digs into his birthday cake. The photo develops a little while later, and Hank loves it. You can see that he's been crying, but his smile is easy, and Connor has his nose scrunched up as Sumo licks his forehead, and the cake looks even uglier in the flash from the camera and it's absolutely perfect. He’s gonna need a copy for his wallet AND his desk, goddamnit, and he might even feel brave enough to put one of his pictures of Cole beside it. It's only right that both of his boys be present, really.

 The smell of sweet candle smoke is heavy in the air, and he breathes it in. He can see Cole as he was the last time they celebrated together, green eyes sparkling and one of his front teeth missing from his broad smile as he shouted in the dark.

 “Happy birthday, dad!”

 Connor’s voice comes from beside him, and he turns to look at the kid as he smiles.

 “Happy birthday, dad.”

 He leans against Connor slightly, squeezing him gently.

 “Thanks, son. I'm glad you decided to celebrate with me.”

 And he means it.

 ___________________________________________________

 At the age of fifty-four years and one hour, Hank Anderson loves birthdays. He loves the birthday cake that's lopsided and the too thick layer of frosting and the cheerful wishes of the Android beside him. And most of all, he loves his favourite scent in the world.

 Birthday candles.

[theskygivesmelife]

"I am the master of my fate,"

How ironic that a poem about self control uses this very phrase, whilst ignoring the fact that fate, or destiny actually imply that there can never truly be any control, for all is predetermined from the beginning of time.

...

I'd say we don't. Nonexistence is a superior state of existence in my opinion.

...

First things first: you don't love me, so stop saying you do. Even if you genuinely believe you do, you'll understand what I mean.

With that said, for the love of God can you stop messaging me? Not on WhatsApp because I will have *deleted* it, and not on Android messages because I can't respond as I don't have any balance. I use my phone only for music or gaming mainly anyway. Speaking of which, I thought I did make it clear that I don't want to talk to you. When was the last time we did talk? Right, your birthday. I don't remember ever being that drained after talking to you. Honestly, it was a pain—was it for you too? I guess that's what happens as one becomes truly apathetic. Seriously, I don't know who you're still trying to contact, but that person's dead. Well, not literally unfortunately, but if you do want to talk to some tired, disillusioned soul I'm still here I guess. As I mentioned, your little I love yous at the end don't really hold, because, you know, you're really just refering to the wrong person. For the record, I've started to think that not only am I incapable of loving, but am also incapable of being loved.

Anyhow, lets just say that if I were Jekyll then I'm Hyde now. To be honest, I don't even know why I'm responding to you. The "fuck her, why give a damn?" voices have been quite loud for some time. Well, I don't think of you all the time, so "fuck the world" might seem more apt as a generalisation. Back to the point: some time ago I'd have actually cared, but I don't give a shit now about anything.

I'll say it now: I don't think it'll ever be a good enough reason for you. I don't think any reason ever will. You'll probably still try to convince me to maintain contact, even though it's so horribly one sided. Well, I just couldn't care less for the most part. It'd probably be good if you wouldn't waste your time on me though. I mean, let's be real. You're not going to get my number once out if this country. Even if you miraculously did, you'd certainly make some replacement friends in college without the downsides that I have, so it'd be pointless. I know you won't listen anyway, and I said that I don't care either. So why am I even trying? I don't know.

If you'll remember I've tried to shut you out multiple times. It's funny now, ~because I feel absolutely nothing now.~ Quite often in the past I'd feel quite regretful or guilty, but now? Heh, just an emotionless robot just moving along now. Going through the motions you know. Still, if there's one thing I should mention, it's that I never lied to you when I said some sentimental crap like caring about you and such. Whoever I was back then, he genuinely ment it. And now, it seems like my wick is shorter than I imagined. It's going to burn up quick. You know what that means? Garima, it means peace at last. So, let me have my time now. I still dream of that little cottage far away, secluded from society. No-one for company. Okay, a cat and a dog. They'll be nice. A drum kit. Video games maybe? What'll I do? Electrician perhaps? Mechanic? Just so long as it isn't a crappy 9-5 job, and actually pays my bills. No people. No friends—do I really have any? No girlfriend—I don't want one (not asexual, but I'm not as horny as you I guess), and I doubt I'm capable of forming a proper relationship anyway. No family—I never had one to begin with. Can you imagine it? All alone and blissful. Just let me be. Please. One way or another, I'm gone. I'm actually feeling sad now typing this, tears in my eyes and all (I haven't cried in forever) but you shouldn't be. You've got a long, long way to go; you'll do well anyway. I don't know what I really was to you, or what I've done to you. I know that I was a hard person to deal with. I can't really list out all the times I've failed you; I hope you will forgive me for them. Believe me when I say that if there was ever I person I really tried to keep happy as often as I could, it was you.

" *Bye, stay healthy and happy* "

I won't—I can't.

Bye.

PS. Nice songs. I still appreciate music I guess, unless it's a really bad day.

...

[8/18/2018, 12:03 AM] Prathik: It seems not. Oh well, I was hoping I could talk one last time. Silly of me; you're probably either sleeping or studying for tomorrow's — should I say today's? — test.

[8/18/2018, 12:57 AM] Prathik: You know, I've been thinking: what if I wanted to talk to you one day? Would you then be ready to hold conversation? I think you would, but that doesn't strike me as fair. I mean you say that you'll miss me, but that's something you'll just have to take in your stride. On the contrary, if I miss you, then I try contacting you, and in all likelihood you'll just respond. What do you think?

[8/18/2018, 1:44 AM] Prathik: Maybe you're free tonight? I just want to talk; I don't know what I'm even doing now. Ugh I can't even explain it without sounding like some self pitying shithead. Forget it. I'm sorry

[8/18/2018, 12:42 PM] Prathik: Seriously, the very dynamics of our interactions are messed up. Everything is based on my mood and how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk? No problem! I'll go silent. Depressive episode? No problem! I'll go silent. It's like I can literally choose what and when we get to converse. Tired of our conversations? No problem! I'll just stop talking to you. And all you say is that you'll miss me. Sure, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, but bloody hell — why didn't you ever call me out for my behaviour? Gee, we screwed up...so many flaws and nothing was even done about them.

Yes, I'm ranting. I'll say stupid things, and maybe hurtful things too. If I were completely aware of what it is that sounded like that, then I wouldn't be saying them. Not that it's an excuse for saying anything I shouldn't. You probably shouldn't take anything personally, because in all likelihood, I'll probably just be projecting.

[8/18/2018, 12:52 PM] Prathik: Oh shit, I really need psychological help don't I? Do you think that if I got better, I'd finally stop sabotaging all the relationships I have?

[8/19/2018, 12:19 AM] Prathik: Goodbye

[8/19/2018, 2:25 PM] Prathik: Okay, I'll just leave this here. Just one last thing. I honestly am doubting my mental stability: I'd wager that I'm fairly unstable in general and more so at this point. My mood seems to swing like a fucking pendulum, and for whatever reason, I have and possibly might keep spouting unnecessary shit. So please, just *IGNORE EVERYTHING* I say. *EVERYTHING.* Except this one last message. Please. It's all I ask.

[8/19/2018, 2:54 PM] Prathik: I'm also not going to be using WhatsApp anymore — no point now right? — so I guess you'll be spared if having to reply to anything.

...

[8/8/2018, 10:24 PM] Prathik: Bloody hell, always nice to me even though I don't deserve it. Can't just go study like you ought to or talk to anyone else? You've got tons of friends after all. Perhaps one day they'll give you a consolation prize saying "good effort; hard luck" and maybe then you'll see how you're just wasting your time. Whatever. It's not like I can control you or force you to behave in a certain manner. Stupid world. Just leave me be

[8/8/2018, 10:52 PM] Prathik: I don't even know why you don't give in. I mean, what am I to you? Some depressed idiot that makes you feel better about yourself? I don't think that's the narrative you've sold to me, so that's probably not the reason.

It's kinda like you're an ant running against the wind. Not any wind, though, just that which is being blown by some sadistic little kid. It keeps running into it. Over and over it tries and fails. The wind keeps pushing it back, but the ant doesn't see how futile it's attempts are. It doesn't see that despite the fact that it keeps trying, nothing's going to change. It has so many other avenues of exploration, ones that would certainly lead to a great reception from the colony, but oh no. The ant keeps running, hoping that the resistance will decrease. Eventually the boy just blows harder, and the ant flies away and lands on its back. (Good thing it has an exoskeleton.) Only then does it see how pointless its efforts were, and that they were better off invested somewhere else.

...

You know how people throw that fucking annoying platitude around? That things will get better? Doesn't happen. It's no different in its progression from a physical illness, and once you go beyond a certain stage you're only living on fumes at that point. Limited time. But it'll get better they say. Fucking hell, it can also get worse, but who's willing to actually concede that bleak truth?

...

Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I'm just getting worse mentally. I mean, I set the suicide date for when I'm 25. It's only kept dropping. I started considering pushing it to college years, and now I'm genuinely pondering whether I should just drop out of college like when I'm 19 or so and be done with it — at least I won't have to wonder about how you'll come meet me in USA lol. I'm also drawing more blanks in tests. It's not like I don't know, it's just making me more and more anxious. Like the psychology UT we had just some time ago. I left 12 marks because it seemed to easy to be true and I thought I was wrong. I got 17.5 . And meeting people, ugh. Worse than ever. Sure I'm introverted, but at this rate I'm practically going to become a hermit. My ability to function like a sane person is waning, and it's actually quite clear. It's makes me awe struck and horrified at the same time seeing how someone is so capable of self sabotage. Yeah, I don't think I was made for this world. Just one big mistake that hasn't been taken care of yet.

...

Oh, if you haven't listened to it already, you really should listen to Heroes by David Bowie. Please do, if you haven't yet. Just this one song.

...

[6/28/2018, 12:13 AM] Prathik: I love you.

[6/28/2018, 12:14 AM] Prathik: ^ I just felt like saying that.

...

You don't get it. I don't know for sure that you like talking to me. Yes, you've said so so many times that I've lost track. I'd be lying if I said that it were enough to convince me. It isn't; you can't do anything to change my perception of myself, and sometimes I'll project, being the idiot I am after all. There's never going to be a time when I can the voice that says you're you're just using me for some kicks or something to shut up. That doubt will never go, and every time you say something like that, I'll make sure to interpret it as evidence that even you don't care, that you just let your guard down. You can't ever really make me satisfied or happy, so don't throw away any more of your time actually trying to justify anything. If you know that what you've done is fine, then it's fine.

...

[6/12/2018, 8:51 PM] Prathik: Speaking of which, it's interesting that you brought up the fact that our relationship is dysfunctional. Not that I really addressed it well when you originally meantioned it. It does make me wonder, are the dynamics of the way we interact with each other actually healthy? Perhaps we're just fucking each other in the ass and not even realising it? While it's a possibility that I consider, you should know that I don't think the second one is too probable. All the same, it's bothersome enough to actually consider pondering over. Funny, though, how I've just turned a blind eye to it; best relationship you've had you say. Pretty much the same for me, I suppose that's why I've not considered anything that suggests contrary to that opinion.

You know, we never did our cliched apologies. I'm not sure what exactly to apologise for; however, I don't have any qualms admitting that I did fuck up. I'm not sure it makes any sense to apologise for going silent for a month. Honestly, while I did miss you, I'm not sure of how much I actually regret it. Heck, if I hadn't misunderstood your message and not responded... Moreover, what's the point of saying sorry for something I've done multiple times and might do again anyway? It probably does defeat the purpose of it. I do regret making you angry though. I'm not too proud of getting you pissed off, I honestly am sorry about that. That conversation just didn't go the way I'd have liked it to I guess...

[6/12/2018, 8:53 PM] Prathik: Also, is it just me or have things between us changed? I mean, the one month silence probably did more harm than good. It'd have probably been better had I never done anything, or had not stupidly misinterpreted what you said and stayed silent after all. I don't know, I'm not saying it has anything to do with you anyway. I know who's responsible if something is wrong after all.

[6/12/2018, 10:04 PM] Prathik: Oh, today I mixed NaOH with NH4Br, boiled it and inhaled it. I also had to do some speaking for a group activity in English, and I didn't really fuck it up at all or get shaky knees

Just saying. Anyway, which Tapasya acquaintances are you still in touch with?

[6/12/2018, 10:42 PM] Prathik: Oh look, they just killed off net neutrality in USA. Fucking Ajit Pai. As if he didn't have an incredibly punchable face to begin with.

...

[6/10/2018, 10:05 AM] Prathik: If you say so. Read at your own inconvenience.

Since I'm idiotic enough, I decided to read more of the dude's articles. Lost a ton of brain cells. Also, don't read the comments. Nutty, the lot of them.

[6/10/2018, 11:00 AM] Prathik: "The power of propaganda always surprises me. Only 30 years ago, homosexuality was almost universally condemned, and now it’s accepted in half the world and half the States. Clearly, the natural position worldwide is that homosexuality is a disorder, and should be condemned. The problem is, we lost the youth. Somehow, homosexual advocates were able to brainwash and indoctrinate them into accepting it. If you talk to anyone my age, they believe that homosexuality poses no health risks (homosexuals have a 5 times higher chance of getting HIV) and that they are born as homosexuals (despite no scientific evidence.) IMO this is a result of two things: homosexual propaganda (esp. through the internet) and the collapse of the traditional marriage model. The parents simply haven’t taught their children about Christianity and thus they are easy prey for the homosexual movement.

Honestly, I am very pessimistic and I feel that it’s only going to get worse as time goes on. More and more ‘Christians’ are accepting this behavior day by day and it’s heartbreaking."

Has to be the most ironic things I've ever read. Talks about propaganda and indoctrination, but completely turns a blind eye to how he's become what he is.

[6/10/2018, 6:29 PM] Prathik: And now, I've realised that I could have actually spent my time better by talking to you on the phone as you suggested. Not that I studied one bit as I planned to do.

...

[6/9/2018, 1:56 AM] Garima Joshi: Bye now, love you.

[6/9/2018, 1:57 AM] Prathik: Bye. Love you.

...

if I could really recover from the depressed, socially anxious, and suicidal person I am today, believe me I'd let you know immediately. I promise.

...

[3/20/2018, 3:01 AM] Garima Joshi: I know you said you were tired. Thanks for sticking around. Always great talking to you.

[3/20/2018, 3:02 AM] Prathik: It's always fun talking to you. So.. yeah. Do we say goodnight or goodmorning at this point?

[3/20/2018, 3:03 AM] Prathik: Yeah. Stay safe in Delhi will you? Bye.

[3/20/2018, 3:04 AM] Garima Joshi: I'll try, I'll try.

Have a good day (today)

Bye, love you.

[3/20/2018, 3:06 AM] Prathik: I thought you said cheesy stuff were grossing you out...

I'm sorry, did I sound a little overprotective?

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Garima Joshi: Okay Patrick I love you v much but I'll find you a wife tomorrow, for now you need those 2 hours 58 minutes of beauty sleep to rope in all those women

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Prathik: Lulz. Fine. Love you too.

[cgmayra]

Hey! I really love your prompts! They make my day! I was thinking...have you seen that boom!sonamy comic where they're in a cave on a mission and Sonic is expecting Amy to maybe try to flirt with him? Could it be something along those lines? It's ok if you don't do this, I'm sure you have plenty other requests too lol

(x) Used with permission from the artists, please support them as well! (Author’s note: If you or any of your artists friends would be alright with letting me use preview images for my prompts, please let me know! I’m willing to alert you to when your image is being used and use whatever credit link you may prefer! Thank you!)

Thank you so much~<3 I have and it’s amazing! It always makes me laugh, and I love the love and devotion put into the art-piece! I find this idea cute and amusing, so this will be purely based on the comic and continuing through it from there… I like the idea of Sonic ‘wanting’ Amy to flirt with him, haha! xD I’m sure the new ‘focused’ Amy is strange to him lol!

But is he really okay with it..?

Prompt:

 Sonic couldn’t take too much of the heat, nor the uncomfortable feeling of being trapped under a leaky cave like this.

With Amy Rose…

‘Phh, it’s hot in here.’ he lightly fanned out his bandanna, before wondering why Amy wanted to come all the way out this far with him…

The cave had some decent beauty to it, he supposed.

Suddenly… Sonic realized how… dark and humid it really was…

‘Uh-oh!’ he flinched, twitching back when the thought of Amy’s lowered eyes… blinking to him in a slow.. alluring way… caught the fancy of his imagination.

There was… technically… some beauty… in the cave…

“Wow..!”

Sonic heard the gasp and crunched up, shifting his body lower before swiping his eyes and head over to her.

“What is this place?”

Sonic took more notice of Amy’s features… how she had grown up… the way her hand laid by the crook of the ending curve of her silhouette…

He had barely noticed, but he was checking her out and subconsciously making decisions.

Suddenly, Amy seemed to grow nervous. Seeing Sonic staring at her, she sweat dropped a little and turned to meet his stare.

With the awkward silence, brought increased tension, and her eyes shrunk at him not saying anything with his prolonged stare…

“What’s that for!?” she saw his odd expression, but could barely make out in the dark the slight red upon his cheeks.

He also felt the awkwardness, but for some reason, it pulled him towards her,… he moved away from it though, uncertain as he also shared in her nerves.

“..Aren’t you going to..?”

“To what?!” Now Amy was getting upset, seeing him distracted, but she figured maybe he wanted her to lead the charge towards completing their mission.

Sonic suddenly straightened himself out, as if he suspected her of ‘playing dumb’ but wasn’t going to condemn her for it…

Still, he had to look smart, right?

“Yeah… you know…” he waved his hands out, down and out, to hint to her that he was ‘catching on’ to what she was ‘throwing down’.

He played it cool, not wanting to mess up his first real makeout session.

“We are alone, The lights are off..” he was trying to create… ‘the mood’…

“You’re not gonna try and seduce me, right?”

he prepared himself, getting it together and telling himself it was gonna be a run for the rings…

‘Come and get me, Amy…’

Amy was half-listening, half-ignoring him. She was preoccupied with looking around for the crystal, the true mission at stake here.

She had long since concealed more her obsession for Sonic, but even now, he was only making it awkward and not at all what he ���thought’ was stirring anything in her.

‘Where coud that Crystal be..?’ she barely admired the cave’s beauty, but in the dark, it did glow and radiate some magnificent light…

It could be romantic…

But she kinda shrugged it away, it’s not like Sonic would-

She suddenly picked up on his last line, and every bone in her body spazzed out at around the same time. It was a like a ringing of a bell going off in her craving-deprived mind and she quickly stepped back to look at him.

By now, he was just wondering when she’d pounce… turning his bandanna around, he carefully, silently… undid the knot for her and waited for her to make the first- and last- true move on him to end and sweeten the deal…

Boy was he wrong.

“GEEZ, SONIC!” she flung her arms out to direct him to the lighted, crystalline path.

“Focus on your job!” she scolded, an eye twitching as she used every mental practice of discipline to tell herself he was kidding.

Startled, he shot himself straight up in an army man’s stance, hands to his sides.

“O-okay…” he was more than embarrassed, he was confused, and downright…

Disappointed.

As they continued along, he mumbled little grumbles from the side of his face, at the corner of his frowny mouth. Looking off away from her, he would secretly take glances back at her, seeming more and more frustrated as she walked on ahead.

‘What’s her problem?!’ he moved himself over rocks in their path. ‘She should have been all over me!’

Amy suddenly stopped in the middle of her stride towards deeper within the cave.

‘H-huh.. what’s she doing?’ Sonic froze up a moment, looking perplexed with an ‘o’ in the center of his mouth, as if confused by why she stopped.

His eyes suddenly narrowed, smirking smugly…

‘Heh-heh! She must have realized what a missed opportunity she had! Alright… I’ll let you make it up. No harm… no foul…’ he switched his bandanna around again, before she turned her head over her shoulders.

He flinched at the deep and menacing glare that she held, before she continued to walk on.

Shivering, and not sure if she somehow hated him now or something, he continued to follow her in absolute puzzlement.

“W-what did I do wrong!?” Sonic blurted out, as she ‘hmph’d and pouted,… what he couldn’t see… were faint pink blushes on her cheeks…

The two continued through, as Sonic raced below her while she acrobatically swung herself up one pink, streaking horizontal pillar to the next.

She was gracefully beautiful… and he found himself staring at her with a puffed up cheek of annoyance.

He looked away after a moment, before spinning himself up and dashing up a speed-ramp.

“Amy!” he called out, as she saw the robots coming and jumped in the air to him.

They clasped hands and he swung her to hit the robots that were coming down from the opening at the top, before they landed in it as the robotic pieces of armor came crashing down with the mechanical worms that were piloting them.

They’re hands stayed together as they both peered down at the falling scrap metal.

“That’ll show’em.” Sonic smirked, before looking at them holding hands.

He flinched, and looked away a moment, still blushing.

Amy thought to herself, still staring down. ‘Phew, that was close.’ before looking back up and freaking out once again, her eyes turning white in pure shock at Sonic’s new expression.

He must have thought the expression made him look cool, trying to be extra-handsome, and purse up his lips and give her seductive eyes, but she just threw her arm out of his and walked on, gesturing to the end of the tunnel’s glowing lights.

“MISSION. AT. HAND.” she scolded once again.

“A..Alright.” he freezed up again in a military stance.

‘That’s twice now she’s rejected me!’ After continuing their advance, he rolled up and tightened his bandaging on his arm before Amy noticed his struggles.

‘She can’t really hate me! What did I do? I even tried the first move this time-ah!’

She suddenly put her hands on his shoulders. “Stop a second.” she looked seriously up at him.

‘Ack! this is it!’ he flipped out a moment before taking a deep breath in and closing his eyes.

She didn’t notice and moved for his arm.

He turned his chibi-crying face away from her as she helped clean-up his poor handiwork on his arm’s bandages.

‘Why..???’ he mentally cried out.

“Honestly, you need… to take better care of yourself.” she was blushing..?

Sonic turned back to notice this.

“Hey, Amy… I’ve noticed something.” he was more genuine now, but also innocently inquiring.

She was trying so hard, holding everything back, resisting the urge to hit him just because she didn’t want to frighten him with her constant doting anymore…

“…But you’ve been kinda serious lately, huh?”

She held it together, when she really just wanted to be held at that moment.

Her body quaked, and Sonic took that as her growing frustrated, and flinched back.

“I-I take it back! You’re just super dedicated to helping everyone, r-right!?” he waved his free hand out to try and subdue her anger, but she quickly got up from attending him and twitched her closed-fists.

He looked worried a moment, sweat dropping before…

She looked up with a bright red face.

“YOU DOTE! I’m trying to be sensitive to how you feel!” she blurted out.

He blinked in confusion. “Eh?” he tilted his head as a hammer came crashing down on him.

“OW! H-hey…” he pouted, rubbing his head that he lowered before seeing her turn around, gripping her hammer and hunching over slightly away from him.

“I… emm…” she was still quaking, trying to hold her feelings in… but she really wanted to cry. “Stop teasing me.. it isn’t funny.”

He lowered one hand down.

“…I… I don’t want… em… to distract you.”

He walked towards her, lowering his other arm too and extending them out.

Towards her.

“I just really want to get the mission done!” she thrust herself upwards as his hands flinched back and withdrew themselves from coming around her.

“-And you have to act like me caring about your bandages is ‘too serious’, geez!” she hollered back, and continued on, “Honestly, am I the only one whose trying to be a proper hero here?”

Once again… he misread the situation, and looked almost like he was giving up the ghost.

“I give up. I can’t understand you.” he swayed as if all energy was lost from him.

As they were about to exit the cave, he folded his arms and pouted, looking away while Amy stared at a beautiful scene in front of them.

“For once, nothing is chasing us!” she then continued but he wanted to just leave. Being around her was confusing him, and he didn’t like being so unsure of himself…

Suddenly, as they walked away, she spun around and pecked his cheek after he waited a moment for her to explore her surroundings.

He stepped to the side, pleasantly startled, and tried to hide his embarrassment at not being ready for her sweet action.

“W-wh-what was that for?!” he stated, surprised as his hands came up to ‘guard’ himself from any further unexpected surprises.

She leaned a little forward, to the side of him, and put her hands behind her. She cutely beamed a sweet grin up to him, closing her eyes, “For letting me have my way~” she teased, and then continued on, looking determined and refocused again.

“Now, let’s find the others and the rest of the crys-ACK!”

She had raised a fist up, heroically, before turning back to seeing Sonic flinging off his bandanna reaching an arm out for her again.

When he saw she wasn’t ‘still in that mindset’ he raced back for his bandanna, “Oh no! The wind! My bandanna! Get back here, you-!!!” he faked his worry about the bandanna and darted to grab it again, comically jumping and missing it on purpose to throw her off his…

Original… intent…

Author’s notes:

(This is AU but I thought it matched the ‘feel and tone’ of the comic characters and setting :) What do you think? Silly Sonic~ Always misinterpreting the new Amy! Loll!)

[phoutube]

(warning i'm a bit negitive in the end of this) yh i get what u mean about identity, like dnp/the fandom have helped me realise a surprising amount abt myself generally. i'm such a different person than the month before i started watching them. i didn't intend for it to be deep but ig it's kind of true?? like even if society was completely deconstructed & we were like cavemen, there'd still be leaders we looked up to in the same way as 'famous' right? there always has been. 1/?

also yeah but i’ve been watching art analyise meaning videos lately lmao. it was fun tho, the gallery had a bunch of interactive reimagining stuff n moderist paintings about first nations erasure in art (here, very local thing). there was a sacred japanese wishing temple as well (i forgot the name) and i threw an acorn at it n wished for dapg to come back someday, BPE (big phannie energy). 2/3

i’ve had like, a really bad week even tho nothing bad has actually happened, it’s just my head making me feel like shit. i’m always waiting for smth to make me happy again but it never ~~works. i feel like the only thing that could make me feel better is a new dapg vid, or it being 2018 again, but since that’s basically over we goin✈✈suicidal thoughts 2night. i hope you’ve had a good week/day <3 - ii hoodie anon 3/3

yeah!! the dnp community literally helped me realize I was bi and all that, and I’m definitely a different person than I was before watching them. I’m definitely more open about a lot of stuff?? like they kinda opened my eyes to a lot of problems and stuff in the world, also how important it is to take care of your mental health????? and don’t even get me started on the LGBTQ+ community and how society enforces gender roles and all that. I’m really glad I’ve had the opportunities I’ve had, because I’ve seen different people my age who are complete ignorant assholes (putting it lightly) about stuff like gender and sexuality?? and I always can’t help thinking “that could have been me….” because I’m just a stupid teenager, and without 1) the unique environment I grew up in and 2) the people I look up to (dnp), I could have been totally different?? idk I guess that’s just my Hot Take on some stuff for the night, enjoy my ramblings I guess

also you’re right?? in a way there have always been famous people, and if not ‘famous’ in the modern sense of today’s society, there have always been legends and stories of people… so you have a really good point, actually, because someone DOES have to be famous. it’s pretty unavoidable ig

anyway, back to the stuff that’s been going on in your life!! that sounds really cool??? any analyzing videos are fascinating, really, and I’m super glad you had fun at that art gallery!! interactive type stuff is SO cool..,.,.,. and honestly throwing an acorn at a sacred temple and wishing for DAPG to come back??? that’s the biggest phannie mood so far, tbh

and that sucks?? I’ve definitely had days and weeks like that… like there’s a weight on my chest that won’t lift and that nothing’s really interesting anymore? it especially started at the beginning of 2019, even though this has actually been a really good year so far… like a few days ago I got put into a group project with this kid who I didn’t know before this semester? (I have to classes + lunch with him now) and he jokingly asked why I never smiled and hated everyone…. and it really confused me?? because I didn’t realize I’d gotten like that, I’d always been That Obnoxious Kid in all my classes?? like I was super loud and always cracking jokes, so I guess I’m maturing?? if me maturing means that all my classmates think I’m some asshole robot, then I think I’d rather stay an obnoxious high schooler, then. I hope you get better too, honestly suicidal thoughts are shit to deal with?? I’ve very recently been able to get rid of mine and I hate that other people in the world have them too. idk I guess I’m just automatically the Mom Friend in every situation

oh shit okay just as I was typing that I got super dizzy for no reason so maybe it’s time to lay down even though I’m already laying down and maybe take a break from the internet. I hope you have a better week than the last one, and that you’re happy!! <3 <3