#it's not as rare as i think it is and also why shouldn't a more accessible world be a part of peoples' ideas of fantasy

[moodymisty]

Hello! I can not tell you how fERRAL I went when I discovered your blog a couple days ago, I've binged the fuck out of your Darksiders content and I just can't belive I havent found you sooner (where have you been fr ;7;) !! Your writing style and vocabulary are impeccable, and I can't wait to read moreeee ahhdjshdjsjdj I am eagerly awaiting the next chapter of 'Tree in Bloom' but if I may request also a continuation or conclusion of your 'Death returning to the one he abandoned post well of souls' fic cuz I'm a succer for your angst and fluff and everything else you do really jdjshdj<3 sfw or nsfw idc as long as I get to read more of your writing!<333

Lots of love and support from a long time Darksiders community member and fan <3

Part 1

Author's note: Sure fam, I think I can squeeze out a bit more for that one.

Relationships: Death/Gn!Reader

Warnings: none really

Death hadn't returned to you since the confrontation.

It's a rare feeling for him, but he honestly doesn't know what to do next. If you were missing, injured, he could formulate a plan, kill something, even bite his tongue and ask for assistance. But you're right here, and so unfathomably angry at him that the anger has morphed into something else entirely.

Apathy, perhaps. Death wouldn't be unfamiliar with that sort of transformation. He'd felt that change towards the fate of the Nephilim a long time ago.

But Death knows that he doesn't want to just leave you behind the way he does with everyone else. The way he had tried to with his death in the Well of Souls, and had failed to successfully do. He enjoyed having you beside him, enough so that it almost made him upset at how attached he was getting. It made him even angrier that it was becoming more than just acquaintanceship, or friendship. He shouldn't be having the sorts of thoughts he was about you, he didn't deserve them.

You didn't either; Not after what he did. He knows he had to, it's what he thought was best, it was the only way to save War and your race, but that doesn't mean he hasn't realized how it had hurt you.

But now he stands in front of you completely silent, and all the words he was thinking about saying suddenly sound so stupid.

"I told you Death, you can just leave. I don't know why you keep coming back."

His jaw shifts behind his mask. That sounds eerily similar to something that he would say, and he isn't a fan of being on the other side of it. Perhaps for a moment he understands a bit of how you feel when you try to speak with him.

You look up at him with raised eyebrows, wondering why he hasn't either talked, or just moved on. Your anger fades ever so slightly when you seem to realize that he's... nervous. Or at least something in a similar category.

"What is it, Death?" He swallows the knot in his throat. What he's going to say isn't something he's said in so long that he doesn't remember how the words taste, nor does he know if it's even the right thing to say.

"I wanted to apologize to you."

Your face changes from anger to surprise. He thinks he sees your lips mouth what, but your voice was silent. You cross your arms across your chest as if trying to give yourself a hug.

"Why?" At first he thinks you're asking why he's apologizing, but when he sees the watery shine in your eyes he realizes that you're asking why he did what he did. You just wanted an answer, this entire time, and he knows now that he at least owes you that.

"I thought it would be better to just leave than to drag it out."

You wanted to be angry at him still he can tell, demand that he explain himself more, but you know in the end that's all you'll get out of him in words. You could at least understand him; That it was easier to rip the bandaid off than to say goodbye and risk feeling hesitation over what he had to do.

You sigh, still crossing your arms over eachother.

"You don't have to apologize. Just, don't leave me like that again." Death watches you look away from him again, and your next words hit him harder than he's been hit by any weapon in awhile. "I don't know if I could take something like that a second time."

Death doesn't comment directly on it, on how you so easily show you're attached to him. Death had tried desperately to stop you from doing so, for your sake and his. You shouldn't attach yourself to someone like him, and someone like him doesn't deserve such upfront, vocal infatuation.

"Dust stayed with you this entire time?"

Death looks down on you with his familiar expression, though even you can tell behind the mask it's a bit softer. The bird warbles softly at his name being called, ruffling his feathers a bit but still staying mostly still. You nod at his question.

"Yes, ever since you left." Death looks at his left shoulder at the crow, watching the bird eye him.

"Good bird." You smile at his praise. Dust deserved it, after everything.

"I imagine I have plenty to catch up on," Death says. He knows you have a penchant for curiosity- as does your entire race it seems - along with the changes he himself brought not long ago. He's sure you've gotten into trouble under the Makers care, as well as anything that has changed since he brought Humanity back from the dead.

"You do." You take a breath and raise your tone to something more questioning, and more importantly expectant. "But I can bring you up to speed, if you can stay awhile?"

Death out of habit wanted to say no, but perhaps he can defeat a centuries old habit just for you.

He nods, and follows behind you as you go to sit down together with him, and tell him everything.

[sleeperagentclone]

I am too socially inept to deal with all the weird people my dad has collected over the years

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Alright. I came across someone saying that Rick "put Jason in a pedestal" and "overhyped" him by emphasizing how good looking he is and that Jason shouldn't have been so attractive looking. (Tbf tho that person made it sound like they seemed more mad bc their least favourite character was considered good looking lol) but I'll yap about the significance here anyways. Beware of a very long yapping session below.

I do understand their frustration though, because jason getting told that he looks good all the time makes it seem very shallow and unfair to the others.

And let me tell you, Jason is SUPPOSED to be gorgeous looking in everyone's eyes. He is supposed to be conventionally handsome, Rick didn't intend for his looks to be "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " or something like Percy's (like how Piper didn't find him as impressive) Percy's is supposed to be more authentic. Percy's character isnt centred in people idolizing him, everyone can acknowledge that he's handsome looking, but it isn't in a "perfect" type of way, he's a carefree spirit and that reflects on his looks. While Jason is hardwired as this ethereal looking hero in people's eyes that not even ONE can deny that he looks good, bc ppl in Rome had set him as the "standard". Jason said this before in the lost hero, that him being a son of Jupiter, makes him feel like the support he gets is only because his dad is a very regal and intimidating figure.

That's kind of the whole point, he's supposed to look like this perfect man who can do no wrong. His "Golden noble boy" arc is literally the whole concept of his character. Why else do you think rick wrote Aphrodite approving of Jason's looks saying that he needed no improvement (which she rarely does) ?

Because Jason is supposed to be put like a statue to admire and idolize, that's ALSO why rick made sure to add that Jason looks like a Roman sculpture, bc that's like a metaphor for his inner conflicts. The guy was put like an artifact for people to ogle at in camp Jupiter ever since he was a kid of 4. That's part of the tragedy.

Annabeth said it perfectly “Annabeth tried to hide it, but she still didn’t completely trust the guy. He acted too perfect - always following the rules, always doing the honorable thing. He even looked too perfect. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging thought. What if this is a trick and he betrayed us?” Mark of Athena, page 6.

His mother, whom he's supposed to look like, is also a literal world wide tv actress. So you can't expect anything less either.

Also, Jason is supposed to mirror Percy. And let's be real. Rick put Percy in a VERY high pedestal looks wise, aswell, Not just Jason. And that's okay.

Rick made Hazel mistake Percy for a literal god because he was just that good looking (tbf, in a way, when I was younger, I found this to be a little bit of an exaggeration, bro was covered in mud and seaweed and was compared to a god, it was rlly funny to a 10 year old me 😭 yeah but don't mind this though, this was just a younger me jealous that I couldn't be as pretty as Percy was in mud lol) If Percy can be "hyped" up so "unrealistically" in that particular situation then so can Jason. They are both literal half gods, so unrealistic praise is very normal) and rick also made sure to emphasize that almost all the teen characters had a crush on Percy. So apparently that isn't called putting a character in a pedestal but Jason's is? They are BOTH put in pedestals, because they're both heroes.

Jason and Percy are supposed to be equals, so both of them being in the top two when it comes to looks makes SENSE. Because people are supposed to argue about who is better looking, since they're written as foils.

You cannot expect rick to make Percy look like a god and Jason look like a rat 😭 then there's no point of having them as parallels if one has the upper hand in something. Rick did a good job by conveying that they are BOTH attractive, but in different ways. That's why the Percy/Jason looks debate always have mixed answers.

Jason getting complimented by Aphrodite, the GODDESS of beauty, for his looks and her saying that he didn't have anything to "fix" in his face BC it already looks gorgeous = Percy getting compared to a gorgeous Roman god by hazel. They are both equal comparisons in slightly different tones.

[weird-is-life]

Shouldn't I want you?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison

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

Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.

He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.

It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.

It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.

On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.

You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.

So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.

You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.

Spencer, of course, sees right through it.

"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.

"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"

A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."

You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."

"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.

"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"

You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.

"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."

"I-" Spencer starts.

"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.

Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.

"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.

"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.

You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.

Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.

You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.

-

A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.

You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.

"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.

"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.

She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"

"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.

"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.

"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.

"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.

Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."

"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.

"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."

Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.

"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."

"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.

"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.

"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"

"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.

Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.

"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."

You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.

"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.

"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.

"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.

"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.

-

When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.

"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.

"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.

"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."

"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."

Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.

"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."

You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.

"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.

You take a brave step towards him.

"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"

"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.

Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.

Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.

"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.

"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.

Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"

"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."

Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.

"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.

After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"

"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."

You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.

You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.

[supersoakerfullofblood]

Point of View: the Biggest Thing You're Missing!

Point of view is one of the most important elements of narrative fiction, especially in our modern writing climate, but you rarely hear it seriously discussed unless you go to school for writing; rarely do help blogs or channels hit on it, and when they do, it's never as in-depth as it should be. This is my intro to POV: what you're probably missing out on right now and why it matters. There are three essential parts of POV that we'll discuss.

Person: This is the easiest part to understand and the part you probably know already. You can write in first person (I/me), second (You), and third person (He/she/they). You might hear people talk about how first person brings the reader closer to the central character, and third person keeps them further away, but this isn't true (and will be talked about in the third part of this post!) You can keep the reader at an intimate or alien distance to a character regardless of which person you write in. The only difference--and this is arguable--is that first person necessitates this intimacy where third person doesn't, but you still can create this intimacy in third person just as easily. In general, third person was the dominant (and really the only) tense until the late 19th century, and first person grew in popularity with the advent of modernism, and nowadays, many children's/YA/NA books are written in first person (though this of course doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't write those genres in the third person). Second person is the bastard child. Don't touch it, even if you think you're clever, for anything the length of a novel. Shorter experimental pieces can use it well, but for anything long, its sounds more like a gimmick than a genuine stylistic choice.

Viewpoint Character: This is a simple idea that's difficult in practice. Ask yourself who is telling your story. This is typically the main character, but it needn't be. Books like The Book Thief, The Great Gatsby, Rebecca, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Sherlock series are told from the perspective of a side character who isn't of chief importance to the narrative. Your viewpoint character is this side character, the character the reader is seeing the world through, so the main character has to be described through them. This isn't a super popular narrative choice because authors usually like to write from the perspective of their most interesting character, but if you think this choice could fit your story, go for it! You can also swap viewpoint characters throughout a story! A word of warning on that: only change your viewpoint character during a scene/chapter break. Switching mid-scene without alerting the reader (and even when you do alert the reader) will cause confusion. I guarantee it.

Means of Perception; or, the Camera: This part ties the first two together. If you've ever heard people talk about an omniscient, limited, etc. narrator, this is what they mean. This part also includes the level of intimacy the reader has with the viewpoint character: are we in their heads, reading their thoughts, or are we so far away that we can only see their actions? If your story is in a limited means of perception, you only have access to your character's head, eyes, and interpretations, where an omniscient narrator sees through all characters' heads at once. (This doesn't eliminate the viewpoint character--most of your writing will still be in that character's head, but you're allowed to reach into other characters' thoughts when needed. You could also be Virginia Woolf, who does fluidly move through everyone's perspectives without a solid viewpoint character, but I would advise against this unless you really are a master of the craft.) Older novels skew towards third person omniscient narration, where contemporary novels skew towards first person limited. You also have a spectrum of "distant" and "close." If omniscient and limited are a spectrum of where the camera can swivel to, distant and close is a spectrum of how much the camera can zoom in and out. Distant only has access to the physical realities of the world and can come off as cold, and close accesses your character's (or characters', if omniscient) thoughts. Notice how I said narration. Your means of perception dramatically effects how your story can be told! Here's a scene from one of my stories rewritten in third-person distant omniscient. The scene is a high school football game:

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” She shivered; the wind blew in. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, stuttered there, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” She met his eyes, which he pulled away. “You don’t mean that," Piper said. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” The cloth of Carmen's uniform caved and expanded under Piper's fingers.

With distant-omniscient, we only get the bare actions of the scene: the wind blows in, Piper shivers, the cloth rises and falls, Carmen points, etc. But you can tell there's some emotional and romantic tension in the scene, so let's highlight that with a first person limited close POV:

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not much anymore.” “It’s not better, then?” Frost spread up from her legs and filled her as if she were perforated rock, froze and expanded against herself so that any motion would disturb a world far greater than her, would drop needles through the mind’s fabric. A misplaced word would shatter her, shatter him. “A little.” His tone lifted. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be better, though.” She placed a hand on his arm, thought better, and slipped her arm around his waist. “Did it help to be on your own?” He raised an eyebrow. “You were there.” “Yes and no.” “And the guys, the leaders.” “Come on,” she heckled. “Okay, okay.” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, it helped. I don’t think—I don’t know—I’d be me if they’d fixed it all.” She grinned. “And who might you be?” “Oh, you know. Scared, lonely.” He fired them haphazardly, and a bout of laughter possessed him which Piper mirrored. “Impatient.” “And that’s a good thing?” “No.” He sat straight. “Gosh, no. But I don’t want to be like him, either.” He pointed to the field; Devon recovered a fumbled ball. “He’s never been hurt in his life.” “You don’t mean that.” She spoke like a jaded mother, spoke with some level of implied authority, and reminded herself again to stop. “Maybe not. He’s too confident, though.” Piper felt the cloth of his waist cave and expand under her fingers and thought: is this not confidence?

Here, we get into Piper's thoughts and physical sensations: how the frost rises up her, and how this sensation of cold is really her body expressing her nervous fears; how she "thought better" and put her arm around his waist; her thought "is this not confidence?"; and how she reminds herself not to talk like a mother. Since I was writing from the close, limited perspective of a nervous high schooler, I wrote like one. If I was writing from the same perspective but with a child or an older person, I would write like them. If you're writing from those perspectives in distant narration, however, you don't need to write with those tones but with the authorial tone of "the narrator."

This is a lot of info, so let's synthesize this into easy bullet points to remember.

Limited vs. Omniscient. Are you stuck to one character's perspective per scene or many?

Close vs. Distant. Can you read your characters' thoughts or only their external worlds? Remember: if you can read your character's thoughts, you also need to write like you are that character experiencing the story. If child, write like child; if teen, write like teen; etc.

Here's another way to look at it!

This is a confusing and complex topics, so if you have any questions, hit up my ask box, and I'll answer as best I can. The long and short of it is to understand which POV you're writing from and to ruthlessly stick to it. If you're writing in limited close, under no circumstances should you describe how a character other than your viewpoint character is feeling. Maintaining a solid POV is necessary to keeping the dream in the reader's head. Don't make them stumble by tripping up on POV!

[matrixbearer2024]

Ahhhh I hope you take in smutt requests cause I got an idea 🙏

Vox eating out the reader while they are sitting on his face <3 but suddenly his screen cracks

Smutt turned funny or smth hihi

Also would be very fun if reader was afab but like with gn pronouns

Glass Breaks

Vox x gn!afab!Reader

NSFW WARNING HERE! MINORS DNI!

A/N: I've seen some posts going around talking about Vox and an S/O that had some... mishaps- during a face sitting session and I am LIVING for it. Granted I wrote this really late so I don't know if it'll be any good or if Vox is a little OOC but I hope you enjoy it anon!

Vox had a pretty rough day.

Dealing with his company, reporters, the other Vees-

He wanted nothing more than to just collapse in your arms and forget the day's stresses.

Instead, he came back to an extremely sexy surprise.

He'd taken his coat off, hanging it by the door as he strolled in and looked for you.

The dead silence was quite rare when it came to you.

Hell, he expected you to just be waiting by the door with your arms outstretched for a hug as always.

But the second he'd opened the bedroom door, Vox quickly wished he'd done so sooner.

You were laying on his bed in some lingerie, a sheer robe leaving nothing to the imagination.

Not that he was at all complaining!

Vox couldn't tear his eyes away the second he stepped in.

You knew he was entranced, the tech overlord often was when you gave him surprises.

Wholesome ones or not.

It also went without saying that you loved tempting him.

So definitely his libido shot through the roof when you teased him further, making a "come hither" motion that had your beloved's screen overheating.

Va Va VOOM BABY-

The fans in his head quickly kicked on to high gear as a blush quickly settled on his face.

Despite that, an eager smile wormed onto his face as he made his way over to you.

Not willing to let just anyone stroll in however, accident or not, Vox of course locked the door.

"Tough day~?"

"If I get to come home to this? Makes it all worth it."

You cooed as your neck was peppered with gentle kisses and nips.

It wasn't rare for Vox to be this soft with you in bed, but you garnered it was probably because he was tired.

Oftentimes if he needed to release stress he'd just fuck you silly into the mattress no matter what you were wearing.

You were kind of expecting the same today really, hearing his ranting over the phone just a few hours prior-

Even so, this wasn't too far fetched of a scenario either.

On the other hand, if he was tired?

He would just service you until you were sated.

Then you both could have a passionate round two in the morning.

You exchanged gentle kisses with Vox while he did away with your clothes.

His claws carefully grazing your skin as he groped so he wouldn't hurt you.

A shiver ran up your spine as one of his claws rubbed against your slit.

Your panties even gained a damp spot from all his ministrations.

Vox only chuckled at the revelation, pulling away from the kiss to gaze at your flustered expression.

He loved making a mess of you, it was extremely fun and exhilarating knowing that only he could do this to you and nobody else.

Leaning over to whisper in your ear, his claws gently caressed your sides.

"I wanna try something, follow my lead?"

"Of course."

And that's how you found yourself in this current situation.

Sitting on your boyfriend's screen while he voraciously ate you out.

Vox honestly couldn't even get enough of your moans.

You cried his name out so much he wouldn't dare forget it now.

His hands held down your hips while his tongue worked wonders.

He was just totally drowning in you when you sat on his face.

Why didn't he think of doing this before?

Usually he'd be above you if he was giving oral but honestly this works too.

Of course- there was a really good reason why you shouldn't be sitting on his face.

Which was further proven when you heard a small cracking sound before losing yourself in the throes of passion.

Both of you froze in shock from the sound before you slowly got off Vox and your suspicions had been proven right.

His poor screen had a crack running along the edge where you were leaning most of your weight.

Your beloved only raised a hand to feel his screen to confirm what he'd been guessing before groaning in frustration.

Vox just promptly wrapped himself up in a blanket cocoon annoyed and embarrassed.

So much for that, not to mention the mood was gone.

You couldn't help but giggle at just how random it all was.

Oh well, it just wasn't meant to be.

That didn't help Vox's grumpiness at all.

"It's not funny doll."

He tiredly muttered, you didn't think he'd be so defeated by such a small thing.

Then again, maybe it wasn't exactly a small thing for him.

You shifted closer to your TV lover and lightly tugged at the blankets until he looked at you.

His eyebrows were pressed together in what you could only describe as annoyance.

Though it quickly dissipated when you started just lightly leaving kisses all over his screen.

Being mindful of the cracks that you inadvertently caused of course.

"Wh- Wait- (Y/N) what are you- mmPHF-"

You quickly shut him up with another sweet kiss, pulling away to gently stroke the side of his head.

"It's okay hun, really. We tried, and well- now we know why you're not supposed to sit on a flatscreen TV-"

Vox half-heartedly groaned at your attempt at hilarity, flipping you both over and tickling you in retribution for such a poorly landed joke.

Your joyful laugher was more than enough to sweep away his annoyance and irritation at his hardware durability failing.

Afterwards, he held you close for cuddles until the next morning where he'd inevitably have to go and get his screen repaired.

Though that was trouble for tomorrow's him to deal with.

Bonus:

Valentino wasn't the only one who noticed the condition of his colleagues' glass screen during a meeting.

Well it's not as bad as it could possibly be, but a cracked screen was a cracked screen.

"Geez, what happened to you? Did you get into a fight with the missus yesterday?"

"Uh... something like that."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arguments

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're what's different

Momma and Morsa don't yell at each other often but when they do, they're very loud.

It's one of the rare days that you're not stuck to their sides. You're off in your bedroom, digging through your toy chest because you promised Jessie that you would find your box of dinosaurs and bring it in tomorrow.

You don't play with your dinosaurs a lot but Jessie bought them for you when Momma and Morsa took you both to the museum and you think that Jessie should get to play with them too.

You can hear Momma and Morsa yelling through the door and that scares you a little. Not too much though because sometimes Momma and Morsa yell and when you go out to see them, they're kissing.

Adults are strange like that.

So, you poke your head out of your room.

Morsa storms past you. She gives you the tightest, most fake smile ever as she passes to go to her and Momma's room. Momma also goes past you, still yelling until they're debating back and forth.

"Where-Where's Morsa going?" You ask meekly from the doorframe as Morsa shoves clothes into her bag.

They both stop yelling to look at you.

"I'm just going to Johanna's for a little bit," Morsa says.

You frown. "Like a playdate? When will you be home?"

Morsa's throat bobs. "Like a sleepover." She shoulders her bag of clothes and kneels down next to you. She presses kisses to your cheeks and smooths down your hair. "I love you, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

That makes you cry. Your knees buckle and tears drop down your face.

Morsa shouldn't be going to sleep over at Johanna's house and she and Momma shouldn't be fighting either. It's not fair and you sob as soon as Morsa's out the door.

Momma tries to calm you but you just scream and cry and flop back onto the floor and pound it with your hands.

It's all unfair.

You think you cry yourself to sleep that night but you're not sure.

One second your screaming and crying on the floor and the next Momma's curled around you in the Big Bed and the sun is streaming through the curtains.

You bring your pack of dinosaurs to practice for you and Jessie to play with but you're not very happy.

Momma and Morsa are still angry with each other so if you're standing by one of them, then the other is nowhere near.

"Morsa," You say softly as you stray from Momma's side at lunch," What's for dinner?"

"I don't know, princesse," She says with one of her fake smiles," You'll have to ask your Momma."

You don't like that and tug on the bottom of her top. "Why? You're the cooking boss."

Morsa's still wearing the fake smile as she pats your head. "I'm staying at Johanna's., remember Princesse?"

"Why? You already stayed at Johanna's!"

Morsa's got one of those adult looks on her face that means she's not going to tell you the full truth. "You'll have fun with Momma tonight," She promises you," You can sleep in the big bed if she lets you."

"Want to sleep in the Big Bed with you too!"

"I'm sorry, princesse."

You pull away from Morsa and go to hide under one of the tables. Millie's big and strong so no one will bother you as you duck under the one she's eating at and sit by her legs.

Your mind runs at a mile a minute as you try to work out what's wrong with Momma and Morsa and how you can fix it. You're only little but Morsa says you're very smart and you're determined to fix this problem.

You know that your mothers never used to argue when they were younger. Momma's old teammates used to tell you that your parents were disgustingly in love when they were younger.

You think that's kind of sweet.

They don't argue a lot now but you think they must argue more now than before when they were younger.

At first, you don't know what's changed from then to now.

You mull it over before Millie shifts her legs.

They press into you a little bit more firmly now and, suddenly, you know what's different.

You're what's different.

When Momma and Morsa were younger and didn't argue as much, they didn't have you. They're older now and they yelled at each other last night. The only difference from then to now is you.

You don't like how that makes you feel. Your stomach goes all tight and icky and your throat closes up as you try to hold back tears.

Momma once told you that if something is making you feel bad, you need to remove it from your life.

Momma and Morsa feel bad towards each other because you're what's different now.

You don't want to go. You don't know where you're meant to go so Momma and Morsa can feel better again.

You can't go to Johanna or Zećira because they're friends with Morsa and still see her a lot. You can't see any of the other Not-Wolfsburg girls for the same reason.

You can't even see moster Frido because even though she doesn't live in England, she still sees Morsa at camp.

Maybe you can go back to Wolfsburg and live with Alex or Ewa. They don't play on any teams with Momma and Morsa and, maybe, if you're gone then Momma and Morsa will be happy again.

You sniffle a little bit and crawl out from under the table.

You'll try to find a different solution first because you really don't want to leave.

"Momma," You say softly when you find her," Why did you and Morsa argue?"

Momma pulls a face. "We're not talking about that, princesse."

"But why?" You know you're pushing but you can't find a different solution if you don't know what the problem is.

"Princesse," Momma's voice is firm and you know you need to drop it," It's adult talk. Little ears don't need to hear it."

"Momma!" You say," I have to know! Why are you and Morsa angry?!"

"Enough!" Momma rarely raises her voice at you and it makes you suddenly flinch back and pull your hand out of hers. "I've said that you don't need to worry about it and I mean it! No more questions!"

"Don't talk to her like that!"

You hadn't realised Morsa was there until she spoke.

She and Momma start arguing again and that makes you want to cry again.

This time, they're definitely arguing about you.

You run while they're still distracted, your backpack bouncing as you move as fast as your little legs can carry you. You can feel the tears dripping down your face as you make little heartbroken noises from your throat.

"Whoa," Jessie says as you bump into her," Careful there." She's smiling but it falls the moment that she sees how distraught you are. She drops to her knees and gently wipes your tears. "What's going on?"

Your breathing is ragged and your shoulders rise and fall quickly. "Have to leave!"

"You have to leave?"

You nod and sniffle. "Have to go back to Germany! So Momma and Morsa can be happy!"

Jessie's a little shocked, trying to make sense of her thoughts as you go completely limp in her arms, sobbing your little heart out as you try to blubber out your reasoning.

She's still trying to work everything out when Magda and Pernille come running over, panting.

You flinch away from both of them, tears still streaming down your face as you try to hide away.

"I'm going!" You cry out.

"Where are you going?" Morsa asks as she tries to take you from Jessie.

"To Germany! So you and Momma can be happy again!"

"We're very happy," Momma says softly," What's going on, huh? Are you missing Germany?"

"Morsa's not at home!" You sob," And you're arguing now! Because I'm here!"

"We're not arguing because of you, princesse," Momma promises," Sometimes, me and Morsa have some big feelings that we argue about. It's not anything to do with you."

You sniffle and wipe away some of your tears as Jessie lets go of you. "But you're arguing. You never argued when I wasn't born."

Morsa chuckles slightly and reaches out to cup your face. You let her.

"We did argue before you," She says," You being here doesn't make us argue more. If anything, you being here makes us argue less."

You don't believe that but Morsa has no reason to lie to you. "Really?"

"Really."

Momma draws you into her arms and you go willingly, reaching your hand out for Morsa to take. She rubs over your knuckles and kisses it.

"We're very sorry that you got so worried about this, princesse," Morsa says as you sap up Momma's comfort," It's nothing to do with you. Me and Momma are just a little silly sometimes."

"You're staying right here," Momma promises you," Who else will cuddle with me in the big bed?"

That makes you giggle a little bit.

"Aw, man," Morsa groans even though her smile betrays her true feelings," Cuddles in the big bed? Again?"

You don't speak but you nod.

"My princesse is going to have all the cuddles in the big bed with me. If you're good, Magda, then maybe you can get Princesse cuddles too."

Morsa laughs. "I guess I can be good if it means Princesse cuddles."

[mawidixon]

Saying "I missed you" won't express how I was dying inside

Daryl x fem!pregnant!reader

One-shot

Genre: Angst, fluff at the end

Warnings: Twd violence, swearing, pregnancy stuff,

Setting: Season 7 - Hilltop

Summary: After Daryl was taken by the Saviors, your life became much more difficult. However, you had a little reminder of him growing inside your womb.

A/N: This is my first one-shot. I did my best, but I'm not sure what to think about it. I hope you like it! Have a nice day! Sorry for any mistakes if there are any.

@mawi22 I don't want my work to be modified, copied, or any of this kind of stuff without my consent!!!

Your situation was rather of the ‘surprise’ kind of pregnancy that most women would not have been expecting to happen to them any time soon. At first, you could only feel the element of fear as you tried to think of how Daryl would respond to this new development that you never saw coming. It was troubling in your heart, for you understood well that he had his qualms about having a baby at this stage in life. There lies the grey area of a personal experience of a man who could not escape the dark memories of his childhood to become a responsible father and provider; the fear of making the same mistakes and reproducing the same patterns that define bad parenting. The commitment that a child would bring was too heavy for him to bear at this time in his life as he saw it as a mountain he would have to climb. This was the feeling you had when you were carrying this secret within you, a feeling of conflict within the self, torn between protecting him from the truth and the truth within your senses and conscience. However, with time, the silence became unbearable and you got to a stage that one could not continue suppressing the truth anymore regardless the fact that it created a feeling of awkwardness. The desire of getting closer and creating a fair partnership could not remain unanswered anymore, so it is, you had to face this sensitive concern with bravery and openness.

As time went by, Daryl's feelings for the unborn child grew stronger. Despite his initial fears, the anxiety that had plagued him over the past few months began to fade. He had always been cautious, but now, a new kind of tenderness emerged. When you were cuddling on the couch, he would often place his rough, calloused hand on your belly, rubbing it gently as if he could already feel the connection to his child. Daryl's efforts to prepare for the baby were evident. Every time he came back from a run, his backpack would be filled with baby clothes, toys, and little trinkets he thought might be useful. His eyes would light up with a mix of pride and excitement as he showed you his finds, his voice tinged with a rare softness as he explained why he chose each item.

One night, you pretended to be asleep, curious about the whispers coming from his side of the bed. You peeked through half-closed eyes to see Daryl leaning close to your belly, his lips barely an inch away from your skin. He was talking to the baby, his voice low and gentle, filled with promises and dreams for the future. It was a side of him you rarely saw, vulnerable and hopeful, and it made your heart swell with love. However, Daryl's protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing. He couldn't stand to see you doing any kind of unnecessary work. Whether it was lifting a box or bending down to pick something up, he would swoop in, insisting that you rest and let him handle it. At times, it was endearing, but often it left you feeling frustrated. You appreciated his concern, but you also craved a bit of independence.

"Darlin', you shouldn't be doing that," he'd say, gently taking a task out of your hands. You'd sigh, sometimes rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew it came from a place of love and fear of losing you both. Despite the occasional annoyance, you found comfort in his unwavering dedication. Daryl had faced so many dangers in his life, but none seemed to shake him as much as the prospect of fatherhood. And in his own way, he was already proving to be a devoted and loving partner, ready to protect and cherish his growing family.

...

That was until Negan and his people took Daryl. The day everything changed, you were at the Hilltop, just weeks away from your due date. The anticipation of meeting your baby was mingled with the joy of Daryl’s newfound tenderness and protectiveness. It was supposed to be a time of hope and new beginnings. You were resting in one of the rooms when the commotion outside caught your attention. Peeking through the window, you saw a group of people rushing towards the main gate. Your heart sank as you recognized Sasha and Maggie, both with tears streaming down their faces. You hurried out, your swollen belly making every step a little more difficult.

Sasha spotted you immediately and ran over, her face a mix of grief and urgency. "Daryl… they took Daryl, and killed Abraham and Glenn." she said, her voice breaking. For a moment, her words didn’t register. The world seemed to tilt, and you had to steady yourself against a nearby wall.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were crying uncontrollably. Your sobs echoed through the courtyard, a raw expression of the fear and despair gripping your heart. Everything had been perfect, or as perfect as it could be in this world. You were about to start a family with the man you loved, and now… now, he was gone. Each moment that passed without Daryl felt like an eternity. The fear that he might be dead gnawed at you, a constant, unbearable weight. You clutched your belly, feeling the baby move inside you, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had hoped to share with Daryl.

The Hilltop community tried to offer support, but nothing could quell the storm of emotions inside you. The world that had seemed so promising just a few hours ago now felt dark and uncertain. All you could do was cling to the hope that the love of your life was still out there, fighting to come back to you and the child he had already come to love so deeply.

It was another day without Daryl. Each morning, you woke with a glimmer of hope that he might somehow return, only to be crushed by the reality that he was still out there, somewhere, in the clutches of the Saviors.

As you sat in the room you once shared with him, your eyes wandered to the baby items scattered around, each one a testament to Daryl's growing excitement about becoming a father. Tiny clothes, soft blankets, and the little toys he had brought back from his runs—each piece carried a memory of happier times. You remembered the day you and Daryl decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise. It had been a moment filled with laughter and love, a rare lightness in your often perilous lives. He had said about teaching the baby to hunt and fix motorcycles. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to your face, followed quickly by a pang of sorrow. Now, with Daryl gone and no certainty of his fate, the need to know the baby’s gender became overwhelming. It felt like a way to hold onto him, to make the waiting a little more bearable. Perhaps knowing would bring some comfort, some sense of connection to him amidst the chaos.

You made your way to the Hilltop’s infirmary, your heart heavy but resolute. As the doctor performed the ultrasound, you held your breath, tears threatening to spill over. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, strong and steady, a small beacon of hope in the darkness.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced with a gentle smile, and the tears you had been holding back finally flowed freely. You clutched your belly, imagining a little boy with Daryl’s piercing blue eyes, his determined spirit, and his fierce love. The knowledge that you were carrying a son gave you a renewed sense of purpose. You whispered to your belly, promising Daryl that you would stay strong, that you would protect their child with everything you had. The thought of a little boy who would grow up to be a hundred percent version of his father brought a sliver of light to your heart.

Each kick and movement from your baby boy was a reminder of the love you shared with Daryl, a love that had created this new life. Despite the uncertainty and fear, you held onto the hope that one day, Daryl would return, and you would introduce him to his son. Until then, you would keep fighting, for both of them.

...

Thirty minutes had passed, and you were in the kitchen, preparing something to eat. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables was almost soothing, a temporary distraction from the gnawing worry that had settled in your chest. Maggie was sitting beside the table, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

“You should really let me do this,” Maggie insisted for the tenth time, her voice firm yet gentle. “You’re in the late stage of pregnancy. You need to rest.” You sighed, pausing for a moment to look at her. “Maggie, I’m fine.”

Maggie opened her mouth to argue again, but the sound of the gate to the Hilltop cracking open interrupted her. Her head snapped towards the window, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of hope. She quickly got up, moving to the stove to turn off the gas. "Hey, what’s going on?” you asked, a mix of confusion and worry in your voice.

Maggie turned to you, her face lit up with a sudden, intense emotion. “Daryl came back!” Her voice trembled with joy and disbelief. For a moment, you stood there frozen, the words echoing in your mind. Daryl came back. The knife slipped from your hand, clattering onto the counter as you felt your heart race with a mixture of hope and fear.

You hurried towards the door, following Maggie. As you reached the courtyard, the sight that met your eyes took your breath away. There, amidst the gathering crowd, was Daryl. His clothes were worn and dirty, his face marked by exhaustion and pain, but he was there. He was alive.

Daryl looked up, and his eyes met yours. For a moment, everything else faded away. You rushed towards him, your hands instinctively moving to your belly, feeling the life inside you kicking in response to your racing heart.

“Daryl!” you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. He moved towards you, his steps quickening as he saw you. In an instant, he was there, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing with relief.

“'m here,” he whispered, his voice rough but filled with love. “’m here, an' 'm not goin' anywhere.” You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands cupping his face. “I was so scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I didn’t know if you were...” He just wiped away your tears in response.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his heartbeat, the world felt right again. You held onto him, promising yourself that you would never let go.

To your surprise, tears began to stream down Daryl’s face too. The strong man you knew, who rarely showed any signs of weakness, was now falling apart before your very eyes. He got on his knees and cupped your distended belly with his calloused hands, running his fingers over your skin softly, which brought tears to your eyes. "How is my little one?" he said with happiness and the tenderness of a father. He smiled at you and the weariness in his eyes was replaced by hope. “He’s okay,” you responded, not even realizing that you were saying it out loud. As for Daryl, his eyes opened wide in shock. “He?” he repeated, coming to the realization. It suddenly dawned on you that you had let it slip. You had planned to surprise him but in the heat of the moment, you blurted it out. “I’m sorry. .. Yes, I shouldn’t have—”Before you could finish, Daryl’s face softened. He slowly stood up, reaching out to cup your face gently. He said softly, “Nothin' to apologize for.”

"I love you"

"I love ya too"

[lavender-storm]

You are here now

summary | Theo breaks down and confesses why he's been so distant lately.

pairing | Theo Nott x fem!reader, she/her pronouns

warning | mentions of abuse, su1c1de, sad Theo, probably grammar mistakes

word count | ~2k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so if you found grammar mistakes, no you didn't. I also haven't written anything in a while, so i hope this isn't too bad. Let me know what you think! Xx

His legs are weak, and he can barely breathe when he finally sees her walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Y/N," his voice booms off the walls, scaring everyone around them. She stops but doesn't turn around, not needing to see who it is. She could recognise that voice anywhere. "Can we talk?" he says, a bit more quietly now. But she doesn't move, unsure what to do as Theo approaches her slowly. "Please?"

She takes a deep breath and simply starts walking towards a more secluded area. Theodore is breathless, his face is flushed and his whole body trembles. He's thinking of what to say, how to put his feelings into words as they sit down on the stairs, far away from curious eyes. Neither of them speak as he tries to slow down his vigorous heart. But words don't come easy to him as anxiety takes over his body.

The silence between them is too loud.

"How you been?"

"Good," Y/N answers, avoiding his gaze."You?"

"Eh. Could be better."

Another long silence, as Theo tries to collect himself.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" she asks, voice stern and cold. How did they end up like this? She used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. He misses it. Every day and night, it's all he can think about. How she laughed at his jokes, how she found comfort in his arms. How it all turned around as a fight followed a fight, with yelling and tears. The last time they talked, Y/N told him how disappointed she was, that he became one of those Slytherins. His heart shattered as soon as the words left her lips. He understood why of course. But it was him against his father, and he needed to change. It was for the better.

He should have said something a long long time ago. He shouldn't have waited. But he's scared, and his life is a mess and he just wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He's breaking under the weight, he's all alone and he can't find a way out.

"No, no. I, uhm," Theo's nervous, and Y/N can tell. It's rare he's like this and a heavy weight settles in her chest. He's usually collected, and outspoken, he never had any trouble talking. She wants to comfort him and let him know he can talk about anything, so she hesitantly lays a hand on his forearm. Even after all those arguments and crying and not talking, she cares. Of course, she cares. She is full of love.

Theo takes a shaky breath and tears collect in his eyes. He can't hold it back no matter how much he tries, because he feels so overwhelmed by her. He doesn't even know where to start.

Should he talk about his father? Should he tell her how he treats him? And that he never meant to become like this, but it was inevitable.

He needed her then, and he needs her now, but he fucked up by pushing her and everybody away, and he's scared he can't make it right. Y/N quietly calls his name as she caresses his arm, and a loud sob leaves Theo's lips. Y/N's heart rate picks up, the worry she felt before turned into terror as Theo's body trembles with every sob as she cradles him into her arms, holding his head to her shoulders while raking her fingers through his hair. Her heart breaks for him as he clings to her like his life depends on her.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never meant to do-, I di-didn't know - I'm just s-scared, so fucking scared. I hate him so much and then I did this to you. I miss y-you so bad, I can't even fucking breathe."

"Theo calm down, I can't understand you. Shh, it's okay just take a deep breath with me okay? Yeah, like that, great. You're doing great. One more," she says as she holds his face in her hands. Theo's chest tightens at her kindness. All those things he fucked up. He's a horrible son, a horrible friend, a horrible person. And yet here she is, wiping his tears with such a loving look in her eyes, his soul aches - he doesn't deserve her. "Now tell me again, okay? Slowly. I'm here, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I truly am sorry."

"I don't hate you, Theo-"

"Yeah, sure, than you are mad at me, whatever same thing."

"Theo-"

"I'm sorry okay? For everything. I didn't tell you the-, "he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, tears still streaming down his face."I didn't tell you the truth. I lied because I didn't want you to know. But I needed you. I needed you so bad. So I kept it a secret because I was scared. What if you agree with him? What if you see me the way he sees me? So I just avoided you. I know it's stupid, but I was so goddamn terrified."

"Who is he, Theo? What are you talking about?"

"Dad," he whispers and hangs his head, refusing to see her reaction.

"What is he saying, Theo?"

"It's all my fault," he murmurs. Y/N's brows are furrowed in confusion, what is he talking about? What is his fault?

"No, Theo, no. I'm sure that's not true but what is-"

"But it is, Y/N! He is right. My mother always had to take care of me and my problems, that's why she- and now he hates me! I'm a burden and I made their lives miserable."

"That is not true Theodore, listen to me. Don't think that. And I'm sure they could never hate you. You probably misunderstood, I know your parents love you-"

"You don't hit someone you love! I would never hit you! Never. Not even Blaise or, or Draco, or the others, never. " Y/N's whole body freezes, her mind's rummaging through her memories. Oh Merlin. How could she miss this? How could she not realize that…

Y/N is angry. Angry that Theo didn't say anything until now. Angry that she couldn't see the obvious. He showed up with a new bruise every few weeks, and rumors of him initiating fights for fun, spread like fire. But no one ever knew who he fought. It always remained a mystery. Because all of it was a lie, and deep down Y/N knew, but that was easier to believe than this. He needed her and she ignored him. The only person she could ever open up to needed her the most, and she just left him.

"Theo, all this time we thought you were fighting other students, you-"

"He says it's the least I deserve. She was always working and always stressed because of me. They had to sacrifice so much. It's all my fault she couldn't take it. And now all of this is on Dad. It's my fault, I did this. I killed her."

It's an unwritten rule in the Nott family, that nobody talks about the death of Theo's mom. As far as others are concerned, she ran away. And so that's what Y/N thought too.

"She killed herself because of me. And he makes sure I'm aware of that. And I'm so scared that he's right."

"He is not right, Theo, look at me. He's not right. He's full of shit. I've never met your mother, but I know, he raised the kindest, smartest, most amazing boy ever. I know she must have been so proud to call you his son." Theo cries louder, his fingers hold onto her tightly. "I'm proud of you Theo. You don't deserve any of this."

Guilt claws at her chest as she takes him in. His eyes are red and puffy now, but a bruise is still visible under his left eye and a deep cut, already healed, splits his eyebrows. His skin is pale and cold, and he's so thin that his uniform hangs on his body like it's three sizes too big.

Months ago, it fit him perfectly.

She was so consumed by her anger and jealousy that Theo chose his new friends over her, that she couldn't even look at him. And she curses herself for being so oblivious and idiotic, because if she looked at him, only just a second longer, she would have seen the truth. Now, sitting on the stairs with only a little light, she can truly see him. And the Theodore that's sitting here is not the same Theodore she left that day.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N. I know I'm horrible but please. Please forgive me," he begs, but Y/N shakes her head. If someone should be apologizing it's her, not him.

"No, don't apologize. I'm- oh, Theo, I'm so sorry. I should have realized it. I should have paid attention, I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry I left you alone. I should have never done that," she says, pulling him into her embrace again. Theo hugs her tightly, basking in her warmth. "And you are wrong. You are not horrible. You are the most amazing person I've ever met, Theo. You were always there for me, always looked out for me. I'm so sorry I didn't do the same."

"You're here now,"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you staying?"

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere. Not again. I promise." He believes her. He knows none of this is her fault and if she knew, she would've never left. "I love you Theo, so so much. We'll get through this. Together."

And for the first time in months, Theo feels peace wash over his body like waves, and the noise in his head stops. It's silent and calm in his body and soul. Everything's going to be alright. Y/N is here again. They are okay again. He will be alright again.

[chronicbeans]

Queerplatonic Alastor x Reader Headcanons

Hehe my plan of writing headcanons for various Aroace-spec identity Alastor headcanons has begun. This one is with a cupioromantic and asexual Alastor in mind. I haven't seen enough of them, and as they say! "If you want it done right, you gotta do it yourself."

TW: Frustrations regarding romantic identity, complete unawareness of certain LGBTQ+ topics (my man's from the 1920's, he's almost completely in the dark), slight yandere behavior? (I feel he's just obsessive by default, regardless of the relationship type)

• So, this man has never necessarily identified himself with any sort of LGBTQ+ labels. Back in his day, there weren't any terms to use for being asexual or aromantic. At least, not any that he knew of. He's always been comfortable with his sexuality, though! His main thought process was always "I'll probably find someone that I'm attracted to at some point, and if I don't, that's alright." That thought process has also followed him down to Hell, and stayed the same for all these years.

• However... Whilst he's very comfortable with his sexuality... His romantic feelings are very complicated, now. He's always desired to have one, and he's very confused as to why he hasn't felt any romantic attraction, yet. It makes sense that someone who wants a romantic relationship to be able to feel romantic attraction, yes? He's very much in the dark to the complexities of how these things really work, mostly due to him being from the 1920s-30s. He's caught up on slang and technology, but he hasn't bothered to keep up with sexualities and romantic identities, as he doesn't think about them much.

• So, does he ask any more modern demons and sinners for help? Ha! No. He's too prideful, and simply assumes that there probably isn't much of a difference in knowledge on romantic attraction as compared to his day. Yes, he's aware that there's way more identities for sexualities. People talk about them often, and he hears terms thrown around here and there as he walks through Hell. He never hears anything in regards to romance, though. It's simply not talked about as often, from his experience. So, he's completely in the dark. If anything, he's probably completely unaware that there are identities for romantic attraction.

• He does what he can to cope. This whole situation is very frustrating for him. However, at the same time, he thinks that it shouldn't be so frustrating. So, it's embarrassing to him, and he doesn't tell anyone about it. Instead, he does what he believes everyone who is single and ready to mingle does: reading romance novels. More specifically, he flips to parts where said attraction is described, or little scenarios that he wants is going on. Restaurant dates, walking through the park, dancing, holding hands and cuddling. Those sorts of things! Things nobody would ever expect someone as unhinged as him would want...

• The most frustrating part, however, is that he feels he should already be feeling such an attraction to you. You, being his most close friend. You're the one he trusts with certain secrets, one of the few people he doesn't mind touching him unprompted (besides, say, Niffty), and probably the only person he lets his smile down around. Though, he rarely does so, as he doesn't want to worry you. Unlike Niffty, who he sees as having a more familial feeling towards, he sees you as a close friend. His closest friend, but just a close friend, which frustrates him to no end.

• It takes him a long time to even think of mentioning it to someone. However, when he does, he'd feel too awkward to bring it up to you. So, he decides to speak to Charlie about it! After all, she has one of the more "modern" relationships. So, she probably also knows something about whatever is going on with him! And after the long and grueling process of talking to her? He comes out even more frustrated than before. Being unable to feel romantic attraction, but still want romance? Cupioromantic? It is all so confusing. However, he won't question it. He's clearly out of his zone, and he was horribly wrong when assuming the world of romance hadn't progressed...

• You, however, are his most trusted friend. His closest friend. So, he decides to waste no time in deciding to propose an idea to you. He's heard of these things called "queerplatonic relationships", and his understanding is that they are like friendships, but with some more traditionally romantic interactions involved. Which, whilst his understanding of the nature of queerplatonic relationships may be a bit off, he's trying his best. Once you explain it a bit further, emphasizing that they're closer relationships than friendships, but not romantic and can vary widely in affectionate interactions, he is immediately is set on trying to start one with you. Luckily, though, you agree rather quickly.

• Despite him wanting many of your interactions and ways of showing affection to be more traditionally romantic, such as cuddling or going out on friendly dates, he won't cross any boundaries. Both because you're his closest, most prized relationship with another person, and because he can't think of many other people who would even be willing to enter such a relationship with him if he ever asked. Not that he'd want to ask anyone else. There's a reason why he immediately went to you. It's hard for him to describe it, though. Despite being a man of words, whenever he tries to explain why he feels like you are the perfect person for him to enter this queerplatonic relationship with, he stumbles heavily.

• His little ideal for this relationship is, essentially, the types of things he's read in the romance novels he has. Sure, a little bit of a twisted version of it, but at it's core it's the same. He wants to cuddle in a nice, safe, and warm room (while there's probably the screams of an extermination going on the background). He wants to go to restaurants (this man's a cannibal so check your food). He wants to do the cheesy move of handing you red roses and candy as a gift (do not ask how he was able to buy such an expensive brand, or where the two large, heavy trash bags came from or what they are filled with).

• He's going to be very, VERY protective of you. Almost, if not completely to an obsessive degree. He knows how Hell is. People want power, and he's powerful, and you are close to him. He's sure many people are going to go after you, in order to get to him. So, your little relationship is going to be as well protected of a secret as it can be, at first, until he believes he can properly protect you from any danger. And after the secret is out, he's going to be right by your side the entire time. Literally. Whenever he can be, he's next to you. Nobody, except maybe Vox or another pesky overlord, is going to try to hurt you as long as he is there. Even then, he could completely destroy them, anyways!

[heartfullofleeches]

I have questionssss

One, what's it like when fast food reader goes home? How does everyone deal?

Also- I've seen a rival food place mentioned like, twice, but I know nothing about them! Can you tell us more?

Fast Food Reader actually rarely goes home. They sorta just black out and wake up in either the break room or one of the tunnels apart of the playground in the play place where the ball pit is. Sometimes they forget they even have a place outside the restaurant, but they immediately remember why they probably shouldn't leave because Lambchop gets super depressed even when they step outside just to take out the trash. When they head to their real home Lambchop tries to follow or just mopes around by the front door till they come in the next day.

Normally, it's the the janitor or the bathroom Succubus who takes them home so neither of them are too upset about them leaving. Their manager knows they'll always be back so they aren't too concerned, but they do miss their favorite employee when they're away. The Storyteller and ball pit hands are pretty much the same - though the hands will try to steal their keys. Reader definitely has to sneak when they're leaving because the ice cream machine ghost, the birthday clown, and the deer kidney guy won't let them escape so easily.

The rival Restaurant is owned by a currently unnamed rabbit mascot. It was originally imagined as a sort of healthy alternative style place, but now I'm leaning towards a sort of gimmicky mom and pop diner vibe just because I love that aesthetic. It's the type of place where the employees wear skates and nurses outfits, and there's something in the desserts that kinda sorta brainwashes the people who eat them. It doesn't work on Fast Food Reader for whatever reason - but that doesn't stop the rival from trying to win reader over mostly just because they think reader is cute and they want everyone in their restaurant to suffer.

[loving-strawberry]

✶Stray Kids reacting to their s/o ignoring when she's being sexualized✶ (HCS)

Summary: You are being sexualized by people because of your body, but you're so used to this, that you simply choose to ignore that.

It was a request!

A little note: To the person who requested, if you read this, I'm really sorry for what is happening to you:( Also, I couldn't really do exactly as you asked me, because my brain is refusing to cooperate with me sometimes! But I hope you like it!

Warning: Swearing. Some comments about body parts. Mention of food and drinks. Probably some writing errors.

Genre: A bit of angst. Fluff. (I don't know other ones???)

Pairing: Bf!Skz x Fem!Reader

Bang Chan☆

He was simply shocked when this happened for the first time in front of him

You two were just taking a stroll in a park, enjoying together your little time off both of you had that same day, which is a pretty rare occasion

And all of a sudden you hear some nasty and disgusting comments about your body coming from an old man

While poor Chan was feeling sick hearing that someone could say something like this in the a public space, without feeling ashamed of themselves, you simply ignored it

"My love, how could you just ignore something like that? Do you want me to go and talk to him??"

"Channie, it's ok. I'm used to it by now."

Now he's even more shocked

What do you mean used to it???

How many times did this happened???

Why didn't you told him anything yet???

He has so many questions and he feels so bad that there's not much he can do about your situation...

Lee Minho☆

This was happening as the two of you were on a date at a restaurant

And one man who was sitting at the next table, was looking intensely at your chest, even throughout your shirt

You just ignored his gross looks and focused on other things

But your boyfriend couldn't

He was pissed.

He doesn't want to accept that someone is looking at you like you're some kind of object and you to just ignore it like it's a normal thing

Even if it is normal for you, unfortunately

"You need to stand up for yourself when this happens!"

"Why? It's much more easier to just ignore them and don't show any reaction. They wouldn't understand anyway."

If you don't stand up for yourself when this happens to you, he will

And next time this happens, Minho will send deadly glares towards the people who dares sexualize you in any way

If that doesn't work, he'll go and have a little talk with them

You will need to stop him before getting his ass in trouble with JYP

Seo Changbin☆

This one takes place at the gym

You were doing some squats, and a group of men was constantly checking your butt and disgustingly smirking at each other

And of course, doing unnecessary comments

Wants to have a little talk with them part 2... Even though he's outnumbered

But stops when he sees that you don't give a flying fuck about this whole situation

"Babe, you really don't care? The way they commented about your body is unacceptable and disgusting..."

"Bin, I'm used to it. It's happening more often than you think."

Now he's all pouting, sad and disappointed with himself for not noticing sooner

And of course, disappointed with the people who can do such things

"You shouldn't be used to this, babe..."

Hwang Hyunjin☆

During one of your photoshoots for modeling, the photographer was starting to make you pose more and more sexy

Indecent actually

Like, almost Playboy style

But you just tried to brush it off

On the other hand, Hyunjin, who came along with you just to keep you company during this session, wasn't exactly happy about what just happened

He's having a pit in his stomach after all of that and you can tell he's angry

He will just tell the photographer to fuck off and takes you out of that place as fast as possible

"Hyunnie, what's wrong??"

"You're seriously asking this...? You've just been sexualized and you're asking me what's wrong?"

"It was happening so many than you could think off... I just don't care too much anymore."

Now he's furious and grossed out.

Of course Hyunjin wouldn't let you go back to the same photographer, despite your reassurances that everything is fine

And he'll search himself for someone else who to be trusted with you

Han Jisung☆

(I don't have any ideas of scenarios here🙃)

You two went out for some ice cream, and suddenly someone says something like 'I have something better for you to lick'

Han is about to go and deal with him, until you stop him

"Ji, don't waste your time with that."

"But-..."

"Just ignore him."

He's honestly confused as to how unbothered you are

Makes him question himself how many times did this happened before and never noticed

"Does... Does this happened frequently...?"

"Yeah."

"HUH?!?"

He'll start from now on to look after you and pay attention to your surroundings constantly

Lee Felix☆

You both were at a TV show when this happens and having an interview

After a while, the hosts attention is focused just on you and starts telling suggestive jokes about you

Probably to entertain who's watching the show

But you don't pay attention at all to them

Felix by now is mad.

And a little disappointed that you don't react at all about this

You know the expressions he always have when he's jealous/mad about something?

Yeah... That's how I'm imagining him right now

Moving on...

After the show is over, of course he'll start questioning you

"How could you just brush those jokes off like you being sexualized is a normal thing???"

"Because it's a normal thing, unfortunately."

"What...?"

Poor Felix, he will probably start crying after hearing this :(

Kim Seungmin☆

(Out of ideas part2)

Location for this one?

The beach.

You are wearing a one piece costume, not feeling like showing too much skin this time

But this never stopped two man to approach you

And starts make unnecessarily comments about how you should wear a bikini instead, because that's what men wants to see

Seungmin went to get you two drinks, and right when they said those gross things, he came back

He expected you to say something back to those men

But you straight up ignored them and started scrolling on your phone

Leaving Seungmin to get rid of the pests

He just fake tripped on his own feet and threw the cold drinks, with ice in them, on the men skin

Skin that probably was warm of because how much they stood in the sun

They just scattered away in the contact with the extremely cold liquids, and muttering some curses under their breaths

"I didn't know you can be so lame to not talk back in these situations."

"I talked back enough. No one listened. So I don't bother anymore."

"... I'll go grab other drinks..."

Most likely feels bad for saying that now that he knows you're struggling with this everyday

Will make sure to be the who speaks up for you next time something similar happens again

Yang Jeongin☆

I.N was doing a live, with you being somewhere in the background, laying in bed and minding your own business

You were also reading some of the comments that people had left in I.N chat, from your phone

Both of you saw a pretty nasty comment left from a "fan" about your body and how hot you looked laying like that in bed

But neither of you said anything about it

I.N didn't said anything, cuz he hopped you didn't saw it

You just ignored the comment, truth be told

Shortly after that comment was left in poor boy's chat, he ended it, feeling too sick to continue the live

"Are you ok, Innie? You look a little pale..."

"Y-Yeah... It's just... I read a comment that made me feeling unsettled."

"Oh? The one about me? I just ignored it. I've gotten even worse."

If I.N wasn't pale before, he is now

He just couldn't understand how anyone could say something like this so easily

.............................

✧ Masterlist ✧

✧ Tag List ✧

@bangchansbae @tattywood @nebulousbrainsoup @https-skzology

[arxxq]

𝐖𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑..

[ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 <3 !! ]

writing for my favorite characters: itoshi rin, akabane karma, sano manjiro

itoshi rin - mentions a guitarist reader,

akabane karma- mentions of rivals troupe,

manjiro sano- grumpy girl x sunshine boy,

: any mistakes will either be left unedited or will be edited when I do so, english is not my native language so be warned, I do not support plagiarism, do not steal my works, mentions of female reader in my head but not to worry it's all gender neutral, if used she/her pronounce it's because I imagine the reader as a female I apologize for that :

"a beauty just like your melody..." :

: itoshi rin is someone who's known to be cold and reserved to most others, some find him to be unapproachable and some find his demeanor is intimidating and some admire him for his talents, achievements and his hard work which makes it hard to believe he had someone to begin with..but he did and it was with one of the most talented guitarist in the whole school [name]. no one knew what was going on between them but some just assume they were just close friends since childhood but little did they know the two of them had a little thing going on,

it was after school, there they were one strumming their guitar while the other listened to their playing. the teal eyed man had his gaze on them so mesmerized at their beauty. once they finished [name] felt like they were being stared at so they giggled and looked at him. "did you enjoy the song or was your mind occupied somewhere else?" rin was unfazed but he let out a small chuckle which was very rare. "yk I love you right?" they were taken aback but laughed. "more than soccer?" the boy rolled his eyes "I hate to admit but I do love you more than soccer" :

"I hate you...I hate myself for that too"

: Everyone knew the hatred [name] held for akabane karma and I think it goes the same way for him as well, they were rivals since junior high even. [name] hated that red headed boy for everything, how he was better than him in most things, how cocky he gets, his behavior. basically everything. what made them hate despise him more was that he was always either one or two above her. it was time where mid years were about to come, [name] was in the library studying and it was late at night, by now no one was in the library except them and the librarian. They were getting tired and their mood was ruined. what made it worse was when they heard that voice.

"Oh well you look at that, it's miss perfect studying" that annoying voice rang in their head. "What do you want akabane?" she said with a hoarse voice. "In fact what are you even doing here," the boy studied [name]'s face and how visibly tired she looked. "Just returning a book...you should get a break you know and try and not get too worked out?" They scoffed. "I'm serious...you shouldn't get worked up," [name] glared at him. "Why the fuck do you care?" The boy was getting annoyed by their stubborn behavior. "Well believe it or not I'm not a dick like how you see me to be," he yelled. Lucky for them the librarian didn't hear "I hate you...I hate you I fucking do. I hate how you always manage to one up me, how you don't care about what people say to you, how you don't care about fitting it...I hate you and I hate myself for that" [name] admitted. The boy was taken aback. "Well believe it or not I don't hate you....I never did so let's start a new beginning for me and you?" He sat down beside you and smiled "I'd..I'd like that.."

"You're always so grumpy cheer up!"

: sano manjiro, [name] did not know how they got together in the first place because in the beginning of the year they were complaining about how immature Mikey is and how he keeps skipping class. they also complained how he is in a gang which isn't really good but now here they are together with him. At first [name] found him intimidating and everything but after getting to know him he was basically just such a big baby and pain to deal with. In their relationship they're basically the grumpy one one in the relationship.

"[Name] let's get dorayaki!" Mikey says ecstatic while the girl was not in the mood at the moment. "No please let's not I'm too tired for this Mikey!" She complains. "Come on loosen up" he drags her to his motorcycle. "Mikey don't you dare drive at an insane spee-! Mikey!" From afar draken and Emma were laughing at their odd relationship. "Those two are really something aren't they ken?" Draken laughed. "they really are"

Authors note:

my favorite characters <3 but if you ask me between all my favorites karma will always have a special place in my heart ngl. You don't know how much I love assassination classroom to this day. It will always have a small special place in my heart and I honestly don't mind that at all.

sincerely your dear author !

-Arxx/Hasinah.

All rights reserved do not plagiarize !

[stil-lindigo]

Hey, I just wanted to share something with you, as someone who's so invested in the Palestine conflict, I hope it might inspire hope, even a little.

I was born and live in Egypt, a very conservative and religious country. These days I deleted my Tiktok and rarely ever use Twitter, as I'm in my senior year, and seeing the constant deaths and torture was getting into me so much that I couldn't even eat or drink properly, nevertheless properly study. I honestly am not proud of myself for doing so, but there's comfort in the fact Egypt is so Pro-Palestine. There's a lot to be done, and even for people like me, we can help.

My school has been donating food, clothes and blankets to Palestine. The McDonald's in here have been trying to distance themselves, claiming they're "100% Egyptian", only to get mocked and insulted. I go by the local McDonald's, there's a lot of schools where I am, around 5 in two blocks, and where before they were constantly so full, these days they're so empty. I can only see maybe 3, 4 people in there. A lot of people in my school are on a complete strike, against every American product. We've resorted to buying and getting local products instead. Egypt is doing very poorly economically at the moment, but there's still a lot of effort into knocking out American products, even if not by the companies, by the youth and the children. I can't go a single class without one of my teachers openly supporting Palestine. My Arabic teacher constantly uses the people in Gaza to teach me grammar, calling them brave and courageous. My geography teacher denies Isreal, and has been in league with others to get more donations and aid. Egyptians believe so truly that Palestine will be free that it's hard not to think so too. I've had classmates openly agree that if they could, they'd join the army to help fight for Palestine, I've seen more people than ever mocking the current regime, I've seen more people than ever falling out of the American illusion and seeing it for what it is. I've spent a lot of religion classes being taught Arabic brotherhood and chivalry, when previously, the lessons were stereotypically conservative in nature and I used to despise them for it.

Yes, the government sucks like every other, but there's an air of open support in here. No one is losing their jobs for stating the truth, homes and shops are waving the Palestinian flag. Even the antisemitism, which was rampant, has seen a noticeable decline. People in here stand for Palestine.

I want to also let you know you've been an inspiration for people, or at least, to me. I want to be able to participate more, and I see your reposts and reblogs and I want to do even more than what I did at the start, which was retweeting and reposting and sharing what I can to my friends. Unfortunately due to my current living situation and my terrible memory, I missed being able to donate to the school, but they have stated to open up donations again soon, and I'm preparing in advance for that one. I was not raised Zionist, but I was raised warned against participating in political affairs, saying I'd be put in more trouble, and even could be killed. But I see you and I see so many Americans losing their jobs and being branded criminals and as moral failures for speaking out, and I find it harder and harder in me not to also speak out. And even if I'm not constantly retweeting and reposting, there is something I can do. You helped me realize that, and I'd like to thank you.

I hope this cheers you up even a little, I've noticed your posts these days expressing how much this has been upsetting you. It's been upsetting to all of us, and I want you to know that it's not fruitless, no matter how many western countries and how many bootlickers make you feel otherwise. This ordeal has taught me the world is a brotherhood, politics and money are never a reason for why we should not stand together, and why we shouldn't speak for those having their voice silenced.

Please excuse me if something comes off wrong or unnatural. Like I said, I was born and I live in Egypt, English is not my first language and I still have issues communicating my personal thoughts in it. Please never don't stand for Palestine. Please never lose hope for it, like the Egyptians never have and never will. Please never let people make you feel hopeless and insane.

Thank you for listening to me, thank you for caring about Palestine when it would've been easy not to. Thank you for using your platform, and if you found it in you to read this thing, thank you for giving time to a brown Arab, when the world so strongly encourages you not to. Please continue to inspire justice, and I hope the world one day continues to inspire hope for you.

😭 anon, I cant explain how much I appreciate you sending this message. I know there is hope for Palestinian liberation, I know that we will see freedom for Palestine. But god do I need the reminder sometimes that we aren’t all just shouting into the void. My country of Australia shamefully takes a cowardly stance on Palestine, always deferring to the US to guide our foreign policy, and yet always claims moral superiority over other countries such as yours. Thank you, really thank you so much for sending this message. I feel so so honoured to have earned an audience that includes you. I believe an audience does reflect an artist, and to know I have done you proud in any way makes me feel full.

And please don’t ever feel ashamed of your English, you are eloquent and have a wonderful, compassionate voice, and you have inspired hope in me for yet another day.

[anthonsgi]

★’･ﾟ:｡･:*:First kiss with HSR characters PT.1:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

【Note: Hello! I haven't written anything in a while, but I recently got a surge of motivation, so why not take advantage of that? :) There will be a few parts because I want to write for many characters and the process of writing each one is really long for me so I prefer to spread them out a bit, so if the character you would like to read about isn't here, keep an eye out for future parts, perhaps I will include them there! As per usual, English isn't my first language and I'm learning as I go, please be patient with me. Requests are open! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧】

【Pairings: Kafka, Argenti, Blade x GN!Reader】

【CW: I may have added some angst here and there, but I couldn't resist (I tried to end it with a good, slightly bittersweet conclusion each time though)! I wanted to make the characters' traits as similar to the game's as possible, but a few things may still be out of character, sorry in advance!】

a lil note: this is literally just all of these characters being absolutely SMITTEN for you and them fawning over you, but every day is a good day to get praised left and right, no?

☆〜KAFKA〜☆

It shouldn't be much of a surprise that you fell in love with this young and exceptionally charming woman. As a Stellaron Hunter, she ensures that Elio's predicted plans are carried out. That being said, you were a completely unpredicted element in a series of missions; there was never a mention of you ever being included in situations that you always found yourself stuck in. Kafka always saw it as "the usual result of the unforeseen nature of destiny," as she liked to explain to you.

After a while of simple acquaintance, she has grown more fond of you than she has of anyone. Not only were you beautiful in her eyes, which was a big thing for a connoisseur of beauty such as herself, but she felt at ease with you. She may be a sly, unbothered criminal whose prize for capturing her is enough to provide many good-lived lives for a bunch of Vidyadharas, but she actually really appreciates the times when she doesn't feel like she's being chased by people or by time itself.

Being with you was as enjoyable as studying the waves—a peaceful activity, a thought-provoking process. She desired to look at the horizon and discover more than meets the eye, however, it was quite impossible. The job of a Stellaron Hunter is challenging not only because of the relentless pursuit of destiny and the never-ending dangers but also because it entails never staying in one place for too long, never forming more meaningful connections, and never attaching yourself to finite, frail matters. Even though she knew she was more unlikely to run into the same individual twice as a Devil Hunter than she was now, her options were usually limited.

Kafka isn't one to fully hide her true feelings; she spoke very highly of you, your way of being and thinking, your appearance, and your tendency to be the miracle of one's destiny (*cough* talking about herself there). She has developed a habit of complimenting you just to see you squirm away from her gaze and bite your lower lip to try and stop a smile from forming. These occurrences weren't rare; they always followed the same pattern: she said something = you discreetly reacted = she noticed and couldn't stop noticing.

A kiss from her would be more of an indication of her love than a reveal, showing rather than declaring it. It may have happened during one of your late-night chats where you slowly opened up to one another, or it could have happened in the early morning after she invited herself into your home after you had just woken up and weren't sure if you were still asleep. In any case, without having said much, she leaned in, rested her hand on your cheek, and left a tender and delicate kiss on your lips. It didn't last long, but it meant more than a decade of stolen glances and conversations with hidden meanings.

It didn't feel like a goodbye kiss, it never did, but it was clear it was some form of leaving you wanting more, leaving you yearning for her to come back and see you again, and leaving you wondering how long it would be before she does it once more.

☆〜ARGETNTI〜☆

Knight of Beauty, a follower of the fallen Aeon Idrila. He's constantly on the journey to honor the principles of beauty itself, spreading the grace of his Goddess all over the universe. Discovering numerous forms of beauty in the ordinary and in the extraordinary. When he first laid his eyes on you, it was as if time began to bend around you, a black hole in which the concept of time didn't seem to exist, trapping anyone and everyone residing in its proximity.

Recognizing refinement in people was second nature to him, admiring their souls that mirrored their personalities and beliefs. He wished nothing more than to convey compassion to those who possessed honorable qualities, pure hearts, and desirable traits. Your beauty shone with such radiance that it put the stars to shame; your existence was an excellent reminder of Idrila's presence in the universe.

To Argenti, love is a miraculous feeling that is a joy to experience; it reflects a person's deepest desires and is an act of care so poetic that it almost brings a tear to the eye. In a way, having never experienced it before and having no opportunity to try due to his commitment to traversing in solitude, he decided it wasn't he who was supposed to feel it and that he was merely destined to admire the beauty of it from afar.

Meeting you meant the world to him; you made him feel love for another person for the first time—the all-consuming love from every classical novel he had read. The purest form of it is tragic love, one that breaks down the foundations that hold one's life in perfect balance. He spent several days and nights with you, staying in one location longer than he ever did since becoming a knight—the place where he started to ponder his destiny and his vocation.

He made every effort to push these thoughts away, thinking such things felt like a violation of the universal code of chivalry he upholds, yet when he gazed at your gentle smile as he held your hand, it was a tougher battle than that of a wax candle facing the sun. He was melting into a pitiful puddle as your very being formed him again, never to be the same as before.

One beautiful night, when the birds had gone to sleep, no expectations were laid forth, and no secrets were to be unveiled, Argenti took you by both hands, kissing each knuckle as if they would break if he put pressure on them. He spoke of you as if you were the one he had devoted his life to worshiping, his lips singing silent praises; perhaps it was a prayer, perhaps an apology. His eyes met yours, a nonverbal plea, and you leaned in, connecting your mouths in a passionate kiss, electricity coursing between each soft teeth clashing.

What an outstanding farewell kiss that was. The thought alone made you gulp down the lump growing in your throat. Argenti has to leave, or rather, ought to leave; otherwise, he's afraid he may decide to stay. He's certain your paths will cross one day; it's just the way of the world. Either way, he always finds himself drifting towards beauty. Behind him, he will leave a timeless tale of a wounded and repaired heart, as well as a dose of fate that makes no mistakes.

☆〜BLADE〜☆

The undying man who became a blade, a shell of a person, a mara-stricken monster with no hope for craved demise. His story is one of endless agony and misery. In this everlasting life, Blade's abilities are used in matters including bloodshed, spreading the pain he felt himself, and only then would he feel himself disappear, even for a moment. As bitter as that was, it was reality, his burden to bear. Blade didn't have "companionships" and never needed attachments. The closest he had to an acquaintance was Kafka, whose voice managed to calm the monsters who grew inside him relentlessly, and possibly Silver Wolf. However, he didn't understand her, nor did he wish to.

How you were able to capture his wounded heart remains a forever-unsolved mystery. He, of course, didn't decide one day that the way you laughed made him feel emotions so intense that he wondered if what he was feeling was some form of suffering he'd never experienced previously or that his intensified urge to protect you wasn't just due to the fact he was always nearby when danger struck, but because he genuinely cared. It was a lengthy process imbued with a myriad of understatements and denial. An "I love you" leaving his lips was as bizarre as the prospect of hell freezing over... yet when it did happen, you only wished to hear it again.

He frequently wonders why he finds himself faintly grinning primarily in your presence alone (and obviously during combat). When you resided in his vicinity, everyone could feel a shift in the atmosphere surrounding him, as well as a change in his usual behavior. It was almost comical to observe, especially to his fellow Stellaron Hunters, who never missed an opportunity to tease him. Nonetheless, love expressed by a presumably loveless man is as fascinating as it is arduous. Your existence was curative, helping him to rediscover parts of humanity he thought he had lost, yet healing is a part of him he has come to loathe with every fiber of his being. At one point, he distanced himself, as if limiting your healing influence on him was the sole thing that he could control about his 'condition'.

That didn't last long, and he scurried back to you like a moth to a flame. Blade didn't grasp the concept of physical touch as a kind of comfort; it never failed to remind him of how many times he had been hurt. You, once again, were the exception. Gentle arm touches, random lacing of fingers, your scent, and that insufferable (not really) look in your eyes whenever you stared at him drew him in. As much as he despised life, he did not detest the idea of living simply to be with you; that paradise that always seemed to be out of his reach, a mere push away, appeared to be standing right in front of him.

A minor brush of your body against his made you excited, but a kiss? It's overwhelming to even imagine. You'd have to initiate it, subtly steering the conversation to a topic where it wouldn't be too odd to inquire about moving to the next step in your relationship, acting as lovers. If Blade didn't wear a stoic expression on his face more than half the time, you could tell by his nervous swallowing that he would be at least blushing a little. He wasn't an adolescent, and he didn't think of a kiss as the grandest gesture of intimacy; nevertheless, that didn't free him of hesitations. Being vulnerable and helpless in the hands of another, all of his shortcomings could be easily revealed.

Kissing Blade had to come naturally when you were alone and indulging in small talk; there was no need for a perfectly timed gust of wind or a captivating blanket of stars above, just two imperfect people pouring all of their desires, yearning, and passion into a single imperfect kiss. Your lips met, linking your souls and creating a sensible spark deep within. There was no distance between you, and you were both entirely defenseless against the other's will. After you moved away, it was as if a thousand sentences were pulled from your mouths, yet no one spoke a word. With swollen lips, you were unable to resist a grin while Blade leaned in for another kiss.

lil ending note: hope you enjoyed! also, I have to mention that I know that both Kafka and Blade are Stellaron Hunters so the main problem portrayed in Kafka's part (the never being in one place too long) could potentially be brought up In Blade's part as well, but I decided that would be pretty repetitive so I wrote about Blade's history instead :D