#like how did this random hate page find me???

[blustainedfingertips]

Not the random Giorgia hate page trying to follow me on Instagram, like hello that is not AT ALL what I am all about, I love that woman

[comicaurora]

I heard you talking on a recent OSPod about Hades, and as someone who very much can get ADHD-yoinked into games, it got me curious, but I'm...not great at video games and have found Dark Souls-y games where you try over and over and keep failing at the same task kind of frustrating. How's your Hades experience been in those regards? (although I'm not sure your general game skill)

Hades feels like it's really carefully designed to circumvent those frustrations.

I also hate the feeling of lost progress, which had me wary about playing a roguelite defined by constantly trying and mostly failing, but by far the most helpful part of the game design is that Zagreus also hates it, so it feels like the game and I are on the same page about it.

It also helps that most of the actual, tangible progress in the game is bound up in advancing the character arcs, which isn't a totally skill-free experience since it involves finding a couple characters out in the underworld, but a lot of it can be done back in the House of Hades, so every time you lose and die you can run around having conversations with everyone, almost all of which will be new and unique and advance your arc with them. If a character doesn't have a new interaction for you, you usually just can't find them on the floor, so there's very little time-wasting.

Speaking of, there's a lot of advancement that can only be done in the House of Hades, and a lot of it involves resources you can actively choose to seek out on runs. I did a couple runs today where my only goal was getting the last of a specific olympian's Boons so I could fill out their Minor Prophecy achievement and reap the rewards, and everything after that was just a bonus. This means the game is passively encouraging the player to develop secondary objectives beyond just making it to the end of the game again. It also helps that making it to the end of the game basically just gives you a weapon-unlocking resource and another small slice of conversation with [EXTREMELY OLD SPOILERS] so while it feels important, and is necessary for advancing towards the true ending of the game, it's not so overwhelmingly rewarding that you feel absolutely crushed when the final boss takes you out halfway through his second healthbar again.

You also benefit very greatly from not playing the game the same way twice - using new weapons or adding new challenge modes is the only way to re-acquire the unique boss rewards for the three main regions of the underworld, instead of the more generic resources that replace the unique ones after you win them for the first time, which means instead of feeling like you need to optimize a winning build and then use it every time, you're encouraged to play with the other weapons that you might find unwieldy or annoying, and if you manage to beat even the first boss with them, you'll be disproportionately rewarded. Also, on every run a random weapon will be empowered to give you bonus resources if you choose to use it, so even if you're a strictly melee-only main you might find yourself willing to figure out how to use the bow in exchange for the extra gems. The Boons you get also dramatically change the strategy you're likely to naturally fall into over the course of fighting your way out - some builds are extremely melee-based, others just boost your ranged abilities to the point that you can mostly just dash around the battlefield while your Casts chew through everyone's healthbar at top speed. So when you reach the final boss, you're not going to be using the same strategies, and even if you lose, it feels less like you had a skill issue and more like you've learned something to look out for or try out next time around. The final boss's strategies and moves don't change either, so you'll know what to expect every time even as your own moveset might be completely different from run to run.

In my personal experience, I have a pretty good feel for when a game is disappointed in my performance. Nothing says "the designers didn't expect you to get stuck here" like endlessly looping dialogue or not-so-subtle hints that you can knock down the difficulty if you need to. Hades has thus far done this to me very little, and only in specific areas - even if I'm no longer getting unique banter with Theseus every time I kick his ass, I'm still having unique conversations with Asterius in the same region and it doesn't feel like I'm anywhere near done with the dialogue back in the House. Zagreus's dialogue when he enters the same three boss arenas will also randomly go from seemingly-interchangeable lines of "yep it's this boss again" to much more unique angles that legitimately change the game from then on. Yesterday, after killing the bone hydra something like a dozen times, he randomly decided to nickname it Lernie, and now he consistently calls it Lernie and every time I kill it the victory banner says "LERNIE VANQUISHED". Today he got Tisiphone to say his name instead of just "murderer" all the time. The game knows you're going to be fighting these guys a lot, and this tells me I haven't outstayed my welcome in the anticipated main timeline of gameplay.

If I have a frustration, it's that I'm not always sure that what I'm doing is advancing the character plotlines, and you can only talk to a character once on any given visit to the House. The game kind of helps you out here, your little information codex will tell you stuff like "Learn more by having X more conversations with this character" or "learn more by deepening your relationship with this character" but it can still be pretty vague and opaque. There's no dialogue trees, Zagreus basically just says what he wants, so when, for instance, Achilles indicates that I should talk to Nyx about maybe getting Orpheus's deal with Hades undone, it's a little frustrating that I can't then go over to Nyx and ask her about that. Or, in fact, ask her about it at all in any of the dozen runs I've done since that nugget got dropped. It's not a game-breaker, but it is a little frustrating. On the other hand, this is clearly intentional, because this means you're tempted to get back into a run as quickly as possible, because then when you die more conversations will have unlocked back at the house - but also, to deincentivize just running out and dying on purpose to get those dialogues going, there are some characters who will only appear in the House if you get far enough into the run to deal with them, and certain characters whose arcs and dialogue only advance if you find and talk to their missing loved ones out on the run. So you'll always have something new back at the House, but you're strongly encouraged to get as far as you can before you die, because the farther you get, the more you'll have to do when you get back.

The game is basically designed to never, ever make you want to sit still. You can quickly exhaust everything there is to do in the house, and that makes you want to go out on a run and see what new things will happen. Then while you're on the run you have the benefit of randomization keeping things interesting and making you make plans for the next time you encounter a given character. It's got a good rhythm to it!

[heybatterbats]

I’ve been seeing entirely too many posts about how ace-spec people aren’t really LGBTQ+ and don’t belong at Pride. And I got mad about it. So…*aces your Batfamily*

Yes, all of them. Every last one is now ace-spec in some way. They even named their dog Ace.

Bruce is sex-neutral biromantic demisexual, and came out by accident at age 24 to a random reporter who was not expecting it. This sparked a social media storm that was only halted by the much bigger social media storm of Bruce adopting Dick.

The Batman has been asked his sexuality before. Bruce replied- perfectly straight faced- that the Batman is an asexually reproductive entity and creates its Robins via mitosis. A third of Gotham, most of Metropolis, and several members of the Justice League still believe this.

Dick is sex-repulsed biromantic asexual, and is of the type to make the dirtiest jokes you’ve ever heard because sex is a joke to him. Came out in the form of an acrobatics performance he did at a pride parade, wearing a terrible Batman costume with a bi heart as the Batsymbol, an ace flag cape, and no pants. The audience was ecstatic. Bruce was mortified.

Nightwing has never said his sexuality, but anyone who claims he’s straight is quickly met with pictures of the Discowing suit and up to a dozen laughing emojis.

Jason is sex-repulsed aromantic asexual. He’s not as vocal about it as Dick is, but he does like it to be known. He’s the type to make garlic bread/cake/world domination jokes. And ESPECIALLY dragon jokes. He kinda tends to just insert it casually into conversation, he didn’t do anything crazy to come out. It’s just a fact about him.

Red Hood claims to be sexually attracted exclusively to guns. Bruce hates this joke.

Tim is the opposite of Bruce- he’s sex-positive bisexual demiromantic. One of the few Batkids to come out while in costume- he got a concussion on a case and blearily mumbled into Bruce’s hair that he’s “you but backwards” and completely confused Bruce. Tim is a little shy about his identity, but since dating Bernard he’s been more open about it.

Red Robin is out as bisexual, but hasn’t added demiromantic to that. Tim is worried people will piece his secret identity together, since Tim doesn’t realize that most normal people are not highly skilled detectives who can tell a person’s identity from a single acrobatics move.

At the moment, Damian just thinks he’s feeling the normal “ew cooties” that most children do. In the future he’ll realize that he’s sex-repulsed ace/aro, although he’ll refuse to use those terms in favor of broodily muttering “this bloodline dies with me.” Ra’s has an actual heart attack the first time Damian says this to his face and has to go into the Lazarus Pit to recover. Talia has never been more proud.

Barbara is sex-neutral, demiromantic and asexual. She’s more outspoken about it than most of the family, and runs social media pages about disability and the asexuality spectrum alike. Aphobes and ableists that make the mistake of leaving comments often mysteriously find that their most embarrassing search histories have been sent to their grandmother.

Cass is sex-repulsed ace/aro. Steph was the one to explain sexuality to her, and also made her an ace ring. Cass told Bruce first, then the rest of the family. She’s never come out publicly- Cass doesn’t like media attention being on her- but some sharp-eyed Gothamites who are looking can spot the black ring on Cassandra Cain-Wayne’s middle finger in a few paparazzi shots the papers got their hands on. (I have a fic about this!)

Black Bat has never been asked her sexuality, mainly because she’s absolutely terrifying and nobody can stammer out the words when faced with her.

Stephanie is sex-positive graysexual grayromantic, and absolutely not shy about it. She’s almost as good as Dick at making horrible, filthy jokes. Has punched a guy in the face for aphobia, does not regret it. Stephanie is out and proud and loud about it.

Spoiler/Batgirl III have both been seen wearing a rainbow flag as a cape too many times for anyone to assume they’re straight.

Duke is sex-neutral demisexual/demiromantic, and is probably the most open about it of the whole Batfamily. He’s fully out and so is Signal, and will inevitably show up at any daytime Pride event just to say hi. Gotham adores him, and he’s practically the ace-spec community’s mascot. Can and will use the entire rainbow spectrum of light to create various pride flags over Gotham whenever he feels like it, and has started taking flag/location requests. Once turned the Batsignal gay.

Harper is sex-positive bisexual aromantic, and where Stephanie is loud about it, Harper gets violent. She carries a souped-up taser and doesn’t hesitate to use it. Has knocked at least four homophobes/aphobes out cold not counting the ones she beat up in the Narrows. Bluebird is not only publicly out as bisexual but wears two out of three bisexual colors, and while it’s not come up publicly yet, she won’t hide that she’s aromantic either. Along with Signal and Spoiler, Bluebird is one of the vigilantes that’s known for being specifically good at handling LGBTQ+ issues. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

After being forcibly outed as gay and then bullied for it, Cullen is still in the closet about the fact that he’s asexual and sex-repulsed, too. The first person he told after Harper was Alfred. By now the whole family knows, but they’ve been careful to keep it away from the media until Cullen’s ready to come out himself.

Alfred is sex-neutral, aromantic, and pansexual, though he’s older than some of those terms and doesn’t often use them to describe himself. Bruce didn’t know Alfred was anything but straight until he was almost seventeen, to which Alfred replied- signature eyebrow raise at full height capacity- that he had a career in the theater, Master Bruce, and no one who does that can possibly be typical in matters of orientation or any other aspect of life.

The outfit might seem antithetical to this, but Selina is ace too! Specifically, she’s sex-positive, heteroromantic and demisexual. The leather outfit is primarily for distraction purposes rather than true sex appeal. When it comes to Bruce, however, Selina’s more than once described herself as “morosexual.” Bruce, bless him, still has no idea what that means.

There ya go. Ace-spec Batfam. Happy Pride to everyone but especially all you fellow ace-spec folks who absolutely, 100% belong there.

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

ೃ⁀➷ look at me! look at me!

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing…

right?

fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.

when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards

but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless

with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)

no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure

rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)

eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over

unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior

the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing

you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)

you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you

you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on

tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO

when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)

one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.

when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man

let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around

in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits

he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements

he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him

you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry… right?

but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on

he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)

once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work

he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse

and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks

you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply

but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it

no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch

eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz

he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is

at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model

little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for

whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.

you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere

he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look

he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself

you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city

despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough

and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness

when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests

you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing

he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading

he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol

you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization

he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell

he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state

you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children

you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: wowza that was a lot 😵‍💫

y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml

i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‼️

if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh 🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[redroomreflections]

Before She Cheats Part 4 - The Final Part

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha attempts to talk with Cara after she and R break the news they're divorcing.

The Loud House Universe

note: more angst

Before she cheats part 4

w/c:2k

It's night now and Cara hasn't come out of her bedroom. You'd put the children to bed separately and now it was time to say goodnight. You didn't bother saying anything to Natasha. You headed into your office, softly closing the door behind you, to get an ounce of alone time. Natasha stood at the top of the stairs, debating whether to go up there and talk to Cara. She's not sure how to fix this. She's not sure how to make things better between them. She understands it. Truly she does. Cheating on you wasn't something she did intending to hurt you. Although, the alternative would have been better. The children's reactions to what she'd done would be forever etched into her brain.

Finally, with a deep breath, Natasha makes a decision. She won't just leave Cara without saying goodbye. She trails up the stairs, her heart heavy, before she walks over to the bedroom where light is still shining underneath the hinges.

Natasha knocks, but Cara doesn't respond.

"Cara, honey?" Natasha's voice is small. She opens the door, finding the teen curled up in her bed with her headphones in. Natasha can't help but smile at the sight of her daughter. Even through her anger and frustration, her baby is still here. Cara doesn't move. She's not asleep yet. It's like she can feel her presence in the room.

"I don't want you here," Cara says dejectedly. Her eyes never look up from the book she's been reading. As a spy, it's in Natasha to notice she hadn't been reading at all. She's simply staring at the pages, not absorbing anything.

"I know," Natasha admits. "But, I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

"Goodbye," Cara spits.

"Cara,"

"Goodnight, Natasha," She corrects.

"It's Mama,"

"No, it's not," Cara shakes her head. She finally puts the book down and meets Natasha's eyes. "You're not my mom anymore. My mom wouldn't do what you did. She wouldn't betray our family."

"Cara,"

"Leave me alone," Cara asks. She pulls the blankets up a little further.

"I know you're angry..." Natasha begins. That's where she fumbles. What is she supposed to say? How is she supposed to make this up to her? To the other children. To you?

"I don't wanna hear anything you have to say," Cara rolls over, facing the opposite way.

"I know,"

"Then leave."

"I'm not leaving without saying goodbye," Natasha shakes her head.

"You already said it," Cara shouts. She's mindful that her siblings may be sleeping. "I told you I don't want to talk about this anymore. Why can't you just respect that?"

"Cara, I'm sorry," Natasha offers. She knows it's not enough.

"You're a fucking cheater," Cara accuses.

"I know," Natasha's eyes water.

"You don't even care," Cara frowns. "I want you to go. Go, get out of my room." Cara stands and for a moment, Natasha doesn't recognize the child she's looking at. Cara has a history of outbursts and minimal violence, but it's never been directed towards either of you.

"Cara, no, stop," Natasha warns.

"Go."

"I'm not going anywhere." Natasha's voice raises. She takes a deep breath and tries again. "We aren't fighting."

"What if I want to?" Cara sizes her up.

"Don't," Natasha shakes her head.

"Mom wouldn't let you just walk away like this,"

"Mom isn't here," Natasha points out.

"She's downstairs," Cara nods.

"I know," Natasha nods again. "Tell me what you're feeling. I can take it."

"I hate you," Cara spits.

Natasha remains silent. Even when Cara's words are followed by rough pushes against her body. She doesn't back down. She also doesn't allow Cara to hit her either.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," Cara shouts. "You fucked some random chick and ruined everything."

"Cara, that's enough," Natasha tries.

"You made my brother cry," Cara shouts.

"I know,"

"You made Charlie have an anxiety attack," Cara's voice raises. "She's too little. She can't handle stuff like that."

"I'm aware." Natasha's jaw clenches.

"You did that. You did that. You did that," Cara begins to repeat. "You did that." She shoves her mother again and again. She pushes her and Natasha lets her. "You did that." Cara slams her fists into Natasha's chest. Natasha lets her.

"Mom wouldn't just let me punch her," Cara says.

"What do you suggest I do? If it's making you feel better," Natasha weighs the options. "Is it making you feel better?"

"No," Cara shakes her head. She steps back and takes a deep breath. Her shoulders heave and her eyes are red. Tears pour down her cheeks. For a moment, Natasha can tell she wants to apologize but she holds it in.

"You're so mean," Cara cries.

"I know."

"You ruined everything,"

"I did," Natasha nods.

"I hate you," Cara crosses her arms over her chest.

"I know,"

"Stop saying that,"

"You are entitled to your feelings. You have a right to feel how you feel," Natasha tells her. "You have a right to be angry and you have a right to express your anger."

"What if I don't want to," Cara asks. "What if I don't want to fight you? What if I just want you to go away and never come back?"

"I can't do that,"

"Well, I can't forgive you." Cara frowns. "You hurt my mom. You broke her heart. I can see it. I've seen it all week and I didn't say anything but you made her different. She's not the same. You're not the same to me."

"What can I do?" Natasha tries.

"Nothing," Cara shakes her head. "There's nothing. You did this. I don't want you in my room anymore."

"Cara, wait,"

"I want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving until you calm down," Natasha reasons.

"I am calm."

"This isn't calm." Natasha looks her over.

"I'm calm," Cara repeats. "I'm calm. I'm calm. I'm calm." Cara begins to pace with her fists balled up. "You won't even listen to me."

"Of course, I'm listening,"

"You're not. You're just gonna stand there and let me yell at you."

"You can't yell at your mom," Natasha reminds her. "I know you, Cara. If you're not directing it at me it will go to her and she doesn't deserve that."

"You don't get to decide what she deserves," Cara shakes her head. "You threw all of that out of the window. Unlike you, I would never hurt her."

"Cara,"

"That's what she is now. My mom. Mine. She's nothing to you. You have no claim on her. You gave that up when you cheated."

"I'm still her wife."

"You don't deserve her. You're disgusting. You're a terrible person."

"You're right,"

"Stop saying that," Cara shakes her head.

"Okay,"

"Get out,"

"I can't do that."

Cara lets out a throaty scream from deep within her. It's an angry scream.

"I'll give you some some space on one condition," Natasha relents.

"I want space," Cara nods.

"You have to promise not to hit or yell at your mother."

"I told you I wouldn't you don't listen," Cara whines. She seems so much smaller now.

Natasha makes the slightest movement to leave and Cara is ranting again.

"You promised I was safe here," She began. "You promised me we were a family. When I got adopted you promised so many things and you just lied about it all."

"That's still true," Natasha assured her. “I didn’t lie.”

"How could you just throw us away? Do you not love me?"

"I love you very much,"

"Then how could you hurt Mom and me and James and Charlie and Luke and Paige," Cara demands. She defeatedly sits atop her bed. She truly doesn't understand. She's a child.She’s still a child that wants her family. 

"I can't fix it,"

"No, because you did it."

"Yes,"

"You can't fix it because you're a liar. You're a bad person."

"I am," Natasha agrees.

"Get out,"

"Okay," Natasha relents. She turns to leave, walking back towards the door. She didn't want to leave her like this. She knew it wouldn't get better. Natasha turns to find you in the doorway. Your face is free of makeup and freshly washed. Your eyes are slightly red but you look serene and calm. How much of this had you heard?

"I can stay if you need,"

"I said leave," Cara cries.

"Cara," You take a deep breath and slowly step into the room.

"Mom, can you get her out of here," Cara pleads. "I don't want her here anymore." Natasha moves to hold onto her. She truly doesn't want to leave her like this.

"Natasha, you've done enough," You warn.

"Okay," Natasha nods. "I will be at the compound. I will come tomorrow to take the kids to school."

"We don't need you," Cara's voice cracks.

"I understand," Natasha says. "But I will still be here for you."

"Fuck off," Cara shouts. 

This time Natasha listens. She walks out of the room and out of your life. Not for good. No, she'd be back. She loves her children too much to leave them. Even after Cara has begged her to go. You redirect your attention to Cara. "I want it to stop hurting. I hate her."

"I know, baby," You grab a hold of her and pull her into bed to sit beside you.

"How do I make it stop?"

"I wish I could tell you," You kiss her forehead. "I need you to calm down. I know you're upset. We can talk about all of it, but I need you to calm down."

"How are you okay? She cheated on you. She broke up our family." Cara presses her face into your chest. She needs that extra comfort.

"I know, sweetheart," You stroke her hair. "I'm not okay. Trust me, I'm not. For you, for your sisters and brothers, I have to be. Eventually, it will hurt less."

"Do you promise,"

"It won't go away, but it will get easier," You tell her. "I will always love her. That will never change. It's going to be okay."

"Why aren't you mad?" Cara wonders.

"I'm furious," You assure her.

"Then why did you let her in here?"

"Because she wanted to say goodbye,"

"She doesn't deserve to,"

"I know," You soothe her with a kiss on her head.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Whatever you guys want,"

"Why don't you hate her too?"

"I don't think I ever could," You confess.

"Why?"

"You can't choose who you love," You tell her.

"If you could go back in time, would you still love her?"

"I would," You hesitate. "It brought me you. It brought me the others. It brought me so much happiness. It gave me my life."

"Even if you knew she'd hurt you?"

"I don't know," You shake your head.

"I wish she didn't do that," Cara wipes her tears away. "Sex is so confusing. Sex is supposed to be with someone you love. I know I don't know everything but it's supposed to be all of these things and she just did that with some random woman and..." Cara sniffles. "I don't understand any of this. I don't understand it but I don't want to see her. I'll take the train to school. I don't want to be around her."

"I won't force you," You reply.

"She's not my mama," Cara shakes her head. Her tears flow down her cheeks.

"She's still yours, baby,"

"She's not."

"She is," You argue. God, you hate yourself for defending her right now. "She is and she loves you. Whatever is happening between us isn't on you to figure out or hurt over. You can be angry but I don't want you to harbor this."

"How are you not mad at her?"

"I am,"

"But,"

"It doesn't make sense to you. It's okay. I need you to believe me when I tell you this," You press a kiss against her forehead. "Your Mama loves you."

"She doesn't."

"She does," You insist.

"Can we not talk about her," Cara sniffles.

"That's fine, baby," You wrap your arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. You could only hope that Natasha is satisfied with the lives she shattered. 

[mockerycrow]

Hi can I get reader giving Price “what do you mean?! of course i was going to defend you, nobody has the right to talk about you like that!” please 🥺

400 Follower Celebration

(ENDING JUNE 15TH)

—“What do you mean? Of course I was going to defend you, nobody has the right to talk about you like that!”— With John Price

Summary: You had a slip-up during a mission and everyone on base began to talk about it. Someone said something bad about your skill, and your Captain is quick to defend your honor.

[WARNINGS: fluff!]

It was a simple mistake; a slip-up. You had managed to get into a fist fight with an enemy bigger than you and they managed to get you pinned—you never got pinned in sparring, even against your bigger comrades such as Ghost. But this time, your entire team and then some witnessed your bloody face being pushed into the pavement before anyone could rip them off of you.

You had gotten back to base okay, a quick check-up in the infirmary was required due to a head injury occurring, but you were overall fine besides from bruises and scratches. You knew people were going to talk the minute you got caught off guard, and you tried to act like you didn’t care but in truth? You honestly did. You worked hard for your spot in the 141 and you were afraid maybe these rumors would cause your Captain to realize he chose the wrong person to join.

What didn’t you expect, though, is for some random recruit to go up, stuttering and nearly in tears, sputtering an apology to you. Something about saying something bad about you, that you didn’t deserve it, something about how you’re a good fighter..? Although your heart sank when you heard their apology because that confirms people were talking, but what in the hell made them so apologetic?

Price comes to find you after an hour or so, and he finds you in your room. You’re sitting there with a book in your hand, page left unread as you’ve been stuck in your thoughts. He knocks on the door, and you jolt for a moment, looking at the door. You don’t answer right away, until he says, “It’s Price.” Your heart immediately jumps into your throat, your fingers growing cold with panic. Is he here to kick you out of the team?

“Come in.” You stammer, much like your heart is in your chest. Price opens your door, his brow furrowed. You slowly close your book as you watch him close the door behind himself, and you try to prepare yourself for what you think he’s going to say next. “Are you doin’ alright?” Price’s voice is gritty but soft, his eyes scanning your face for your emotions. You can’t help but hesitate and stammer because.. why is he asking if you’re alright if he’s going to kick you out? “I.. What do you mean?”

Price waves his finger in a circle to indicate he’s talking about the base and the people who reside here. “People are talkin’, [Name]. Are you alright?” He asks again, keeping his eyes on you. You look down and take a deep breath and nod. “I’m good,” you start. “It.. It’ll pass, I guess.”

He watches you closely, the way your hands tense into fists, the way your shoulders are nearly touching your ears. “I saw that recruit talk to you. Serves ‘em right to apologize to you. At least somethin’ I said stuck with ‘em.”

That makes you pick your head up, furrowing your brows. “Hm..?”

“That tossed was spewing hateful shit about ya. I wasn’t havin’ it.”

You blink again and for some reason, tears well up in your eyes. “You.. You defended me, sir?”

Price stares at you like you have two heads. “What do you mean? Of course I was going to defend you, nobody has the right to talk about you like that!”

You feel.. embarrassed? Touched? Happy? You aren’t sure, but the can feel your muscles relax at the knowledge that Price doesn’t agree with what people are saying. You sniffle and swipe your eyes, causing Price to come closer to you. “Hey, hey—what’s going on?” He sounds worried, angry almost.

You shake your head and look at him after wiping your eyes, murmuring, “Thank you.”

[storiesoflilies]

sunday newspapers

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader.

warnings: none, just a lil fluffy piece.

a/n: series link. inspired by @teddybeartoji :3

lazy sunday mornings were the best time of the week.

she’d always wake up gently to smell of coffee, the warm aroma always making her nose crinkle, and it was almost always accompanied by the scent of toji’s newspapers. it was unique, so undeniably him, and she never had to open her eyes to know that her husband had already been up to buy her a fresh cup of steaming coffee from the convenience store around the corner, along with the sunday papers for him to peruse.

the loud rustling of toji turning over a page encouraged her to crack open the lids of her eyes just a sliver, and she croaked out a low, “mornin, baby.”

another loud rustling noise ensued, and she knew that toji was setting down his paper on the nightstand, folding it up neatly to prevent any further creases. she knew he hated whenever a big fat line haphazardly ran through the middle of whatever he was trying to read.

“morning, my love,” he mumbled, his front pressed tightly into her back as he peppered kisses over her bare arm. “how’d you sleep?”

she only hummed in response, turning around to face toji and curling up into him. it didn’t matter how many times they’d do this on a sunday, she would never, ever get sick of their routine. it was warm, soft, and theirs.

“your coffee’s gonna get cold,” toji whispered into the crook of her neck, lips brushing faintly against her skin. she shivered at the loss of his warmth as he moved to settle back onto his side of the bed.

she sat up slowly, pulling up the duvet to cover her bare chest, although she knew toji would whisk it off her in a flash as soon as he noticed. tenderly, she sipped her still-hot coffee from the paper cup and scrolled through her phone. toji huffed softly beside her, closing over his newspaper with a dramatic flare. she looked over to find him pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly squeezing his eyes shut.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, frowning, and set her phone down on her lap.

he groaned, exhaling heavily. “nothin’, sweets. just have a headache is all.”

“oh, do you want some paracetamol?”

“no, i’m good. promise.”

“you don’t look good, toji.”

toji huffed again and rolled over to her, surprising her by uncharacteristically throwing his papers onto the floor. he pulled down the duvet from her chest and settled his head right over her heartbeat. “i’m fine,” he mumbled, his breath tickling her skin.

stubborn.

she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching and massaging his scalp, and toji’s breathing slowed as he relaxed further into her touch. he would crack in just a moment; a sizzling, sputtering egg yolk on a hot, oily pan.

“it hurts me more often now,” toji finally admitted, looking up at her with those big green eyes of his, black lashes framing his orbs.

“what do you mean, more often?” she asked, alarm evident in her voice.

toji shook his head, “my head hurts. not all the time, but enough of the time.”

“wha- how long have you been feeling like this?”

“a month? maybe two.”

“well, is it just random pain?”

“i don’t know, but it’s getting worse, especially on Sundays.”

especially on sundays…

“do your eyes hurt too, by any chance?”

toji nodded silently, burying his face into her chest. “i know what you’re going to say now. that’s why i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“well, toji, maybe you should just listen! you’re always squinting when you read, i’ve told you to get reading glasses ages ago. we’re both not getting any younger, you know?” she chided gently.

so stubborn…

he only grunted in response, as if even acknowledging that statement would be admitting defeat, and toji fushiguro really did not like to lose. but even revealing to her that his head hurt was a crack in his stone foundations, a little opening for her to wiggle her way through and make him see sense.

when he unwillingly got up from the bed to go to the bathroom, she refolded his newspapers for him, went to the kitchen, got him a glass of water and two paracetamol tablets, and patiently bided her time.

exactly a week had passed, and she found herself lazily stretching, like a content cat lounging in the rays of warm sunshine through a window. the familiar smell of coffee and newspapers wafted through her nostrils, and she smiled as her eyelids fluttered open.

“mornin,” toji’s deep baritone greeted from beside her, and she smiled again as she wrapped her arms around his bicep, snuggling into his side.

“morning,” she sighed happily, peeking her eyes open to skim over what he was reading. “what’s happening in the world today?”

“hmm, everything’s shit,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“oh, it can’t be all bad, can i- oh my.”

toji looked down sharply at her, with bright ruby-red, narrow square glasses balanced in the middle of his nose. “ah ah! no.”

she stifled a giggle, biting her lip and rubbing his forearm. “i wasn-”

“ah no, not a single word.”

“bu-”

“shut it.”

a giggle escaped her lips despite her best efforts, and toji glared down at her through his glasses. it was so comical that she couldn’t help but burst into a fit of tinkling wind chime laughter, and toji’s ears turned pink.

“these were the only ones they had at the store,” he mumbled shyly, folding his paper onto his lap and taking off the glasses.

“oh, no, baby!” she cooed, taking the cheap plastic glasses from him and carefully maneuvering them back onto his face. “you’re so cute.”

she squished his cheeks between her hands and smiled sweetly as she gazed deep into her husbands eyes. this was life at its finest, those sweet sunday mornings they spent together. it didn’t matter if their smile lines were deepening or their crow’s feet made beautiful patchworks of wrinkles on their faces, or even if their eyes were starting to struggle to read and there were flecks of grey in their hair.

none of it mattered; it was still life – their life – and it would always be beautiful.

she suddenly attacked him with quick kisses all over his toji’s face, and his nose scrunched up in mock annoyance. “eugh! stop that.”

“no,” she laughed in between kisses. “you’re just too cute, i can’t resist.”

toji huffed, holding his newspaper high above in the air so her onslaught wouldn’t accidentally hurt the delicate pages. “yeah, yeah -hmph!- i love you too, sweets.”

“i love you more, mister fushiguro. especially with your red granny glasses.”

“oh, shut up.”

general taglist (open): @tadabzzzbee

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[itsyapeepkiri]

Hey @deerspherestudios!!! I finally finished the drawing!!!!! It only took 20 hours... but I hope you like it!!

This is based on Day 1, ending 1 of Mushroom Oasis, so spoilers if you don't know about it.

I'll add tags, but TW for death, bone, decomposition, decay (both human and animal), blood if you squint, body horror (???). Also, this will break your heart, so sorry, but the art gods demand tears today.

TWs UNDER CUT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Some tid bits about this project in no particularly order:

- I started this cause I thought about what it would look like if Mychael had found MC a little bit sooner (than the few weeks that it took for the body to decompose). Plus, I wanted to brush up on my anatomy skills.

- The trees were based on the image of in deerspherestudios's answer to an ask about Mychael's vision, specifically the 'bottom eyes closed' one.

- The cat is an orange tabby cause I thought it goes nice with canon green collar. The MC is based on deerspherestudios actual MC ref sheet. Mychael is deerspherestudios whole-heartedly, but I did use the outdoor outfit we see him in in the 2nd day.

- I would image that MC's and Mychael's bags are just off the page, but I just forgot to add them.

- The tree 2nd from the right was not supposed to be there. Or at least I don't think it was. I don't know how that tree got there, I swear. 😅

- My 1st hour, which ended up being a failed attempt, was based on my sleeping sibling. Then, when they woke up and took a look at my work, they mentioned that the hand was as big as the entire chest somehow. That's when I said screw it, tried to find some reference images, and ended up spending the next 1 and a half hours on a 3-D model website trying to force the pre-made models to bend to my will. After that, it went pretty smoothly. *cries in hating perspective*

- I used BiC Mark it permanent markers, an ultra fine point red Sharpie, a Sakura Pigma Micron 005 pen, some Prismacolor Premier colored pencils for details, and a random school issued yellow pencil and pink eraser to make this.

- You can't really see it, but the flowers that Mychael is holding are forget-me-nots, as a reference to the field he would have taken MC to on the 2nd day. They are also in the rough shape of a broken heart. 💔

- On that note, the mushrooms coming out of MC's eye are also shaped like a heart.

- And yes, our soft boi is crying... 😢

[rapunzelbro]

Comforting Velvette as her S/O.

So tumblr broke, this request was vanished from my profile. So to the anon who requested I’m so sorry I hope you find this The prompts were “I don’t want to be alone right now” and another I forgot. Enjoy!

Masterlist Taglist

It would take forever to establish a relationship with Velvette let's be honest here.

She doesn't want anyone to see her in a vulnerable state, she doesn't want anyone thinking she is weak and needed a partner

That was until she met you, something about you was just different to her.

You were soft spoken, minded your own business but wouldn't stay quiet when someone said something that set you off.

Like to piss you off? Man you'd set whoever pissed you off, straight and they wouldn't speak, or argue with you again.

And your designs were amazing decent.
Velvette rarely had to make any changes when it came to your sketches

And your stitch work? Fucking flawless compared to the others. Who just were you?

She would try to stalk you on social media to find out you had no account, or one she could find, with a little help from Vox she did eventually find it.

It was a completely anonymous account, with a rather decent following Like probably 10k?

Impressive but not compared to Velvette

Your account was hiding your identity by a random username that had no mention of you in the slightest, and no posts that involved photos of you. Just sketches, sheet music photos, and the occasional video of someone singing, which she assumed was you.

But what amused her more than anything, was seeing multiple sketches of her on your page.

You captured her beautifully, didn't make her look bad in any sort of way, it was so simple, but yet so beautiful.

Velvette definitely sereenshotted the sketeh

She never would have thought you admired her outside the work place. Let alone be a fucking singer too? What couldn't you do?

She'd call you into her office the next day and you'd be so fucking anxious that you fucked up somehow as you knocked on the door

"Yeah yeah come in"

You'd take a deep breath calming your nerves down before you went inside, closing the door behind you as you walked to her desk, she was still looking down at her phone

"You wanted to see me Miss?"

The second she heard your voice she looked up from her phone, placing it down and grabbing a piece of paper from the inside of her desk before placing it down

Shit

“Would you care to explain this?"

Your cheeks instantly flared red in embarrassment as you realized just what it was

The sketches of her that you drew

"I..I'm so sorry I promise it won't happen again I just well I-“

"Oh quit your yapping I'm not mad you idiot"

She instantly shuts you down slight irritation on her face, while confusion struck yours as you remained silent

"I'm promoting you to head designer, don't fuck this up. Shoo get back to it"

What the fuck? No literally, what the fuck?

You left as soon as she shooed you away, you were beyond confused as to why she did what she did, but you'd never question her.

Months after the promotion you and Velvette would become closer, considering how the two of you now worked closer together since you directly reported to her now.

Velvette wasn't as harsh as she usually was to you, she listened to your suggestions and took your thoughts seriously.

Velvette would ask you to go to a fashion show with her Saying it was to get another eye on the new trends, but you and her both indirectly knew it was her asking you in a date, which you obvious said yes.

After that point you were would date in private If anyone were to question you two?
They'd be instantly fired on spot or killed. She didn't need anyone peaking into her personal life

Would introduce you to the other Vee's later on

"She is mine don't try and start no fucking deals with her, shes off the market"

If she didn't say that Valentino would have snatched your ass for himself. And man did he want to. Fucking creep

You two often watched tv together in her room in private, or you would sketch her, she absolutely loved that she was your muse. She would always have sketch books and the highest quality of materials.

You stayed with her during the exterminations that happened for your protection too, she wouldn't let you not stay with her if you were killed she'd fucking lose her mind

It's been almost a year since the two of you have been together privately, with the exception of Vox and Val

You'd be working late at the office sewing a new design when you'd get a text from her

"Y/n doll. Can come back to our room whatever you're doing can wait"

"Be there in five"

Oh and you moved in with her. Per her request of course.

You finish up what you were doing before heading back, knocking on the door to your shared room

When you don’t hear a response you grow concerned, as you open the door.

You see Velvette on the bed on your shared bed on her side. She quickly sits up hearing the door open

"Vox I told you to fuck off! Wait Y/n"

Her hard glare softens, she can tell she was crying

"Velv.. are you okay? What happened?"

You quickly made your way over to her

"I don't want to be alone right now, doll"

She simply says before you instantly hug her.
Her returning the hug as you two just sit there, her quietly sobbing as you gently run your fingers through her soft curls, humming gently to her, trying to comfort her the best you can

You two are like that before she pulls away, keeping a hand in yours as you wipe the tears that remained trying your best to not smear her makeup anymore than it already was.

After a while she finally talks about what was causing her pain.

She might not be open to a lot of people

But damn do you help her a lot.

[eggyrocks]

congrats on 500 followers 🫶🏻 can I get #40 and Kageyama? they’re meant for one another

ur so right for this one it's so aggressively kageyama

500 followers special: #40: "Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

kageyama x gn reader, university au, tutoring, jock x nerd dynamic kinda if u squint, fluff, not proofread

written content masterlist

Tutoring is a job. It's a job that pays money. Albeit, pretty shit money, but money nonetheless. So they are going to smile and correct the essays and offer advice and they are not going sit there and pout over how much their student absolutely fucking hates them.

There's not a doubt in their mind that Kageyama would not be here if he didn't have to be. He does not care about his grades. He does not care about the material he writes about or even what he's writing (that much is clear from his essays; they have no point of view and are random regurgitations from text books sloppily thrown together to meet the word count).

It's very obvious to them that Kageyama is there to meet the minimum grade point average required in order for him to stay on the university's volleyball team.

So every Wednesday he ends up in the library with them, watching as they completely massacre his first drafts.

Their red pen draws a lazy circle around his third paragraph. "See, this portion here is in complete contradiction to the point you made earlier."

Kageyama, as he usually does, offers a slight grunt in response, his eyes narrowed at the essay before him, as if it's some sort of challenge for him to conquer.

He's not the best with words. On the page or out loud.

"And in this paragraph here, you're just summarizing again," they explain, red pen making a mess of the paper. "There's no sense of organization, and the way you start to deviate from the argument you laid out in the opening paragraph is gonna make your professor think you don't understand the text."

"I don't understand the text," Kageyama says, matter-of-factly, but there is a twist in his mouth and a slight dusting of pink in his cheeks.

They stop, and blink up at him. Their pen drops, and they lean back in their chair. "Okay, well when you're reading, what are you thinking about?"

Kageyama takes a moment to think. It's one of the things about him they appreciate-he thinks about every question posed to him. He doesn't ever say anything just for the sake of it, or because he thinks it's what he should say.

They appreciate that, among other things. Like the veins in his forearms and the size of his hands and the shade of blue in his eyes when he focuses.

Those things, they really, really appreciate.

"Usually, I'm not thinking about what I'm reading," Kageyama eventually replies, snapping them out of it. "I'm usually thinking about practice."

He's such a jock, they think to themselves, and try not to think of what exactly that makes them.

"Well, that's the main problem then, you're trying to dissect something you're not actively engaging in," they tell him, pushing the paper back towards him. Their hour's almost up. "I'd go back and try to reread more actively."

Kageyama frowns, and if he wasn't constantly frowning and sighing and grunting around him, they would think it's cute. "Okay, I'll try."

They give him a nod. "Text me if you need help going over the text next time instead of reviewing a new draft. Not due for another two weeks, right?" Kageyama gives them a nod in confirmation. "Right, so we'll have time. And try not to stress, okay? Your essays are getting better than when we started these sessions."

He freezes in place. If his cheeks were pink before, they're bright red now. "They are?"

A small smile forms on their face. "Yeah. I can tell you're getting more confident with your writing."

Kageyama's eyes are wide for a second, and then they find his hands, which are knotted together on the table in front of him. "Yeah, well, you're a really good tutor. You make it easier to understand everything."

Now, they can't contain the grin that spreads. The praise is one thing, but the way he's blushing and flustered in front of them is an entire other thing. "Really? This whole time I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you," Kageyama counters quickly and quietly. "You're just a lot smarter than me. It's intimidating."

They pause. "I don't think I'm smarter than you," they muse, leaning back in their chair, and Kageyama's eyes flash up to them. "There are tons of different ways to be intelligent. Just because I can write essays doesn't mean I'm a genius. And isn't that what I've heard about you? You're some sort of genius volleyball player?"

Kageyama still won't look up at them, but the corner of his lips tug up into a slight, barely-there smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

They don't focus on his words, though. They lean forward over the table and try to get a better look. "Holy shit," they almost gape. "Have I entered an alternate universe, or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

It doesn't drop. They half-expected it to. But instead, his smile remains, and Kageyama looks up at them, still blushing and hands still pressed together. "I am capable of it, you know."

It's cute, his smile. Unsure and nervous, like the way he can be, sometimes. "I'd like to see it more," they admit to him.

"You could come see, sometime. Me play. Volleyball, I mean. See if I'm a genius after all," he offers, only stumbling over his words a bit. "That'd make me smile."

Now it's their face that heats up. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Kageyama nods, and then stands to gather his things, swiping his marked up essay off the table between them. "I'll text you," he says, still grinning as he turns on his heel, leaving them to try and cool off their cheeks before the next student arrives.

an: hmmmm. maybe this one was better in my head. but im not dwelling on it.

[empress-simps]

Scribbles and Sketches

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

CW: Just two idiots in love with each other and the occasional swearing.

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Summary: Sirius has a habit of drawing in every possession he owns. It also doesn’t help the fact that it’s the way his crush finds out his feelings.

Note: This is inspired back then when my crush (at that time) sat next to me did a sketch of me while in Biology class. Enjoy! Photos used are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Sirius loves to doodle, whether it was little stars on his converse shoes, some random quotes he found funny that he decided to write in the back pages of his notebooks, or how there’s always a little scribble of ‘S.O.B’ on the first pages of his books (that he never really read, he just saw you once or twice holding or reading as you pass by him).

Walburga hates it, when she saw Sirius’ expensive hard bound books have his name scrawled out messily on the side, she was furious. She called it ‘Vandalizing’ and would punish Sirius back then for acting like a ‘mudblood’ and disgracing the beautiful pristine books with a childish scrawl.

Did he do it again numerous times before leaving to spite his birth giver? Yes, definitely, and certainly.

The night he left, he made sure to splash black paint onto the walls, carpets, and curtains— basically everywhere, he even managed to get the ceiling too. He could only imagine the horrified expression and the shrill scream Walburga did after discovering the thrashed room. A smirk of satisfaction never fails to appear on his face every time he thinks of it.

“Drawing her again, Pads?” James looked over Sirius’ shoulder, wanting to take a peek at his friend’s journal. Sirius hissed, shooing him away. “Go away, Prongs. I’m busy.” James lets out a snort, “Yeah right.”

“Just ask her out already, pads. You’re always ogling at her during classes it’s a bit creepy.” Peter teased, laughing at Sirius’ offended face.

“Sod off, wormtail.”

Remus took a break from reading his book to look at his squabbling friends. Seeing the journal in Sirius’ hands, he got curious. Placing the book down, he walked over to Sirius’ bed where James, Sirius, and Peter are. “That’s actually a pretty good sketch of her, mate.” Remus’ eyes travelled down to the right corner of the page, eyes bugging out at first then emitting a loud laugh.

“My future Mrs. Black? Really?”

Sirius grumbles, clearly embarrassed as a light blush coated his cheeks. “Don’t judge.”

“You’re such a sap, Pads!” James laughed, slapping his thighs repeatedly, finding it completely hilarious.

“Yeah, we’ll see who’s the one laughing on our wedding day.” Sirius grumbles, closing the journal and placing it in his school bag absentmindedly.

“If you even get to speak a simple ‘hello’ to her without tripping over your feet that is.”

The only thing keeping Sirius passing out and snoring in his boring Divination class is you humming next to him as you write in a blank piece of parchment. Merlin, he feels grateful and all that, but really? In the one subject he has no motivation for? Sirius grumbled; if it was transfigurations, then he could’ve shown off to you.

You didn’t fail to notice his grumbling state. Misunderstanding his actions, you thought it had something to do with you. Negative thoughts swirled around your head. Does he not like being your partner?

Putting your quill down, you felt nervousness settle in the pit of your stomach. You discreetly look to your left, seeing Sirius with a bored expression on his face. Alright, maybe you were overthinking things. He probably just finds this Divination class bollocks like you do, but you still folded the paper and placing it back into your bag, feeling a bit paranoid that he might see what you wrote.

Classes soon ended, and students hurriedly piled out, eager to get out of the boring class, muttering among themselves. You began to pack up your things, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sirius standing and about to exit the classroom.

“Sirius, wait!” You hurriedly grabbed him, your hands on his wrist. You blushed, trying to ignore how you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and the tingles that you felt when you made contact with him.

A look of surprise and a light blush coated his cheeks. “Y-yeah...? What’s up?” He stuttered. Sirius heard his friends howl in laughter outside the door, clearly spying on them. Thank Merlin that you didn’t notice (or didn’t care if you did notice) as you smiled warmly at him.

“Um, so are you free this Saturday? I figured it would be best if we both worked together on the essay since... we’re partners…” Oh for the love of Merlin, please have mercy on these two people who are too coward to say they like each other. Sirius blinks—not once, not twice, but three times. You can hear Marlene snickering in the background at the exchange.

Was he hearing this right? You? Asking him out? (Okay, not really, but in his mind, it still counts as you asking him out) He was pulled out of his thoughts when you chuckled nervously, awaiting his reply. “Sirius...? You in there?” Sirius cleared his throat. "Erm, yeah! Yeah, see you at the library then?”

You smiled warmly, and Sirius thought he had been blessed by Merlin himself. “Yeah, see you at 9:00 a.m. Bye!” He watches you go to Marlene and Lily, both looking at him with knowing looks.

“Bye.” He breathes out, still looking at you.

“Merlin, Padfoot is whipped.” Peter shakes his head, smirking.

“That he is.” James laughed, watching a pink-faced Sirius make his way towards them. “Cat got your tongue, Pads?” James teased, elbowing Sirius who tried to shove him off. “More like Y/n got his tongue.” Peter snickered; Sirius turned redder.

“Nah, how could Y/n even get his tongue when he couldn’t even get a kiss on the cheek.” Remus laughed, joining in the teasing.

“You guys are terrible mates.”

“We love you too, Pads.”

You bit your lip, looking at both outfits sprawled out your bed. “Lily! Please help me pick one!” The said girl looked up from her charms essay, standing up and walking towards you.

“Are you going on a date, Y/n?”

“No, just doing some divination work with Sirius.”

Marlene perked up, her smirk evident on her features. “Are you sure it’s just divination? Not something else?” Lily scolded her “Oh hush Marlene! Y/n isn’t like that.” She turned to face you, “I think the red sweater and ripped jeans will look good on you.” She smiles, you smiled gratefully. “Thanks Lils, knew I could always count on you. Not like the other person here.” You teased, eyeing Marlene jokingly who pouted “Hey!”

Sirius groans, plopping down his bed. It seems like he couldn’t get a single wink of sleep. He tried everything, even taking a walk outside into the wee hours of the night. Remus throws a pillow at him, grumpier as the full moon is only days away. “If you don’t wanna sleep then at least let us get a fucking good night’s rest, Pads.”

He ignored his friend but kept quiet not to disturb his friends. “Merlin, the things you do to me woman...” he grumbled, rubbing his hand exasperatedly over his face. Opening his trunk, he decided to mull over what he was going to wear for the next day.

“Alright, do I look presentable?” You turn towards your two friends, dressed in the slightly oversized red sweater and ripped jeans Lily had recommended, topping it off with a maroon converse with little flowers and leaves embroidered around it. Pretty basic but eh, it works.

“Kinda meh, let’s put on some make up, yeah?” Marlene gestured to you to sit down, looking at the mirror, you frowned. “I only know how to do blush and lips though...”

“That’s where I come in, let’s make Black drop on his knees and fawn over you.”

Sirius glanced nervously at his watch, uncharacteristically quiet and early; he was a whole hour early, a huge change for the boy who’s always running late and calling it being ‘fashionably late’. By the way he was behaving it looks like he got stood up on a date, which was quite amusing to other students who are seeing this new side of him. Just sitting and having nothing to do makes him even more impatient, so he did what he did best— sketching you.

He took out his journal which he surprisingly brought and took out a pencil and an eraser he stole from Remus. He pictures you in his head, how you hum while scribbling something in a parchment next to him during your last divination class. He started to sketch, expertly drawing you as he did hundreds of times before. It took him about an hour to finish it, even having the time to detail it. He smiles lightly, adding ‘My love.’ in the right corner. It was not just some sketch as he likes to call it, it’s an art piece.

You are his muse— much like he is to your poems.

“Sirius, hey.” You smiled, sitting down beside him quietly, oblivious to a drawing he made that was practically glaring at you, waiting to be noticed. “Sorry I was late.”

Sirius blinks, looking at you “Ah, it’s no problem! I just got here too.” you smiled, pulling out some quills and parchment they would need for the study session as Sirius grabbed the books from his bag. What you both failed to notice was the little piece of parchment containing a painfully obvious poem about him.

Ah, talk about being blindly in love.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. I would seriously drop out of this class next year...” She mumbles, grabbing Sirius’ books without much of a thought.

“I’ll go start with the reading about tea leaf reading then- what’s that?” She stopped in her tracks, staring at what seemed to be a perfect drawing of her. Sirius blanched, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. Shit, you were definitely not supposed to see that. Sirius wanted to cry and disintegrate on the spot.

Your eyes scanned the page quickly, eyes catching the words “My Love” in the corner in Sirius’ handwriting. Your face quickly heated up as your heartbeat went faster, your stomach doing flips. You were speechless, eyes gravitated to the drawing. Sirius quickly slammed shut his journal, pulling you out of your trance.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He tries to save face. Although he immediately wanted to punch himself as he saw you visibly deflate at his statement. He can already feel Remus whacking him upside the head while James scolded him. As if Potter boy would do any better when facing Lily Evans. You bit your lip “Oh.”

An awkward silence ensued for a few moments, Sirius looking anywhere but you and you looking down biting your lip. “Uh, I know you said it’s not what it looks like…” You started, making Sirius whip his head in your direction. “But I just wanted to tell you… That I fancy you.” She saw the poem she wrote during divination class poking out of some of the blank parchments, Marlene and Lily had probably placed it among your parchments. She carefully hands it to him. “I’ll just do the rest of the essay, don’t worry. I know you don’t like this subject.” She quickly packed her things up and headed straight to the exit.

He sat there dumbly, reading the poem you gave to him, eyes widening when he realized it was quite obvious that the love poem was about him. Merlin, he done fucked up his chances of being with the girl of his dreams.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Remus grabbed his wrist and dragged him to a section of the library where not many people are to see the rest of the Marauders with disappointed looks on their faces. “Really, padfoot?” James frowned. “You’ve done it, pads.” Peter sighs, shaking his head.

“Just what the fuck was that, Black?!?” Remus hissed, Sirius bit his lip and looked away. “Lily told me how Y/n was excited, she’ll kill us for sure.” James shivered while Peter gulps “Don’t forget about Marlene.”

“Did your exchange your braincells for your fucking hair, padfoot?!” Remus still hasn’t finished scolding his friend. “I know I know, Moony. I fucked up.” He grumbles, looking at his Doc Martens. “To think that we even planned this with Lily and Marlene…” Remus grumbles.

“What? What plan?”

“Setting you up with Y/n, we thought this will be the perfect time.” James told him, “Apparently not” Remus grumbles. “Y/n’s got a crush on you for ages, Pads.” Peter told him. “And how would you know this?” Sirius found it hard to believe.

“Aside from the fact that she practically confessed to you earlier, Lily accidentally slipped up and told me.” James shrugged. They watch as Sirius practically scrambles out of the library, presumably off to find you. Remus folded his arms to his chest.

“Well at least he saved one braincell just in case.”

“Y/n! Hold on!” Sirius called, seeing you were about to enter the girls’ part of the dormitory. You ignored him, continuing to walk. He managed to catch up, holding your hand to stop you. “Y/n please…” You turned to him, eyes swimming with disappointment. “What is it, Black?” He visibly winced. “I-I take it back.” He told her, you raised one eyebrow in suspicion, “Take what back?”

“What I said earlier, in the library.”

“I don’t need you to feel bad for me.”

“I’m not, believe me.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, conflicted. Should you believe him?

“I’ve also been hopelessly in love with you, Y/n.” Your eyebrows shot in surprise. He continued, “I… I was so embarrassed and panicked since… my journal was full of you.” Sirius confessed. You were about to reply when he opened his mouth again. “And your poem; fuck, it made me feel things. Merlin, I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry love-”

“If you really are sorry then just shut up and kiss me, Black.”

[writersdrug]

hehe hi! anon here! didn’t know what you wanted in terms of request but 😭 how about like a comfort request? i’ve just had a pretty bad academic related experience, so maybe head-canons of any character of your choosing for comfort?

Ooooh I like this a lottt.... of course I'll be using the CoD boys, but I might throw some random ones in here too, be prepared lol. Thanks for the request!!!

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE OMGGGGG

CoD 141 Headcannons: Comforting You through a Rough Academic Period

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He wasn't really the academic type, so he couldn't entirely understand why you let yourself agonize so much over your studies.

But he respected the fact that you were working so hard to achieve your goals. Something he never got to do often for himself, since most of his job was just following orders.

He would sit there and watch as you sat, neck stuck out towards your computer and your back hunched. He'd sigh, moving behind you to roll out your back, wincing as it popped.

"Christ, love - get up and walk around for a second, yeah?"

"I'm almost done with this module, just let m-"

"Up. Now." He'd order you to move, but would drag you out of your seat whether you started to move or not. "You'll get stuck if you sit like that for too long, looking like an old man."

"Like you?"

"Oi!!"

Simon would practice your flashcards with you, although he wouldn't be very helpful. He'd just shake his head when you got the answer wrong, not bothering to help you find it.

"... is it the femur?"

"No."

"... the tibia?"

"Nope. Try again."

"Can I get a hint?"

"No."

"..."

He knew to NOT distract you when you were on a roll. He can manage keeping himself busy while you studied, doing his own work or helping with chores around the apartment.

He knew, from experience, how easy it was to forget to take care of yourself - so he did it for you. He brought you water every time you emptied your cup. He would bring you snacks periodically, or he would cook a meal for the both of you. He'd sit and eat with you, not making any conversation so he doesn't distract you.

"Anything you need, love, just tell me."

If he caught you getting distracted, whether you would glaze over what you were reading, or your conversation with him would go just a bit too long, he would redirect you back to your work.

"Finish that bit and then take a break with me."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

He hated the fact that all of your time was being consumed by something other than him. When he would walk out of your bedroom first thing in the morning and see you bent over the table with your laptop and notebook, he would groan internally. He'd rather you be be bent over the table for him.

But he remembered how often you waited for him while he was deployed, so he patiently waited for you.

Well, as patient as he possibly could be.

After about three hours, you'd be the one lecturing him, telling him to go watch tv or go out and do something so you could finish. Every now and then, he'd only agree to leaving you alone if you would promise to go out to dinner with him, whether it was casual or fancy. After agreeing - and several kisses for convincing - he'd let you be.

"Wear your favorite jeans, ok?" he'd say.

"You mean your favorite jeans?"

"... yeah." he'd smile ear-to-ear.

He would stand behind you, his head resting on top of yours, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he read along to the biochemistry textbook you had on your screen.

"Shite, hen, you studying to be a fucking wizard? What is all that keech?"

He'd constantly throw passive-aggressive praises at you, saying how you're so strong for sticking with your studies, and how he would have given up after looking at the first page.

"You gonna remember me when you're up there with the brainy blokes?"

"Of course I will, you're helping me pay for this."

"For feck's sake, I forgot 'bout that."

More than once, when you dropped your head down in frustration, he would walk over and hold it back up towards the screen.

If you studied in your bed or on the couch, he would sometimes lay with his head in your lap, wrapping his arms around your thighs with a tired pout on his lips.

"Hold me when you're finished with that, yeah?"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

He admired your determination to get your degree - he felt a sense of pride every time he saw you studying, especially on the days where it was particularly hard for you.

He was your #1 supporter, constantly encouraging you, praising you, and helping you see what your working towards. He'd be carrying you through the lows of your emotions, making sure you didn't feel hopeless.

"Of course you got this, babe, you're so fucking smart!"

While you were reading the module in the textbook, he'd be looking up videos on his phone about the subject, watching it on the lowest volume so as not to disturb you.

He'll sit on the floor with you, your notes strewn everywhere, listening to you talk about the subject you're working on. He'd do his best to engage in conversation with you about it, hoping that it helps you retain the information better.

Truth be told, he doesn't know much about the subject, but he's just happy to help. He'd let you vent about your current frustrations.

"It says that this piece is in 3-4..." you'd mumble.

"Yeah?" he'd reply, not sure where you were looking at on the page in front of you, but doing his best to follow along.

"... and that this one is in 4-4 too, but each note is made up of triplets."

"Triplets?!"

"Yes! And THIS one is 2-4, ALSO with triplets!! They all sound the same!!"

"How the fuck are they different?!"

"You tell me!!"

You knew he wasn't sure what you were talking about, but that he knew what you needed - a shoulder. And he always provided you with that, no matter what kind of day he'd had.

He'd encourage you with snacks, going through your flashcards with you and tossing you a pretzel every time you got one right.

"Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' starts off in a blank chord."

"Melancholic?"

"Close, but try again. Think simpler."

"... minor?"

"There you go." he'd toss you a pretzel from across the couch.

Captain John Price:

Mans goes full dad-mode when helping you study.

He has a week away from missions? You'd best believe he's spending it at the dinner table with you. He'd work on his own things, sitting next to you, while you study.

He had a no-phone rule at the table while you worked. At first you whined and fidgeted with your hands, itching to check your phone for any form of distraction. Eventually, you gave up, diving into your studies as Price smiled smugly.

Like Simon, he'd be bringing you snacks and water throughout the day. Lots of shoulder massages, scalp massages, and stretch breaks (he'd try to participate, until he'd strain his back too much).

If he notices you struggling, evident in the way you scowl and grip your hair near the scalp, he'd sit right beside you and try to help you understand the material.

Unless it was math. He couldn't stand math.

"What's that?"

"That's mu."

"Come again?"

"It's a Greek letter, it represents the population mean."

"English, love."

"N-no, it's Greek!"

"Huh?!"

"Never mind, John, I got it from here." You'd kiss his cheek, thankful for the moment of amusement he'd provided. He'd continue staring at the screen, grumbling about how ridiculous math had become over the years.

For at least one of your breaks, he'd insist on taking you for a walk. You'd stroll around the neighborhood, basking in the chilly Autumn air mixed with Price's warm arm around yours. As hard as it was for him to drag you out of the house, you were thankful for his stubbornness to get you moving. The pace of the walk and the sound of the atmosphere around you helped clear your head of any frustration and brain fog. You'd close your eyes and lean your head against Price's shoulder, trusting him to take the lead.

A day spent studying was rewarded with an hour or two either in front of the tv, lying in Price's embrace, or the two of you just sitting on the cough together, having a conversation free of your school subjects. Most of the time, you'd fall asleep before him, and he'd let you lie there for a minute before he'd carry you to bed.

"Try not to work yourself too hard, love. Y' need to be strong for me tomorrow."

[mylittleredgirl]

while we’re having the endless debate about sorting by kudos or not on ao3, i have to stump for my personal favorite way to find fics:

i basically always go straight to the “bookmarks” page for whatever pairing/tag i’m reading rather than the “works” page, and i literally just realized why: it lights up the same parts of my tumblr gremin brain as my dash does.

content hand-selected by people who are bookmarking shit for their own reasons entirely unknowable to me, so it’s a mix of quality peer review and user xyz’s to-read list

if you keep going back to it there’s a repetition over time as new people bookmark old fics. as a tumblr girlie my brain enjoys seeing Thing I Recognize

brand new fics often show up there if they’re good!! (equivalent: new posts tagged “investing at 5 notes”)

a lot of the top kudos fics keep showing up too because so many people sort the works page that way (equivalent: heritage post)

but so much random stuff shows up too that i would otherwise never find, thanks to the hardworking folks out there sobbing into the bottom of the tag at 4 am (equivalent: those posts with 56 notes from 2011 that somehow?? end up on your dash like bestie how did you even find that)

sometimes there are 30 bookmarks in a row by the same person who has a new hyperfixation and you get to think “good for them”

sometimes you get to recognize a username as someone having good or seriously bad taste

sometimes i see my own fics in the mix!! and get that little hit of positive attention (or neutral attention i guess, when people add a bookmarker tag like “it’s about [my fave character] but it’s ok”)

yeah! people can add bookmarker tags and their own notes! so sometimes people rec fics or add marginalia and their own sortable tags (but most people don’t)

there’s always that one fucking harry potter crossover fic with 194 tags in the mix (equivalent: manscaped ads you can’t escape). not saying this is a plus, but scrolling past the same long post you hate for the dozenth time is also an essential part of the tumblr experience.

re: that last bullet point, the one downside of the bookmarks page is that the filtering isn’t quite as robust as on the works page. you do have all the usual include/exclude filter options, but the very last section of filtering (crossovers, WIPs, word count, date range) is not available. (@ ao3 coders please i’m begging 🥺🙏)

anyway i’m sure the bookmarking economy is different across fandoms, but this will give you a semi-randomized feed of the tag, weighted toward new and popular fics (and, for better or worse, unfinished multi-chapter works and megafandom crossovers). it’s probably a good place to start for people who long for an algorithm, but unlike the usual user-targeted panopticon experience it’s more like the chance to rummage through strangers’ junk drawers for fic. tumblr vibes. you get me.

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 5 Prompt: Grinch vs Christmas Cheer

Tags: Modern AU, Eddie Munson & Jeff, Steve & Eddie Are Neighbors, Teacher Steve, Meet Cute

wc: 1863 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I thought you said you talked to them?” Eddie groans. He tips his head so far back he wobbles in the chair for a moment before he rights himself and buries his head in his hands. “I can’t work under these conditions!” 

“I don’t think planning a campaign counts as working,” Jeff teases. 

They’re in their apartment kitchen. Jeff cooking something that smells a hundred times better than the vending machine sandwich he had for lunch at the shop. Free from his day job, Eddie’s working on something he actually cares about now. The latest Dungeons & Dragons handbook is open to a random page while his trusty notebook sits open. There’s no use in hiding it from Jeff. It’s not like he could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch penmanship anyway.

Besides, he hasn’t gotten much of anything done since he plopped down on the worn leather chair. It’s hard to work with the blaring sound of Mariah fucking Carey’s Christmas album playing on repeat for the third day straight coming from their neighbor's apartment. The obnoxious whirling of the fans keeping a dozen or so Christmas inflatables blown up on their shared stairwell and balcony also doesn’t help. 

If this continues any longer, Eddie swears he’s going to find them a new place to live. The peace and quiet would be worth losing out on their rent-controlled place. At least, Eddie thinks so. Christ, he misses the Richards who moved last year. He’d take their scowls and snide comments over this Christmas madness any day. 

“It absolutely counts as working,” Eddie scoffs, shooting a glare in Jeff’s direction. “And don’t change the subject, Jefferson. Did you even talk to Mr. and Mrs. Claus next door?”

Jeff snorts, shaking his head before returning to the pot of sauce he has simmering.  “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to.” 

“Jeff!” Eddie whines. “Your job as the approachable one of this house is to confront our neighbors when they’re annoying us.” 

“Okay, but they’re not annoying me.” 

“Well, that’s a lie. You hate Michael Buble as much as I do and I know you heard his stupid crooning voice at seven this morning like I did.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Jeff sighs, turning away from the stove to face Eddie. “But I can’t tell them to lower their music! Not when they haven’t complained once about the shit you blare at all hours of the night or our Corroded practices when we have nowhere else to go.” 

If Eddie was less stubborn, maybe he’d see that Jeff has a point. But he is stubborn, so he doubles down instead. 

“That’s different.” 

“It’s really not.” 

“Fine,” Eddie shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat. The headache festering behind is eyes is too painful for him to keep arguing with Jeff. Besides, he’s never been able to push Jeff around. It’s why they make such good roommates. “Can you at least talk to them about their decorating habits then? I had to wade through a fucking forest of inflatables this afternoon. M’pretty sure Frosty the fucking Snowman almost punched my balls.” 

“Eds, need I remind you that a few days ago you had the entire place decked out for Halloween? How is a few inflatables different than all those skeletons and demon shit you had up?” 

“First of all, how dare you compare my artistry to whatever is going on outside,” Eddie scoffs. He’s going to give himself a sore throat if he keeps this up. “I have taste. My decorations told a story! Those inflatables aren’t even from the same properties. They’ve got Santa Mickey next to the fucking Grinch! Charlie Brown mingling with Yoda! There’s no plot!” 

Jeff’s shoulders slump, forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter so he’s at eye level with Eddie. “Just look on the bright side. At least they haven’t done one of those obnoxious light shows like that stupid reality show.”

As if Jeff accidentally summoned a demon in the form of Christmas cheer, a burst of red and green floods their apartment. Their once dimly lit kitchen looks like the inside of a club, red and green lights flickering with the occasional white and blue mixed in. The flickers are timed with the beat of another Mariah Carey Christmas song. 

This is what hell must look like, Eddie thinks, as he glares at Jeff. 

“What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Jeff defends, hands up in surrender. 

Eddie can seem him struggling not to laugh and it takes all the energy he can muster not to reach around the counter and playfully punch his shoulder. How can Jeff think this is funny? The flickering lights completely goes against their moody aesthetic! Not to mention it’s a health hazard! There’s no way Gareth is going to be able to come over here — not with the way he’s so sensitive to strobes. 

Jesus H. Christ and it’s only November 25th! He has to put up with this for weeks! 

“It’s not funny, Jefferson!” 

“I mean,” Jeff snorts, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing. “It’s a little funny.” 

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

The lights have not fucking stopped. Not for one single day. Eddie had hoped his neighbors would have grown tired of the constant strobing and Christmas music by now. But nope. A week and a half and its still going strong. 

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind. 

“Jeff,” Eddie hisses, lifting the blanket of his makeshift fort enough that he can make eye contact with Jeff. Or at least, try to. Jeff’s perched in their recliner with the biggest pair of sunglasses Eddie’s ever seen. “Please. I can’t take much more of this!” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“I might have believed you if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous things,” Eddie snorts. He waits for Jeff to retort but when he doesn’t, he groans and slowly emerges from the safety of his blanket fort. Christ he forgot how bright those damn things are. 

Stalking over to their small entryway, Eddie hastily tugs on a pair of boots and reaches for the doorknob. 

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks, voice laden with concern. 

“Someone has to confront the neighbors!” 

He doesn't give him time to respond, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him in one fluid movement. It should be a short trip to the neighbor's front door, just a few long strides, but Eddie forgets to account for the fuckton of inflatables cluttering the path. He ducks around Frosty, flipping him off when his stupid wood arms nearly deck his balls, again and forcibly shoves Mickey’s face away from him. 

It takes another bit of carefully navigating before he finally reaches the front door adorned with a festive wreath. These people really left no spot undecorated. Eddie doesn’t spare them the decency of a nice, neighborly knock or ring of the doorbell. They’re way past that. Instead, he makes a fist and slams his knuckles into the wood door, and keeps going. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock. 

They probably can’t hear him over the damn music, Eddie thinks, as his knuckle turns redder and redder. Just when he’s about to retreat and face Jeff’s smug wrath, the door opens. 

The first thought that passes through Eddie’s mind is oh, he’s hot. The second, more vital thought, comes a moment later. He’s going to kill Jeff. How dare he not disclose how attractive this guy is the minute he met him months ago? 

The guy, who Eddie vaguely thinks is named Steve, looks just as surprised to see him as he is. Decked out in an obnoxious Santa-themed apron and green plaid flannel pants, his cheeks are spotted with flour and his hands are stained a faint red color. Judging from the delicious aroma of vanilla and peanut butter wafting into the hallway, Eddie interrupted some very serious baking. 

“Oh, you’re not the Instacart shopper,” maybe Steve frowns. “Can I help you?” 

“Oh, uh,” Eddie trails off. He’s here for a reason, he knows this, but his mind is blank. Distracted by the smells and the lights and the gorgeous fucking man standing in front of him with hazel eyes so sparkly Eddie’s pretty sure he belongs in a cartoon. “I’m Eddie, your neighbor.” 

I’m Eddie, your neighbor? 

This cannot be the same brain that creates intricate, plot twist-ridden campaigns that last months. Absolutely not.

“Ah, so you’re Jeff’s roommate! It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.” 

“Right, Steve” Eddie nods. He’s not sure why he nods, it’s not a normal thing to do when you meet someone, and yet, he can’t stop nodding. Stop fucking nodding! 

“So, uh, what brings you by?” Steve asks, casually leaning against the doorframe. 

“Oh, I uh…” The lights. You were coming here to complain about the lights! “I came to tell you, uh… I could smell you baking!” Oh my fucking god. ��You know these walls are thin and we, uh, share AC vents or something I think? So the smell was filling our place and it smelled so good I just, uh, had to come over and see what you’re baking?” 

If Jeff was here, Eddie’s pretty sure he’d be two seconds away from collapsing in a fit of laughter. Thank god he’s not. As soon as he gets back to his room, he’s going to take a lukewarm shower and try to forget this entire interaction ever happened and then hide from Steve for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, I’m making peanut butter cookies.” Steve’s smile is almost as blinding as the twinkling lights and like a moth to a flame, Eddie can’t look away. “One of my students has been having a rough time and they’re their favorite.”

“Damn, maybe if I had a teacher who baked me cookies I would have done better in school.” 

Steve laughs, “Tell me about it. Actually, uh, do you want to help? I’m allergic to peanut butter and my best friend is tied up at work. I could really use a taste tester. Make sure they’re edible.” 

“Oh, uh…” Eddie glances over his shoulder and takes in the sight of the sea of inflatables staring at him with their beady painted on eyes, squints at the obnoxious flashing lights keeping time to a terrible cover of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Together it’s the reminder he needs as to why he trekked over here in the first place, but when he turns he’s hit with a punch of peanut butter and well… “Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good taste tester.” 

“Perfect,” Steve smiles, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Kitchen’s this way.” 

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

Eddie returns an hour later. Belly full of joy just peanut butter cookies, but also chocolate chip, and gingerbread, and some cinnamon concoction that had him considering a marriage proposal on the spot and a tupperware overflowing with said cookies. 

Jeff is still in the living room, sunglasses shielding his eyes, but Eddie knows him well enough to know he’s judging him. 

“Don’t say a word,” Eddie sneers, heading straight for the kitchen. 

[kenneduck]

I just spent way too long writing this, but here's a HC on what I believe would happen if BOTW Link found his OWN diary from 100 years ago.

At first, the diary's pages seem rather bland. Random stories about being in training, how Link misses his parents, how he's overwhelmed with the pressures of being a knight, etc. But, as Link reads through his old self, he finds himself caught on words. Words that seem... off putting. Words that make him feel a bit of fear of what he had forgotten about himself. Sentences that made him second guess if he should have been the Hero of Hyrule.

It's not apparent, but there's little sentences here and there that show a side of Link that didn't awaken after the 100 year slumber. Anger, envy, spite. Emotions Link DID encounter once he'd awoken, but... never directed towards the Princess. Never towards his role as knight. Never towards his friends who didn't remain any more.

Link felt a pit in his stomach form as he got further into his diary. Everyone he knows now recounts Link as a hero full of heart and determination. One who stands up for what was right, one who never questioned what he was told if it was to protect another. But these thoughts Link wrote... it made him feel guilty. He wrote about how he hated being a knight. Being HER knight. Being a chosen one who couldn't run away from what was forced upon him. He even... wished he would fail, so his duties would come to an end.

It felt heartbreaking to read these words he wrote 100 years ago. He wanted to help the Link who wrote this. Almost treating this Link as if it was someone he could comfort, but this wasn't another person he could reassure. It was him.

As Link got near the end of his diary, he didn't know what to think. He... hated himself. Who he was. It wasn't who Link was now. He never felt this anger towards his role in the Calamity since he woke. Link did feel anger, but it was towards his writing. How he could have possibly had such spite towards those he loved. Towards those he put his life on the line to protect. It angered him. Made him seethe as he got to the last written words.

"There's no winning against the Calamity. Only winning against those who use me for what I provide. I must leave, for I am fighting the wrong fight. I only have one place to turn to, one place that will truly accept me. No matter if I join them now, or many of years into the future, I must join the Yiga Clan."

Link stared at the last sentence. He began to feel anger, a different one than before. As Link recounted how he came across his diary, he grew frustrated. It was found neatly placed in the damaged knights' wing of Hyrule Castle. The diary itself had no dust, yet the room was caked in it. A room... that had a familiar scent of fruit lingering...

The diary was a pathetic ploy to have Link join the Yiga Clan. To turn him against his loved ones.

And it took him until the very last page to realize it.

He also now understood why previous pages would randomly recount his love for bananas. Why there was even a recipe to make banana bread on the 14th page.

He felt like an idiot for not realizing this sooner, but as he began to calm down from the overflow of emotions he got while reading, he realized the perfect way to release the frustration. It was time to visit the Yiga Clan.

[libraryofloveletters]

I Spy With My Little Eye

Dominik Szoboszlai x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dom is so cheesy but he also disappeared and you're like ??, a bit plot heavy, so many random tasks, reader thinks dom has lost his mind, major sweetness at the end.

Word Count: 970

Author's Note: dedicated to my fellow dom enthusiast @curiousthyme <3

--

This Christmas was different. Dom made you work for your gift rather than giving it to you; following the clues through the neighbourhood to your final gift.

There was some time before Christmas and Dominik suggested a trip to Germany, the place you two called home for quite a bit of time while he played with Leipzig. You still had your place there as you bounced back and forth between there and Liverpool for work so you two were staying there for a few days.

You felt the mattress dip, your boyfriend's warm hand on your forehead. His lips by your ear, "I've got some errands to run, sweetheart. I'll be back later." he whispers, kissing your head.

A mumble and you feel around, patting his cheek before rolling over and going back to sleep.

It wasn't until an hour later than you got up, finding Dom's side of the bed still empty. There was a note on the pillow, you assumed it was just him reiterating what he had told you before he left, knowing you'd be too sleepy to really listen to him.

You unfolded the page, reading the words he had scribbled down.

check your favourite hiding spot for a gift - xoxo D.

The sun peeked through the curtains, you forced yourself out of bed to go into the living room. The ottoman sat on the rug, you smiled to yourself. Dom never used the ottoman, in fact he hated the thing; it was ugly and clunky but you liked it for some reason so he left it. Plus he knew you used it as a hiding spot because he often forgot it was there.

Pushing the top open, there's a box wrapped up with ribbon and a note tucked under it. The note was opened first.

get ready and head to Julie's for the next note - xoxo D.

You had no idea what he was up to but you folded the page again, taking the lid off of the box to find a dress you had been telling him about for weeks. You haven't been able to find it in stores or online. You're not sure how he did it but you're sure he used his 'connections' as he called it to find it for you.

As the note said, you went through your morning routine and got ready, your coat wrapped around you and boots on as you headed out and into the snow.

The bell rings on the cafe door, the smell of baked goods welcomes you back home. "Y/n!" Julie beamed, you weren't expecting to see her in, especially not on a Saturday morning.

"Hey!" You smiled.

"Here you go," she passed you your usual coffee order and an envelope. You reach for your purse to pay her but she shakes her head, "Dom paid."

You smile, opening the envelope and reading the note.

meet me where we had our first kiss - xoxo D.

It takes you a moment to think back, it feels like a million years ago but then it hits you, the park.

You thank Julie for the coffee and you're off again, making your way through the snow, cursing Dom in your head for choosing a snowy day to do whatever it was that this was. It's a short walk to the park, specifically to the park rangers' office; yes you had your first kiss outside of their office. You were on a walk and it started pouring rain, Dom pulled you there to keep you out of the rain and kissed you for the first time there.

It was more romantic in the morning, but thinking about it now made you giggle.

You looked around for your boyfriend, hoping this would be the last of the walking as your legs were killing you.

Someone pats your shoulder, a park ranger. "Are you y/n?"

"Yeah," you nod, the man hands you yet another envelope. You're a bit annoyed, knowing you'd probably have to walk some more but you open it.

follow the ranger. no more walking, I promise - xo D.

It's as if he read your mind. "Lead the way," you tell the man, he nods and leads you over to one of their little cars.

You knew this path, it led to the gazebo at the edge of the park that overlooked the water. You get out of the car, thanking the man as you walk over to the gazebo. There are candles and flowers everywhere. As you make your way closer, you're expecting to see Dom but you don't.

A bit confused, you look around but then feel someone tap your shoulder; Dominik is on one knee behind you when you turn around.

"Dom.." You look at the man, your jaw hangs open slightly.

"Y/n," he smiles, "the last 5 years have been the best of my life, as cheesy as it sounds. You've been through the good and the bad, stuck to my side no matter what and I can't thank you enough for that. I hope you know how much you mean to me and will always mean to me so," he smiled at you again, opening the small box in his hand.

"Will you do me the honour and marry me?"

You're in shock, nodding but then you remember you actually have to answer him. "Yes!" You lean down, hands on his face as you kiss him. Dom stands, still kissing you for a moment before he pulls away, slipping the ring onto your finger.

Your boyfriend- fiancé, pulls you back into a hug, kissing you as he picks you up, giving you a good squeeze.

"I know you've always wanted a Christmas proposal but not on Christmas." He laughs, forehead pressed to yours.

You smile, tears in your eyes as your hand presses to his face. "It was perfect, perhaps less walking would have been better but still," you giggled, Dom kissed you once more, hugging you.