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luveline · 4 months

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Oh oh oh Hotch walking in on a sweet little moment between Jack and reader and he just MELTS when he realises how much he loves them both??💗💗 (pls, only if it inspires you lovely!!)

ty for your request! fem, 1k

“Well, I liked it. I thought it was cool.”

Hotch puts his keys in the bowl. “It is cool,” Jack says. It's good to hear his voice after so long away. Jack's not often talkative. “It is.”

“Thank you, Jack.” There's a gap where Hotch can't see anything, peering around the door to the kitchen. He's too far away. “You're such a nice boy. You know that?” you ask.

You and Jack are talking in the unhurried tones of people close to one another. Hotch has to strain to hear it clearly. “You think so?”

“I do. You're really, always nice to me. You're brave and smart, Jack, but what I love about you the most is how nice you are. How kind.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Hotch can see the look on your face in his mind, the softening of your eyes and the small smile. “Do you think you're nice?”

“Yes!” A small giggle echoes off of the kitchen tiles. “I'm nice. But I want to be brave more.”

“Yeah? It's a really great thing to be so nice. To be patient with people, and to be forgiving, that's its own kind of bravery, because it can be hard.”

“It's easy.”

“I'm glad you think so.” Hotch walks further down the hall and finally spots you. You're sitting on the kitchen floor together with one of Jack's long paper rolls spooled from the door to the cabinets. Jack lays on his stomach with a red marker in his hand, staring at you with wide eyes as you draw. Hotch can't see your face, but he hears your smile. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too… thanks for drawing with me.”

“I love drawing with you. Maybe I should say thanks to you for doing all the best ones.”

Jack laughs with the shaken-soda quality only little kids can reach. It immediately gets you laughing, and that combined makes Hotch chuckle. Your heads turn together quickly, Jack's with excitement and yours surprise. “Hi, daddy!”

“Hi, buddy.”

“You're home early?” Jack asks.

Hotch steps carefully over the mess of pending and paper, sitting cross-legged at Jack's side. Jack smiles and tips into Hotch's lap without getting up, a flop of limbs into starched pants. Hotch hugs him in similar limbless fashion.

“Home for two days, at least.” He presses his lips to Jack's ear, speaking softly. “So I hope you saved some room for me on that paper.”

“I did! Do you want your pyjamas? We've been wearing our pyjamas all day. We had pizza for breakfast.”

“Jack!” You cover your face. “Jack, that was our secret, oh,” —you part your fingers— “Aaron, I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't lie to you, and I know I shouldn't give him junk but he was asking so nicely and I really didn't wanna make oatmeal.”

Jack runs away with another bout of giggles, knowing he's entrapped you.

“You know I don't care,” Hotch says, giving you an easy smile.

“Yeah, but… I'm supposed to be a good role model,” you say, offering a small smile in return. It half knocks the air from his lungs.

He reaches across the drawing chaos to touch your face with his thumb. Your cheek is soft. The little wrinkle by your mouth deepens with your smiling, and the incremental weight of your head tilting into his hand is a feeling he can't get enough of.

“I heard you talking,” he says.

“What were we saying?”

“About how he's kind.” He cups your cheek. “I missed you both so much. It's… amazing to be home.”

He knows you like this more than kissing, sometimes. It isn't hard to hold you like you mean everything to him, to caress your skin with a gentle fingertip, drawing a line along the curve of your neck. Your pupils grow to black dimes, and your breathing slows.

“I missed you too, Agent. We missed you, we've been trying to think of new games to keep busy. See, we're drawing us in different jobs.”

He's going to look just as soon as he gets enough of you, his thumb pressing circles into your skin.

“Did you frown a lot while you were away?” you ask in a whisper.

“Can you tell?”

“A little bit,” you say, still whispering as you lift your hand. You rub the line between his brows. “Should I kiss it away?”

Jack runs back in with Hotch's pyjamas in his arms, a grey shirt and dark blue pants. “Kiss what?”

“My wrinkles,” Hotch says.

“His frowny face.”

Jack wraps his arms over Hotch's shoulders, almost choking him with the pyjamas. “I'll do it! I will.”

“Alright, buddy. Fix me up, okay? I can only smile for the next couple of days.”

Hotch gets a face full of kisses and a great long hug to round it out, Jack in his lap. You're sketching something as they hug but he can't see what until Jack settles, and when he does, he laughs so hard he almost knocks Jack back out of his lap.

Jack Hotchner, professional frown remover, you've captioned. Jack stands tall and smiling with a love heart on his shirt, his felt marker outlines sewn with care. Aaron Hotchner stands next to him, professional frowner.

Hotch immediately pesters Jack into giving him the right pens for his own turn. He doesn't caption it, unsure what job he'd label either of you with, but it's clear what he's getting at with speech bubbles full of smiley faces.

He thinks he might remember your conversation forever without it, but the drawing serves as a nice memento. He only wishes he were a better artist.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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lilmashae · 9 months

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i had to write for zoro cause he makes me giggle really, super, extra hard.

cw: just some fluffy hcs for zoro, (some) NSFW, modern!au, 18+ characters, black-coded!reader

bf!zoro who knows you're always tired after braiding your hair (or getting it braided) so he makes it a habit to boil some water when he notices how close you are to being done. bf!zoro who knows you'll want to go straight to sleep when you're finished so he makes you something to eat as you dip the ends of your hair and also draws you a warm bath. and don't you dare tell me he won't tuck you in, because he will.

bf!zoro who can barely cook without burning down a building, so once a week he comes-over to your apartment specifically so you can teach him a thing or two about cooking.

bf!zoro who's a gym-rat and works out at least five out of the seven days in a week. he wants you to come with him and when you finally agree you're met ogling girls; stares following him everywhere.

bf!zoro who gets competitive during drinking games, because while everyone else is passed out on the floor the two of you are still at it.

bf!zoro who doesn't officially "live" with you, but as often as he stays the night or drops by your place he might as well move in.

bf!zoro who will literally just hand you money. sometimes you don't even ask he just gives it to you. he'll send it to you on cash-app if he can't get it directly to you; "ik you wanna go shopping.", "for your hair.", "make sure you eat." are the types of messages he'll send with it.

bf!zoro who will insist on carrying all of your bags, opening every door, and pulling out every seat for you.

bf!zoro who makes fun of you when you call him to come-over and kill a bug (he was there in less than five minutes because how can he say no).

NSFW (not really, it's just suggestive)

bf!zoro who gets needy when cuddling. zoro has never been clingy with you. in fact, it didn't even seem like he enjoyed it when you were clingy around him. however, that didn't stop him from doing the small things; surprising you with a hug from behind, holding your hand as the two of you walked in public, or giving you a tender kiss on the cheek before he leaves. but still, it did shock you when you finally realized how close you two were on the sofa. basically stacked on-top one another, his arms clung around you as your face burrowed into the crook of his neck, both of your legs intertwined and etched into each other. you didn't mind, it was nice. it just seemed unusual for the green-haired man. "you okay, y/n?" you both seemed to have fallen asleep, whatever movie or show was playing in the back was forgotten. "yeah, i'm fine." you reply, slowly inching away from him and pushing yourself up--or at least you were before he stopped you. strong arms snaking around your waist as you begin to part hips. "where ya' going? this is nice, isn't it." he quirks his eyebrow looking up at you. "uh-- yes!" you can't help being thrown off, "yes this is so nice." you lay back down. "but... we're a little close don't you think?" his soft chuckles almost make you melt, not focused on the fact he was laughing at you. leaning into your lips he whispered, "do you not like being this close?" and that's when you noticed his hands roaming more than just your waist; one finding it's way into your shorts, while the other was caressing your back under your shirt. so unusual for him... despite that you peck him on the lips before asking, "what's going on with you, roranoa zoro?" he was now squeezing you tight, not suffocating-ly tight, rather tight enough to ensure you two were close; closer. "i can't help myself, i just want to be close to you." and with that said it was only fair that you helped him out... or at least came up with a solution to grant his wish.

#smut #one piece #fem!reader #lil-ma-shae #fanfiction #anime #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #black!reader #zoro x female reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro headcanons

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seokgyuu · 10 months

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Hiya mitchie!! So I’m in a very fluffy mood suddenly and I was thinking about nose boops 🤭 what do u think about seokmin and nose boops and like his freaking smile… 🫠 yeah that’s all I have in my head rn but I’d love it if u would wanna make something with that, preferably fluffy and comforting but honestly I would love absolutely anything that ur incredible mind can come up with 🫶🫶

A/N: my lovely nea <3 here you go, i hope you enjoy this little piece, thank you sm for your request ily!!

PAIRING: Seokmin x Reader

GENRE: Fluff, just cute little fluff

WARNINGS: suggestive

WORDCOUNT: 953

Requests are open! Check out my 1k special!

When you and Seokmin first started dating, there had been a lot of… intimacy. So much that your friends told you to just lock yourselves in your or his dorm room to get it all out of your system. Back then you had replied that you most definitely did not have the time to lock yourself away for the next five years. They had just rolled your eyes at you.

Now, three years later there is still intimacy but you and Seokmin had both learned to control yourselves until you were alone.

What hadn’t changed though was the amount of love between you. The way he had his arms wrapped around you as you stood in the kitchen cooking dinner, his cheek pressed against yours as he told you about his day. The way he would text you memes throughout the day hoping to make you laugh. Seokmin was and is the only person who knows exactly who you are. Who knows what you think and what you need. Sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself.

It's days like these when you’re laying on the floor in the living room under the makeshift fort, blankets hung over furniture and a star projector making you feel like you were actually in the outdoors, that you tell yourself there is no one you love as much as him. He holds your hand in his, both of them laying on top of his chest and you can feel his heartbeat, his pretty voice telling you stories about princesses and kings and witches who all used to go to these woods and undergo the craziest adventures. You look at him, look at the way he is so invested in his own made up story and you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. He stops mid-sentence and freezes for a few seconds, before he turns his head around to face you, his brown eyes wide.

“I wasn’t done yet, Y/N! I still need to tell you how the witch and the prince got themselves out of the candy house!” You chuckle at his words and now press a kiss to his pouty lips instead of his cheek.

“You’re adorable,” you mumble then and red creeps onto his cheeks.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush!” he says, hiding his face dramatically behind his hands. Now, you truly laugh, sitting up to grab his hands away, instead bringing them to your mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. Seokmin looks up at you with all the stars from the projector now in his eyes. When he smiles and sits up too, your heart does what it always does when he is around you. It gets warm and cozy, it jumps happily.You are never this content with anyone but him. He frees his hands out of yours, placing them on your cheeks before leaning down to kiss you - or at least that's what you think he’s about to do. Instead his nose meets yours, slowly rubbing them together, before placing a soft kiss on top of it.

“I love you. I love you so much,” he whispers, pulling you into a hug now and you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his scent, losing yourself in the warmth of his body. You sit like this for a while, feeling his fingers draw all kinds of pictures on your back, his giggle making you giggle. If you could, you would love to just stay seated like this forever.

He parts from you after a while, smile adjoining his lips and you sigh happily.

“What would I do without you?” You ask and he shrugs slightly, finger raised to eventually - boop your nose. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. When he does it again, you snort.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He replies, continuing his spiel as he simultaneously begins to kiss your cheeks, alternating between them every new boop. You are speechless and on cloud nine, not sure how you ever deserved such a loving and caring boyfriend who treats you so well.

“You’re silly,” you laugh and Seokmin joins in, only to stop when his lips meet yours this time.

“And you’re the love of my life,” he whispers then, his fingers now caressing your cheek and moving into your hair. Your heart beat picks up speed.

“Seokminnie…,” you begin, not even sure what happened, how the atmosphere suddenly shifted.

Only when he moves to the side and takes something out of his jacket, you realize. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and tears are about to spill out. Seokmin continues to smile as he gets the little box into your point of view.

“You’re the love of my life,” he repeats, “and I never want to be without you.” He opens the box. You smile and cry and nod your head even before he asks the question.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

You throw yourself on him, kissing his face and lips and dig your fingers into the back of his head as your nods only grow stronger.

“Of course! Of course I will!” You cry and he laughs again, happy tears now also running down his face.

When you part from him so he can put the ring on your finger, you feel like you’re dreaming. And when it’s on and looks beautiful on your ring finger, he lifts it up to kiss your knuckle once more. Then, you’re the one to boop his nose.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” you whisper and he pulls you in, lips on lips as you sink back down onto the floor.

#svthub #seventeen fanfiction #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fluff #dk x reader #dokyeom x you #svt fanfiction #svt au #svt imagine #dk x you #seventeen au #seventeen imagine

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nyrasbloodyclover · 7 months

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ghost stories (tate langdon x reader)

a/n: FIRST OCTOBER FIC LET'S GOOO

It was the beginning of October when my family decided to move into our new house. I was already in love with it, even though my mom said it made her feel depressed by just looking at it.

It was much bigger than our previous home, so the exploring part made me excited. We dropped our bags and I immediately went to see each room.

It was getting pretty dark but I didn't bother turning on the lights. The air smelled of rain as I entered one of the rooms. It looked like it belonged to a boy, probably around my age. There were a lot of records of many different artists, some books and even an empty hamster cage.

"What are you doing in my room?" I turned and almost screamed when a boy appeared behind me. He looked young, with blond curls and pretty brown eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I finally asked when I gathered myself.

"This is my room." He was still not answering my question.

"We just moved in, and I don't know what are you talking about or how you even managed to get in without us noticing but if you plan on staying, I suggest you explain that to me."

And he did explain. But how was I supposed to believe him that he was a ghost who died in this house and is trapped in here forever?

"Prove it." I crossed my arms.

"Fine," he almost rolled his eyes. Then he disappeared. Like literally. From thin air.

"What the fu—" But then he appeared. I shook my head in disbelief and started to laugh. "Oh my god, that's so fucking cool."

"You think so? I'm Tate, by the way." He looked genuinely happy to introduce himself to me.

And so I became friends with one of the ghosts that lived in our house. We talked most of the time, he made fun of my music taste and made me listen to Nirvana (which I surprisingly liked). I read to him sometimes and he listened. He was an amazing listener.

But my parents didn't know about him and I meant to keep it that way.

He was okay with that and it was pretty easy to hide him. I mean whenever we were in my room and someone tried to come in, Tate just had to disappear.

The more we hung out, the closer we became. Sitting beside each other on my bed turned into him laying between my legs while I did my homework and he listened to his music. But we never tried to point that out. At least I haven't.

I pretended not to notice him drawing circles on my skin or playing with my hair, his hands wandering carefully, trying not to be too obvious. That made me feel...something. Something towards him. I hated it because we had such great friendship and admitting my feelings would just ruin it.

Until one night I was pissed about my school and I was just rambling to him, saying the worst stuff I could about everything and I had a feeling that he was trying not to laugh at me, but I didn't care.

He called me to join him on my bed and take a break from studying because it was getting late. For the first time, I listened to him.

And at some point, both of us fell asleep. I was exhausted and my body was screaming thank you when I finally closed my eyes.

But in the middle of the night, I woke up in panic because I never planned to fall asleep. I didn't even finish all my work!

In all my distress, I woke up Tate and he looked at me with his adorable sleepy eyes while I ran around the room and gathered all my books. He realized what I was doing and immediately stood up with intention to drag me back to bed.

"No, Tate, I have to finish this!"

"Relax. You need sleep. It's three in the morning."

"Yes, but how will I sleep when I know I left half of my assignments unfinished?"

He smiled innocently at me while I looked at him, not understanding his sudden mood change.

"I can help you fall asleep. If you want to." I looked at him, then at my books.

I was still confused. "I do, but...You have sleeping pills or something?"

At that he grinned at the floor and my chest fluttered.

"Let's just get to bed. I'll show you, but you have to relax." I couldn't hear a thing in that moment, not even the rain, not the pounding in my chest. I wasn't oblivious anymore. I knew what he meant and I still let him do whatever he pleased.

In seconds I was on bed with Tate slowly climbing on top of me. My face was burning and I couldn't see straight, but I didn't move.

He slowly put his hand on my pants, tucking his fingers beneath the waistband. "May I?"

I just nodded, not being able to form a proper sentence, but it was enough for him to take both, my pants and my underwear down.

His dark eyes were literally glowing while his mouth watered at the sight of me. Tate spread my legs and lowered himself enough to reach my aching cunt.

He looked up, smiling innocently before he went to work. His tongue licked me, up and down and I immediately grabbed his blond locks for support. He repeated the movement and it made me want to let out ungodly sounds, but I remembered we weren't alone and my parents were probably sleeping. If they found us like this, with Tate's head between my legs and my fingers in his hair...I would be joining Tate at being dead.

He put one finger in while his tongue circled my swollen clit and I accidentally pulled his hair. He let out a soft groan and I almost smirked for myself. I did it again and Tate groaned into me.

He didn't plan on stopping, apparently. Tate wanted me to see stars. I just wasn't sure how was this going to help with my sleep. I felt like I wasn't going to be able to close an eye for the rest of the night.

Tate decided to add another finger and I almost lost it there, but I couldn't let myself ruin this perfect moment. Not yet.

"If I add one more will you stop being to stubborn?"

"Let's find out." And he wasn't kidding. He stretched me put enough to put his third finger in and I moaned into my hand, not being able to control myself anymore.

He continued working with his tongue and it didn't take me long after that to lift my hips as I came on his mouth. He pressed his hand over my stomach to pin me back on bed as I clenched around his fingers.

He got up, licking his fingers and cleaning up his swollen mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He took it off and did the same with my mess.

My legs were weak, I could barely change, but he helped me and got under the covers.

I joined him and realized that I haven't once thought about my assignments.

"Tate?"

"Yes?"

"Are we still friends?"

"Of course. Especially when you're in the need of sleeping pills."

I fell asleep with the weight of his hand on me while rain pounded on my window.

#evan peters #american horror story #ahs #evan peters fanfic #tate langdon fic #tate ahs #tate #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #american horror murder house #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story fanfic

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lamaenthel · 2 months

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Waterboarding

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: Waterboarding

Kal dips a towel in the bucket and folds it in half. "What we are doing today is called waterboarding," he says, pretending like he's alone. It's a dummy on the table, not a real little boy. Not his little boy. "It feels just like drowning." "Can it kill you?" Ordo asks. "Yes, but it's hard to do accidentally." Kal picks up the filled pitcher. "I'd have to keep going after you went unconscious." Ordo nods, filing the information away in that magnificent brain of his. "I'm ready whenever you are, Sir." Kal wants to scream, punch someone, burn down the white, sterile hell they're trapped in until it's nothing but black ash, anything except what they came to do. Instead, he puts the towel over his son's face and starts to pour.

Characters: Null-11|Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata Wordcount: 759

Kal hates the rain and the way it makes his shattered ankle ache, he hates the food, he hates the way he knows he's trapped on the dar'mandla planet, but what he hates most of all about Kamino is the fierfecking sterility of it all. White walls, white floors, white clothes on the longnecks with larval-white skin and white rings in their eyes, it all makes him dizzy. He's forgotten what mud smells like. Sometimes he breaks the inkballs at the practice range on purpose just to see some color on the walls.

At least they were smart enough not to dress little boys in white. Ordo's kaminii'a fatigues are red to differentiate him at a glance from the rank-and-file cadets in blue. In Kal's opinion, anyone with a set of eyes should be able to do that at a glance based on the defiance and mando'kar that sparkles in the eyes of his ad'ikase, but he isn't paid for his opinion. Those little red fatigues are thin, made from duraweave and were designed to not show dirt and dry quickly when wet.

"Do you know why I brought you here today, Ord'ika?" Kal asks his boy, squeezing his little hand twice.

Ordo squeezes back. "I assume it's enhanced interrogation resistance based on the last time we used this room," he replies casually.

"My clever boy." Ordo's five years old, looks ten, and speaks like he's twenty. Kal's heart breaks even more for what he has to do. "Yes, we're training for that today."

"And that's why we're alone." Ordo smiles at Kal's nod, happy to have gotten it right.

"Yes. This is best done solus bal'solus."

"One and one?"

"Yes, one and one. Means just the two of us Mandos." Kal smiles and keys the door. It's a small white room without a defined purpose—a rare thing for Kamino, where everything has a purpose—set up today with only a metal table, a pile of white towels, a white sanitation bucket, and a white pitcher. Even the water comes out white when he turns the tap on.

"Chilly in here." Ordo hops up onto the metal table and sits with his hands in his lap like he's at the doctor, though a normal kid would kick their legs back and forth instead of sitting deadly still like a snake in the corn.

"That's on purpose. Water evaporates off your skin and takes your warmth with it. That's why we sweat." Kal turns the tap off and takes a long breath to steady himself. "I'm going to have to hurt you today, son. You know I hate to do it, but you've got to learn."

Ordo's eyes are wide and dark in his little copper face. He nods, solemn like always. "I know, Sir."

Kal presses their foreheads together in a brief kov'nyn then draws back, distancing himself emotionally as well as physically from his son. "Take your shirt off and lay down with your head at the edge of the table."

Ordo, good lad that he is, folds his shirt before he obeys precisely. He keeps his arms straight down at his sides, standing at attention even while laying down.

"Can it kill you?" Ordo asks.

"Yes, but it's hard to do accidentally." Kal picks up the filled pitcher. "I'd have to keep going after you went unconscious."

Ordo nods, filing the information away in that magnificent brain of his. "I'm ready whenever you are, Sir."

Kal wants to scream, punch someone, burn down the white, sterile hell they're trapped in until it's nothing but black ash, anything except what they came to do. Instead, he puts the towel over his son's face and starts to pour. He watches Ordo stay still at first, then start to struggle once he runs out of air. Kal holds his boy down with a firm hand on his chest. "Thirty seconds, trooper, that's an order," he barks sharply. "Put all of your fear and pain into a box like I taught you. It's not happening to you. It doesn't even exist. Endure this."

As Kal watches Ordo fight his own instinct to survive, he can't help but wonder if the children he sired with Illipi didn't have the right idea about declaring him dar'buir after all.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

#ordo skirata #kal skirata #repcomm #febuwhump #febuwhumpday25 #waterboarding #my writing #clone troopers #nulls

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poisonedbywine · 3 months

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Illusion

Leon S. Kennedy x female reader

Warnings: Bullying, Violence, swearing, strong words

Notes: I had this in my head for a while... Today is so cold and I love writing in the cold, even with my fingers frozen.

English is not my native language, Translator may have made a spelling error.

I had a best friend.

His name was Leon, he was in his first year of elementary school.

-"Can you swing me?" Leon pulled me to the swing.

-"I push you!" I gave a big smile with my eyes almost closed and I started to push the swing, seeing it fly in the sky.

-"I'M FLYING!" Leon shouted, which made me laugh and shake as hard as I could.

And when I least expected it, Leon fell off the swing.

There I was, sitting in the uncomfortable chair in the hospital waiting room.

Everyone looking at me.

-"What's a kid supposed to be doing here?" A girl whispered.

The nurse told me that Leon's uncles they asked me to go home, as it was already dark.

I smiled and agreed, handing them a small drawing as an apology for the broken arm.

I shouldn't have stood by and watched

I was supposed to help my friend.

The next day, Leon was sitting on the stool.

I wasn't excited to play today

Mom fought with me, because I had broken Leon's arm.

I just stayed quiet, receiving the scolding

-"Bad girl! No one told you to do that to your only best friend, at least he accepts you the way you are."- Mom's words echoed in my head.

Leon hugged me.

Like a bear, squeezing me really tight.

I want to know why he's hugging me

But even so, I hugged him back and smiled.

-" Do not worry, everything is fine."-

-"I was the one swinging the swing, Lee."- I take a sigh

Leon said everything was fine, and that he would let me sign his cast with my markers.

I smiled and said goodbye to him, heading to my classroom.

A little ball of paper was thrown at me

I opened it, and on it was a drawing of a whale with my name on top.

I heard my classmates laughing behind me

I wanted to cry.

So I lay down on my little table and I laid my head on my arms, which were on top of the wood, hiding my eyes.

And I cried

My eyes wet everything, especially my pillows and my teddy bears at night.

The bell had rung

Snack time!!

I ran down the stairs and sat on the stool where Leon and I were.

I waited for him, like every day

There he was, with his Iron Man lunch box and his arm and cast full of drawings that his classmates had made, running to me.

I smiled, moving to the side so he could sit down.

-"I brought the pen." - I said quietly

-"I saved your place here"- Leon pointed to a small blank patch on the plaster.

I made a colorful drawing of me and him holding hands.

-" What did they do today?"-

I didn't want Leon to know they were mean to me again today, even though he always found out the truth.

That's why I said nothing unusual happened

-"You are cool, my star. Don't let them say otherwise."- Leon he put his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into a hug.

-" I'm already seven years old, I already know how to take care of myself very well."-

Leon laughed, but soon the bell rang and I had to say goodbye.

I got home and ran up the stairs to my room

I covered my ears with my hands and curled up on the bed

I hated when mom and dad fought

Mom always came out crying and with a black eye

He took his anger out on everything, including me

But they're the only people who love me

I don't blame them for anything.

I love them very much, because they have not abandoned me.

The next day, I didn't want to go to school.

It was physical education and I hated it

But, unfortunately, daddy made me go

Daddy was bad sometimes

Sometimes.

Including the times he made me go to school

When I arrived, Leon wasn't there

One of his friends told me that he missed his wake-up time, and ended up missing

I would be alone today

When the bell rang, I would jump over the wall and run to my bed

I entered the sports court and sat down on the floor

I was the last to be chosen.

I was on a good team!

I liked football, so I managed to score a goal, I was so happy with myself.

But when I went to get the ball, one of the boys on my team pushed me to the ground

-"GET OUT OF MY WAY"- The boy screamed and kicked my stomach on purpose, he walked away and joined the other boys.

I screamed in pain and lay on the floor, some girls on my team laughed.

"STOP LAUGHING!"

I had the strength to get up from the floor and scream as loud as I could

Everyone looked at me

"So the whale can talk?" One of the bad boys spoke

"Shut up! SHUT UP!!"

"Let's teach this girl a lesson."

Both teams came running towards me with their fists closed, and I covered my face with my hands.

Punches, kicks, slaps, were received against my body on the floor, curled up on the green grass of the football field.

"Stronger"

"Let's throw harder punches!"

"Whale, obese."

"Weak."

"You are a backstop."

"I hope you die."

I no longer had the strength to fight all this

When I woke up I was in my bed

My body hurt, my face was hurting, and my lips were swollen and bleeding.

I only remembered the boys hitting me and the teacher separating everyone

I also remember my mother's face when she saw me

Dad was disappointed in me

I wanted to see Leon

He would know what to say to me at these times

Despite being hurt, I limped downstairs and asked to go to Leon's house.

Mom left, which made me feel a little better inside

I fought the pain and walked to Leon's house

I rang the doorbell and waited

A tall figure appeared

-"How can I help?" - I looked up and saw the unexpected

What happened in the two weeks I was home?

Leon's parents were there

I asked where Leon was

He looks at me with a serious face, saying that I shouldn't bother.

I sighed and lowered my head, heading back home while kicking the poor rocks along the way.

2 months passed and I never spoke to Leon again

He knew everything that happened to me that terrible day

He apologized and hugged me

That was the last time he hugged me since then.

Tomorrow is my birthday and mom made me invite everyone in my class.

I did as she ordered.

And I invited Leon

Today was the big day, I was excited!

Since mom and dad were fighting, mom is the only one who will stay at the party, I believe.

I helped with the decoration and I decorated my cake myself, it was so beautiful.

And now I'm alone waiting for someone to ring the doorbell

Mom came out and said she was going to invite Dad to my party

Nobody showed up

Much less Leon

Tears came down from my eyes exactly when it was 10 o'clock at night.

My cake was whole

Then the doorbell rings

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY STAR."

I wiped the tears and quickly hugged Leon

I explained to him what happened

And he explained to me what had happened to him

Leon would move

His parents have decided to take care of him, but he will go to another country

Today was your last day

I begged and asked him not to leave

But he didn't do it

Leon hugged me and said goodbye, saying his last words

"Will we ever meet again, Lee?"

"Yes... one day."

"When?"

"When I turn 18, then we can do a lot of things together."

"Okay, can we meet at the same playground as usual?"

"In the same playground as always."

"I love you, Lee."

"I love you too, my little star."

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

Life has never been this difficult since Leon left

Separation from parents, changes, rejection... What a beautiful life

I had few friends, just 2, but college separated us

Life was never wonderful

That promise I made with Leon when I was 8 years old is complete today and I honestly don't want to go to the park.

He promised me and I promised, promises shouldn't be broken, right?

I ran to the park

All the memories were running through my mind

Maybe he doesn't even remember me

All the moments together were the best memories I had

So I arrived at the park

I was late, but I was there

I sat on the bench and waited

Three hours have passed since then

The moon was coming little by little, the sun was waving goodbye behind the mountains

I found myself alone in the park now, waiting for someone who would never come

Leon never kept his promise, that was clear... But I'll still stay here

I know he's somewhere, somewhere far away.

That's one of the worst feelings

I gave up waiting for Leon

"All these years... I waited for you..."

"Are you just my imagination playing tricks?"

"I was so alone, Leon... Why did you leave?"

"It was all a big, painful illusion."

I turned my back and went home.

They were soulmates that could have worked

Leon remembered his promise

He caught the first flight into town

He arrived early, but it was for a good reason, he wanted to see you so much

But it was too soon

Leon waited until 3 o'clock in the afternoon, there was no longer any reason for him to stay there

You had forgotten him, and it hurt.

Leon collected his things and went to the taxi, there was an hour until the next flight back to his city.

He left a letter in the bank, leaving some of his last hope

Fate didn't understand

It was a windy day and in a few seconds, the letter flew away.

You came running to the park

But Leon was already getting into the taxi

Meanwhile, you were waiting for him. Without hope and with a disturbed life

The two went their separate ways

But what if it had happened? What if you had arrived seconds earlier at the park?

And if...

But the past is the past.

They are connected to invisible wires.

No matter how stretched and tangled this thread is, it will never break.

Even if it takes centuries and lives, you will meet again

Can finally join together as one

And like all the stories we heard as a child

Be happy forever.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy

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hold-him-down · 10 months

Text

Leo Tells a Story

TW: references to whipping, references to institutionalized slavery

Notes: somewhere around the 2 year mark

✥ ✥ ✥

“I don’t think I’m getting out of here before midnight,” Luke grumbles from the other end of the line. Rob Bennett can practically hear the frown lines deepening as he pictures his guilt-laden younger brother considering all the possible ways to excuse himself from the late session on the senate floor.

There’s unrest, though. Last week, a new bill had been introduced allowing for broader use of corporal punishment on the private level, and when the public got ahold of it, protests immediately began. Luke had been held in emergency sessions almost every day since, but seldom had they taken him past sunset.

“Can you do me a favor?” Luke asks now. Rob nods, although Luke won’t see it.

“You want me to stop by your place?” he asks, pizza in one hand and a stuffed animal in the other. He lobs it into Eliza’s bedroom, empty now for the next week. “You know he’s probably up to his ears in Moby Dick or something equally enthralling.”

And he thinks it’s probably true, but still, lately his visits to Luke’s house have been a good opportunity to build something good in the shit storm that is brewing.

✥ ✥ ✥

Rob’s first thought when he walks into his brother’s townhouse and finds Leo laying on the floor, an obscenely fat book resting open on his chest, his eyes closed but his fingers fisted: Leo is drunk?

Rob’s second thought, immediately after: That doesn’t sound like the Leo he has come to know and love.

“Hi,” Leo says (mumbles?) then, but he doesn’t move. And then, he adds, “I don’t feel good,” and a few pieces fall into place.

With a smile of equal parts fondness and sympathy, Rob drops to a kneel beside him, plucking the book off his chest and dog-earing the page before setting it to the side. Leo squints up at him, his eyes just slightly unfocused, and rolls over with a groan. He pushes himself up onto the sofa, Rob kind-of-sort-of shadowing the movements while trying not to be too obvious.

“Did you at least take the good drugs?” Rob says, hand hovering just over Leo’s shoulder blades. He can never quite pinpoint what the right move here is, but he’s pretty sure at this point that hovering is exactly what his brother would do, so he rolls with it.

Leo folds himself in half, his head between his knees, the curve of his spine visible through his shirt. Rob nudges him, offering a sympathetic smile as Leo’s eyes meet his. “Leo?”

“I don’t know,” Leo says. “Aspirin?” he continues. His arm curls under his knees and he draws his body in tighter. And then, as if on cue, he adds, “Luke said I could. I thought it would help.”

Rob picks the discarded bill bottle from the coffee table, rotating it in his hands. “Aspirin fucks with you?”

Leo nods, a miserable sound coming from him, but he rights himself then, staring at the bottle in Rob’s hand. “Only when I chase it with tequila.”

For a moment, Rob freezes, gauging the likelihood that Leo is fucking with him. Uncertainty colors his generally pretty casual demeanor. Would he be shocked if Leo finally said fuck it and tapped into his probably-moronic twenty-five-year-old instincts to dull the ache of what he suspected was near constant discomfort? Yes, he decides. He would be. Still–

“Leo,” Rob says, uncapping Leo’s bottle of water and tilting it toward him. He pauses. “I don’t say this to freak you out, but are you fucking with me right now?”

Leo laughs out a breath but nods into his knees, then stretches his back and rights himself, planting his feet on the floor. He takes the water and clears his throat, wincing as he does. “Sorry,” Leo says. And then, he adds, “Yes. Most drugs mess with me.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of medical sense,” Rob says as he sits, setting the bottle back down. “Was it always that way?”

Leo shakes his head. “It got worse after the… – training– started. I don’t know, they made me take a lot. Sometimes I think they were trying to make me sick. Sometimes they would bet on how sick I would get.” He sucks in a deep breath and Rob nods, trying to keep the open fury from registering on his face. “I think it started then. Some Pavlovian thing.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he replies distantly. They’re silent as the news begins a broadcast of the Senate meeting. There’s no sound, but Luke’s speaking… emphatically, with a banner of updates running beneath him.

“Luke said your back’s been giving you trouble?” Rob asks minutes later, eying the way Leo holds himself now.

“My neck,” Leo corrects. “Usually it’s okay, I don’t… I must have just slept wrong.”

“You’re too young to have neck pains from sleeping wrong. Luke making you sleep on the floor again?” he asks with a smile. Leo’s eyes are still on the TV, his expression devoid of any real emotion, but there’s something there. Rob gives him a moment before he says, gentler now, “Can I take a look?”

Leo, for his part, mostly looks tired. “It just hurts sometimes,” he says, bowing his head. He puts his hands over his ears, locking his fingers around his head, and Rob recognizes the gesture for what it is: bracing himself, holding himself still, doing what he needs to do.

Rob is light in his touch, asking Leo to move when he needs to, pinpointing the pressure points. Leo’s jumpy, because Leo’s always jumpy, but there’s also an alarming amount of tension along the muscles.

Maybe he did sleep wrong. Maybe he pulled something. Maybe he carries a lot of tension generally, and it wears him down.

But for Leo Evans to willfully open that pill bottle–

“How often does it hurt?” Rob asks, guiding Leo’s chin up and gently pressing along his spine.

Leo swallows. “Not often,” he replies. “Not usually.”

As Rob releases him, Leo adds, “It’s not a big deal,” and then, he amends: “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“Okay,” Rob says lightly. “It can be a small ticket item. But–” he takes a breath “–if I only have half the story, I will feel… very sad.”

Leo lifts his head, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll feel... sad?” Leo repeats, with just a hint of, maybe teasing, behind his tone?

“Very,” Rob says, holding his eye contact for a second longer than he needed to. Sometimes, in these moments, Rob is reminded that Leo can hold his own. That he’s not this broken person everyone thinks he is. That he doesn’t need to be handled with kid gloves the way his parents handle him, that he doesn’t need the protection Luke constantly seeks to provide.

And then his mouth works ahead of his brain and he says, “Will you tell me why your neck hurts, as seldom as it may?” And if he planned out his words, he might phrase it as less of a demand, but it’s there, and it lingers. “I promise it’ll stay between us, if that’s what you want.”

Leo whistles out a sharp breath, and his eyes meet Rob’s, and his expression shifts. He glances at the TV, where Luke continues to absolutely dominate the senate floor, and turns it off.

“I don’t think I’m really supposed to talk about it,” he says, after a prolonged pause.

Rob goes to the bar and pours himself a glass of scotch, offering one to Leo. Unsurprisingly, he shakes his head.

When Rob returns, he takes a slow drink, then sets it to the side.

Every muscle in Leo’s body is tense, his fight or flight response laid out in front of them, and just as Rob considers the exact words he needs to speak to let him off the hook, Leo’s hands ball into fists at his side and he takes a deep breath.

Leo tells Rob the story then, unexpected in its own right, about the day– one of the days, maybe– that he was tortured just for the sake of being tortured. Complete with a fucking… presentation, and doctors, and video cameras. He recounts it with a detached precision that rattles Rob, the feeling of the whip slicing into his muscles, the feeling of fingers pressing into wounds, the sleepless nights that followed and the uncertainty of when it would happen again.

When he finishes, Rob’s holding his cup so tightly his fingers are white. He takes a breath, forcibly loosening his muscles, and swallows. He waits until he’s sure he can speak calmly to speak at all, so keenly aware that Leo’s waiting, and that Leo doesn’t do well with Big Feelings, although nothing in his immediate expression or posture gives it away.

Leo shrugs then, not for the first time that evening.

“So that’s why it hurts sometimes,” he says softly, his eyes glued to Rob’s fingers, his grip on that glass a preview of what will one day be his grip on the neck of whoever was in charge of that fucking site.

He takes a breath, the new knowledge settling into him, working its way through his nervous system and penetrating the core of who he is. He thinks of all the ways he’ll get the site shut down, of all the ways he’ll get the whole fucking system shut down; he thinks of what Luke will say when he tells him, and in almost the same instant that he remembers, Leo says-

“You can’t tell him.”

And Rob swallows, setting his empty glass on a magazine on the table. Leo’s waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t know where to begin. The medical concerns with an experimental torture device slicing into Leo’s neck and causing what is probably irreparable damage. The mental scars that he’s always known run so deep in this boy, but maybe he still doesn’t fucking get how deep. The absolute blind rage that he can’t contain enough to even push out the simplest of words.

“It’s illegal,” is all Rob can come up with, what could be full minutes later.

“It doesn’t matter,” Leo replies. “It doesn’t matter if it’s legal or not; I don’t think anyone cares about the legality of anything happening in those sites.” Leo’s expression is almost completely devoid of emotion, a perfect mask trained into him by some asshole in some white room somewhere, but Rob knows there’s turmoil behind them.

“It matters, Leo. It all fucking matters. You matter. Your suffering matters. Your personhood fucking–” He doesn’t clock the aggression in his own tone, the volume of his voice, the fury behind his eyes, until he looks at Leo. He swallows back his anger. He’ll find the video. He’ll find the video, or Luke will, and things will change. They have to.

He can hear the key turning in the lock, he sees Leo’s eye land on the door behind him, and he swallows back whatever pieces of the rage that he can in time for his brother to step into the living room.

taglist: @whump-cravings, @afabulousmrtake, @crystalquartzwhump, @maracujatangerine, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @distinctlywhumpthing, @thecyrulik, @highwaywhump, @batfacedliar-yetagain, @finder-of-rings, @dont-touch-my-soup, @skyhawkwolf, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @also-finder-of-rings, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @prodigal-zoe, @peachy-panic, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @urban-dark, @nicolepascaline, @quietly-by-myself, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-blog, @seasaltandcopper, @angstyaches, @i-msonotcreative, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @anonintrovert, @whump-world, @squishablesunbeam, @considerablecolors, @whumpcereal, @whumperfully,

#the fighter #references to whipping #references to institutionalized slavery #this was actually the winner of the poll so #here you have it #!!

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senjusonlygirlfriend · 2 years

Text

Moving in with the Tr characters!

𝑻𝒘/𝑪𝒘: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝑮𝒏!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏

𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 :𝑫

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒚, 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏, 𝑴𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒚𝒖, 𝑰𝒏𝒖𝒊, 𝒀𝒖𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂, 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒖

Manjiro "Mikey" Sano:

He had moved in with you, and he still fucking brought that crusty, musty, dusty blanket even though he's an adult. You'd both have the most random decoration in your apartment, all from Mikey. But hey, at least he asks before putting anything up! I would say both of your favorite places in the apartment is the shared bedroom. It's just so cozy to him, and he normally lays on top of you while you're doing work or just relaxing. Both of you for sure has one of those led toilet lights....

Ken "Draken" Ryuguji:

I feel like he would like to have a simple apartment. You would move in with him, not that he minds anyway. Doesn't really care about decoration and leaves you to decorate. He does sometimes stumble onto something during the day that would be nice to have in the apartment, and he'll bring it home. He's also scared you quite a few times getting up in the middle of the night to get something to eat, you forget that you moved in.

Takashi Mitsuya:

The both of you started out living in a small apartment before getting a bigger house. Mitsuya had his own room to sew all his clothes, there was fabric and drawings everywhere on the floor. Decoration wise, he enjoys decorating with you. He would want your opinion since you're living there too. Loves coming home to see you snuggled up on the couch in lots of blankets, watching tv.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

Peke J is definitely coming with Chifuyu if he were to move in with you (if they're still alive). He's had pictures of the two of you and Peke J framed and can finally hang them up. Asks someone from Toman(like Takemichi or Mikey) helps with first moving in. The first night you stayed at the new place, the both of you ordered pizza while watching tv. The mattress was on the floor in the morning, and that's where you slept.

Seishu Inui:

Your place is mad clean and organized, because I think that Inui would be an organized person. Like you can see your own reflection on the surfaces of things like tables and stuff. He wined the whole time the both of you had to move everything in, yet refused to take a break. I think he would love to have kind of a cozy atmosphere to come back to from work, so your place would have that kind of vibe.

Yuzuha Shiba:

She's so excited!! She finally has a place that she can call a safe space after what happened in a certain arc. Your place is kinda messy, but you both know where everything is. She loves taking the day off of work with you to lounge around in the apartment, sleeping in. You both wear each other's clothes, so you share the same closet. She also likes to take days off with you to go decor shopping, then come back and set it up.

Senju Kawaragi:

Your place by far is the most....... interesting. It's either your place has the strangest things or the most aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, not in between. She probably got most of your apartment's decor from Pintrest, since you both share an account. Half the time she still uses Takeomi's credit card to buy stuff offline. Both of you also have that toilet light as well. Her favorite thing to do is lay on top of you with lots of blankets and pillows, your cat somewhere lot in them, and some crappy drama soap opera late at night.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #mikey fluff #draken x reader #draken fluff #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya fluff #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff #Inui x reader #inui fluff #yuzuha x reader #yuzuha fluff #senju x reader #senju fluff

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charlewiss · 2 years

Text

loved by you / daniel ricciardo

masterlist

summary: first rule in y/n's book: don't fall in love with your brother's best friend, daniel. what do you do when the inevitable happens?

word count: 784 words.

you weren't planning to fall for daniel ricciardo. in fact, you had avoided it since you can remember. him, being your brother's best friend, was there since you could remember. at birthdays, anniversaries, even on holidays like christmas and new year's. it was almost impossible to get away from him, but you had done it successfully.

at least until last new year's party. after a couple of drinks, dancing and getting sweaty on a random club in monaco, your brother, who had invited you, was nowhere to be seen. so, in a moment of clarity, you decided it was time to go home.

'hey, are you alone?' daniel appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his hand on your wrist, just when you were about to get out of there. without intending to, he drawed you into him, causing you two to clash in the middle. 'oh, sorry about it' you said, trying to put some distance between your bodies, as to remember the rule you had set all those years ago to yourself: don't get too close with daniel ricciardo.

getting more sober because of the realization, you continued to explain 'yeah, michael disappeared a while ago so I decided it was best to go home' you checked your phone, showing him the time. 'it's kinda late already'

'i will go with you' he sentenced, and interlaced your fingers together, now taking the initiative and getting you two out of the packed club. at the sudden drop in the temperature, you shivered and daniel noticed instantly, taking his hoodie off to give it to you. 'here, it's too cold for you'.

you two made it back to the hotel were you both were staying. but too stupid to notice or too drunk to care, one thing led to another and now daniel and you were kissing in his room, bodies pressed against eachother and messily walking to the bed. when you two separated to breathe some needed air, it was like something clicked on daniel's head. you were about to push him into the bed when he stopped you.

'i really want to be with you, but you're michael's sister' he said, realization now dawning on his face. 'you didn't seem to care when you were all over me two seconds ago, dan' you said annoyed. 'what's the real problem?'

after a few seconds, he spoke, now fiddling with his fingers and with his eyes glued to the carpet below him. 'if this goes sideways, I don't want to lose you. or him' the curly haired boy whispered. you scoffed. 'you won't. why are you so scared? your job is 100% times more scary and you do it without a second thought' you said, sitting on the bed to put your heels back and preparing to leave the room, thinking that he didn't want anything to do with you.

'i've been doing it my while life. i don't care about the consequences it could bring. but I don't want you to go through it' he said, not finally looking at you. 'and you think that pushing me away will help? you think that if something happened to you now, I wouldn't care?' getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom where you checked your hair and makeup to ensure that you didn't look too messed up. 'at least I won't break your heart' you heard daniel said softly, still sitting on the bed.

'how are you so sure you'll break my heart? is this supposed to be a fucking game to you?' you almost screamed, getting out of the bathroom and going to confront him. he got up from the bed quickly and towered over you. 'stop talking bullshit, y/n. i don't deserve it'. you half laughed again, now grabbing your purse that was laying on the floor and making your way to the door. 'oh, i'm sorry sir, you don't deserve what? being faced with your stupidity? you could use some self reflection sometimes'

what you didn't know was just how much he wanted this too. he wanted to be the one you thought about before going to sleep and the firs thought when you wake up. he wanted to be the one to make you laugh. but he also knew the trouble it would cause you to be that close to him. the amount of press, the hate, the distance that would inevitably broke you two apart. he didn't know if what he had to offer would be worth it at the end. he knew you deserved the world, he just didn't know if he could give it to you.

'no, I don't deserve being loved by you'.

#f1 imagine #f1 x yn #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 one shot #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo blurb

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 2 years

Note

So in the cuddle pile of the first years, how exactly are they place? like one on top of the other (lol)

Cuddle pile cuddle pile cuddle pile!!! :D

Gotta love a good cuddle pile, now don’t we~? The placement can actually vary as Yuu makes friends with the first years, which means it’s a process to find a comfy spot that doesn’t result in limbs going numb and someone accidentally getting smooshed. XD So why don’t I explain how the placement goes as each character joins? 0v0

…at least until I can figure out how to draw said cuddle piles, though I may need to design everyone first. 😂

Now, keep in mind that while the story in this AU does mostly follow the plot of the game and the prologue essentially happens the same way, it’s totally up to you to determine who your character meets and when as well as the friendship that they develop. Explore those friendships! Have them accidentally fall on Sebek in the library trying to climb a ladder to get to a book on a high shelf or meet Epel under an apple tree learning how to cut apples! Have fun with them! ÒwÓ

Ahem…now then!

Cuddle pile 1: Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

Comfort rating: 6.5. Comfy, but plenty of room to slide to the floor and get an achy back if not careful!

Deuce is the pillow and allows Yuu and Ace to lean against his side, though typically Deuce will need support for his torso unless he lays completely on his side rather than on his stomach. Grim will straight up fall asleep either between Deuce’s forelegs or across his back like a limp noodle. Sometimes Ace will fluff up his wings and drape it across Yuu to keep them warm, though he’ll say it’s something that skvader’s do instinctively with siblings if teased about it.

Cuddle pile 2: Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Jack.

Comfort rating: 8. Warm and comfy, lots of support on all sides. Easy to switch positions for comfort.

Deuce and Jack create a circle around the others with Jack resting his head on Deuce’s haunches and vice versa. Ace, Yuu, and Grim will use one or the other as a pillow depending, and this has more often than not wound up with two of them sprawled over both at the same time and one practically made a nest in Jack’s fur and is currently purring up a storm.

Cuddle pile 3: Ace, Deuce, Grim, Jack, and Epel.

Comfort rating: 9.5. Very soft and warm; great weighted pressure that calms and reassures!

All the smalls in the middle again! Somehow it feels crowded in a comforting sort of way, everyone managing to find a way to curl up against someone and not have their arms or legs go numb. Epel wants to be leaned on too, though he winds up leaning against Deuce or Jack and resting his torso on their back. At some point Yuu winds up with both Ace and Epel curled up around them and Grim sleeping on their chest.

Cuddle pile 4: Ace, Deuce, Grim, Jack, Epel, and Sebek.

Comfort rating: 20/10! Ultimate cuddle pile; safest spot in Twisted Wonderland; highly recommended!

Wow, somehow they managed to get Sebek to quiet down long enough to relax and fall asleep! Perhaps the most notorious cuddle monster given he’s a basilisk, meaning he will instinctively seek sources of heat for warmth. Deuce and Jack are good sources yes, but Sebek practically drapes himself over the small ones in the middle of the cuddle pile like a reptile guarding their nests. Can be heavy, but with Jack and Deuce providing elevation it’s minimal. Best nap you’ll ever have!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim

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capricioussun · 2 months

Note

Asking for au headcanons your choice on which au!

Au headcanons for !!! A bunch of random ones actually lol

✿ In sweetswap, everything is very pastel and soft looking, for the most part, so after surfacing, monsters are genuinely taken aback and a bit surprised how saturated and dense the colours of the surface are. They thought the books and movies might've been artistically exaggerated...

✿ Ice, Invertedfell Papyrus, doesn't have the soft spot for animals most other Fell Papyri have, but he'd actually be excellent at caring for them, and generally finds them easier to deal with than other monsters lol

✿ Void, of Vesselfell fame /j, wasn't always like that! I don't think I address it very often, but he didn't become a Vessel until around 12 ish. Before then, he was almost just a regular Fell Papyrus.

✿ Sylv, Underswap Undyne, focuses a lot more on biological sciences as the Royal Scientist. She's nearly more akin to a medical doctor with her knowledge and specialties, while Axel, Alphys, still has an interest in tech. They still met the same way as in Undertale...

✿ I'm not sure if I've talked about it here or not, but I have a Sometimes-Headcanon that after surfacing Underfell Asgore basically goes into a sort of permanent assistance/rehab type place. It's years before anyone visits (after the one time Gerson does shortly after surfacing), the first being Undyne, and then eventually Papyrus a few years later. Someone comes to check in him at least every few years after that. He’s...content, there.

✿ I've always kind of liked the idea of Grillby having hypnotizing magic, though he rarely if ever uses it, and it's not super strong/wears off quickly

✿ Dusk, Horrorfell Papyrus, can't paint like he used to, but he eventually comes to find comfort in doing what he can, mostly using his knuckles and laying a canvas flat on the floor. Sometimes his cats help lol

✿ Patch, Horrortale Sans, prefers milder weather, making Fall his favorite season. He’s not a fan of Halloween, but sometimes he'll nap in a pile of leaves when he’s done (or taking a break from) raking.

✿ Lace, Lovefell Papyrus, likes doing crafts! Of all kinds. Beading, embroidery, crocheting, wood burning (I can't remember what it's called, when you draw in wood by burning it), sewing, you name it! If it can be done by hand, he enjoys doing it <3

✿ Iris, Underswap Toriel, is an incredible singer. She sounds classically trained, and back in the day, people could hear her singing all the time. It's not so common anymore, but every once in a blue moon, she can be heard singing quietly in the throne room.

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ktkat99 · 10 months

Text

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 11. Hanging (By A Thread)

TW: Depression and loss of apatite.

"It feels like breathing is a chore. Like something you have to do. Like something you should be able to do on your own, but you just keep forgetting. You… you feel like you're walking, trying to just keep moving forwards, but with every step, someones adding more and more weight. But you know you can't stop. You're not allowed. Because everyone always says that if you just keep going, it will all get better. And so all your focus is on just… moving. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. But it keeps getting harder and harder. And then sometimes you wake up and realize you've been so focused on just moving that you've blocked out literally everything else. Your life, your friends, your family. The whole world. It's all kept moving without you. You weren't necessary."

Tim shifted and looked at his hands, leaning against Bruce's side. "It sucks." He whispered. "I know it does."

Mad Hatter had set off a device earlier that night that amplified all of Batman's most negative emotions until they overwhelmed him and left him disoriented.

"But, please, just… come back?"

Tim, having only been Robin a few months by this point, had frozen in place. He hadn't been sure what was more important at the moment, catching Mad Hatter, or helping Batman.

He'd decided to stay and help Batman.

He'd gotten him into the Batmobile.

He'd managed to drive the both of them back to the cave.

And now, hours later, he was seated on the edge of Bruce's bed, trying to talk to his mentor as the man sat, still as a statue, staring at a photo of himself and his last Robin.

"I… I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't… I don't know how to help you." Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been talking for hours, and had barely gotten any reaction.

"Jason's gone, and I can't change that. I can't fix that. And I'm sorry." He felt hot tears as they fell.

"But, if it helps at all, I'm here. I know I'm not who you want, but… at least you're not alone. I always…" Tim trailed off rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I always hate being alone."

Yyyyy

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick knocked on the open door of his father's home office.

"Hey. What's up?" Bruce greeted, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Dick leaned in the doorway, worry written all over his face. "It's Tim." He nodded down the hall. "He's not eating."

Bruce frowned. That wasn't good.

Tim had been struggling for a while lately, but a few days ago a case had gone sideways and he'd gotten a nasty dose of Fear Toxin.

He'd gotten through it after about half a day, but whatever he'd been forced to see…

"I'm sure he'll eat when he's hungry. Why don't you leave the plate on his nightstand?" At least, Bruce hoped he would.

After waking up, Tim hadn't spoken to any of them beyond a few hoarse whispers about being tired and just wanting to sleep.

They'd helped him upstairs to his bed, and that's where he'd stayed.

At first, they'd all just been happy to see that he was resting and actually taking time to recover.

Then, they'd been relieved and even joked when it seemed he was taking some time to just relax and be lazy for a bit.

But now?

Now they were starting to get worried.

"I don't… Bruce, I don't think he will." Dick sighed. "I brought him dinner last night and the plates still on his nightstand. He didn't touch a damn thing."

Bruce nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do."

He made his way down the hall to Tim's room and knocked on the closed door.

No response.

"Buddy, it's Bruce. I'm coming in." He called.

No response.

He opened the door and walked in. The light was off and the window closed, making the room dark enough that his eyes had to adjust.

Dirty clothes lay all over the floor, dropped and left where they'd fallen.

His desk held a closed laptop and several stacks of papers and files, all stamped with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo.

The skateboard he used to ride everywhere was leaned against the wall, coated in a visible layer of dust.

And the small lump under the blankets on the bed hadn't so much as twitched since he'd walked in.

Bruce walked closer, seeing that Dick had been right. The plate they'd made for Tim the night before hadn't been touched. Balanced beside it, hanging over the edge of the nightstand, was a bowl of oatmeal.

Dick had sliced a peach into it, the way Tim loved.

He hadn't even taken a bite.

"Tim." Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Are you awake?"

No response.

"Can I get you anything?"

No response.

"Do you want something else to eat?"

It was starting to feel like Bruce was talking to a wall.

Sighing, feeling helpless to protect his child from this invisible foe, Bruce gently set his hand on Tim's shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't know what you need."

He, again, didn't get a response.

"I don't know what you saw. I don't know what you went through, or if that's even what triggered this."

Bruce reached out with his other hand and felt the bowl of oatmeal. It was room temperature, and starting to dry out.

How long had Dick sat here trying to get his brother to eat something?

"Please, let me help."

He begged softly.

"Please tell me what I can do."

Tim still offered no response. Bruce would almost have thought he was asleep if it weren't for the fact that he could see that Tim's eyes were open. He was staring blankly at the wall, back facing his father.

"You told me once… what it felt like. When you got like this."

Tim blinked.

"You said that it felt like the world and everyone in it just kept moving without you."

Bruce gave Tim's arm a firm squeeze.

"Tim, I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his forehead on Tim's shoulder.

"Not without you. Because you're my son, and I love you."

Tim's next exhale was shaky.

"I don't care how long it takes. Just, please. Come back to me? I-,"

Bruce trailed off when Tim shifted ever so slightly.

He reached up and grabbed the hand that was still resting on his arm, squeezing it tight.

His hand was shaking, but Bruce chose to focus on the fact that he was moving at all.

"I'm here, Tim." He whispered. "I promise, I'm here."

Tim gently tugged the hand, and Bruce let him move it.

He pulled it to his chest and hugged it tight with both arms like a child afraid to lose their security blanket.

And then he broke.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he ducked his head and curled up into a ball, still desperately clinging to Bruce's arm.

Heart breaking, Bruce wrapped his other arm under Tim's body and hauled him upright, pulling him into his lap.

Tim let himself be moved, but his grip didn't waver.

His entire body shook with sobs, which quickly dampened Bruce's shirt.

Neither of them cared.

"I'm here, son. I'm here. I've got you."

If Tim heard what Bruce was whispering, he gave no sign.

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne whump #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #red robin #nightwing #tim drake whump #bruce and tim

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ahshitikeepreadingfanfics · 2 years

Text

Mr.Mom

Taishiro Toyomitsu’s family, it’s mostly girls.

Except for the second oldest

His only boy

Having 7 children he knows his wife is overwhelmed so sometimes

He takes them to the office

AND IT IS CHAOS.

Red Riot getting covered in the chaotic girls screaming to have piggy back rides, the eldest asking to be thrown so she can practice using her quirk at age 10 so she bounces against the walls, literally, while Suneater just sits with the shy little boy looking at bugs and fish in the books he brings so he can show him all the cool new facts at age 9, 5 year old twin girls braiding their dads hair. 8 year old triplets drawing all over his desk with permanent marker. The 5 month old baby sleeping in the crib has has in his office, it’s been there for 10 years. It’s not going anywhere.

Literally. One of the twins sneezed and he or his wife do not know where this quirk came from because her sister has a similar quirk to her dad, except it’s muscle. (a muscly 5 year old is mildly terrifying according to Red Riot) And now it is super glued it to the ground. No matter what you or Taishiro used to try and pry it from the floor. It would stay. You both gave up. Plus it’s in a good spot anyways.

By the time lunch comes around, everyone’s tired and hungry. Luckily his wife knows their kids time. It’s like she has a tracker for exhaustion and hunger. It’s amazing. She already has her quirk but it’s like she has a bonus quirk just for her family, which includes Fatgums sidekicks. She brings them all lunch. Plus, she needs to feed the baby. Baby girl number 7 already drank all the milk he packed for her. Just like her dad. Never satisfied when eating. His beautiful wife (in her hero uniform no less) brought food for everyone. It was suddenly calm. The kids were behaved. Drawing on paper, sitting quietly. Unpacking their lunch. Keeping their quirks in check. Including his sidekicks. Taishiro was in complete awe. Then she left and chaos started all over again. Food was being thrown. Sweet potatoe fries are everywhere. The chaos is never ended if his wife isn’t around when outside the home. At least at home that chaos is contained.

“why are you guys so good when mom is here? I don’t get it?” Taishiro questions, looking at his children, his son looks up at him while eating his rice “Mom says we need to be good when she’s at the office. That’s the rule or else we need to go home.”

“Wait. She has rules for when you guys go to her office?” Fatgum questions,

“Yea” the nonchalant answer from his son makes everything clear, they all need to go home. He looks around.

There is marker everywhere.

There is gum in both the five year olds hair, he doesn’t even know where they gotten gum. Probably from Red Riot. Definetly from Red Riot

Sweet potatoes mashed into his favourite office chair, that stain will never come out of the light orange fabric.

“Okay guys let’s pack up and go home! Moms at work today and we need to get home. Red Riot your coming we’re doing training in my backyard today. Suneater your gonna hang out with my son and you guys can watch the fish channel. Girls you are gonna give Riot resistance training” Taishiro states.

The girls scream and giggle knowing that it will be a fun day.

A few hours later the kids are down for a nap except the oldest two. The sidekicks have left for the day after an exhausting day taking care of the Toyomitsu clan. Taishiro is laying on the floor with the baby on his chest watching My neighbor totoro. They are relaxing. It’s about 5pm and his amazing wife is about to be home. The house is a mess as usual and it’s cleaning day tomorrow.

“Hello love” the light and airy voice of his wife reaches his ears. As the front door swings open.

He glances up to his wife. Some mud on her face. She’s smiling down at him. Her eyes sparkle with love and adoration.

“Good day?” She questions smiling knowing that today has been long as it is when the kids are out of school.

“Messy. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world”

“Thank you for being an amazing dad. Mr.Mom”

He laughs as she goes to sit on the couch with the oldest two. They get excited when they notice she is there. The little boy sits right next to her. She wraps her arms around her oldest children. And they snuggle right in. Once the kids are up again, his wife giggles at the 5 year olds new haircuts due to the gum, ghe 8 year olds are showing her their drawings of their family and you all start to make dinner and start getting ready for bed. It’s about 8pm, you and Taishiro and snuggled on the couch.

“Your amazing for taking care of those kids for so long and being out of the hero game so long” Taishiro states.

“Your amazing for being a great dad” his wife answers looking up at him kissing him softly on the cheek.

The family is messy, and kinda chaotic. But he’s never been surrounded by more love in his entire life. He’s never been happier. He doesn’t know how you do it while also being a hero.

He’s known as a Mr.Mom.

He might be a very popular hero amongst the world community,

But honey, your his hero.

Just had these thoughts and on my god I couldn’t stop.

#fatgum #fatgum x reader #dad!fatgum #mha #bnha

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riahlynn101 · 6 months

Text

Day Twenty-Three: "Who's There?"

Trigger warnings: Implied/referenced murder, implied child neglect, and children in distress.

Set in the FNAF movie universe.

“Who’s there?” Mike asks.

It’s the middle of the night. The house is quiet, save for the rattling of the furnace in the basement and the old foundation settling. His family went to bed hours ago, but not before shutting Mike in his room.

(“A safety precaution,” his mom said. “Just until we can get your sleepwalking under control.”)

Which would be fine, but….

…there’s a reason he leaves his room.

A Spider-Man comic book is flung off his nightstand. It hits the wall with a soft thump. Mike closes his eyes, breathing deeply.

Mike turns on his side. Maybe it’ll be less scary if he closes his eyes. (It never is).

Something heavy falls on the floor, but he’s too afraid to see what it is. As far as Mike cares, it could be his walkman as long as whatever is doing it, leaves him alone.

There’s a sudden clattering sound, like heavy rain on a tin roof.

“Stop,” he says, pulling his blanket over his head. “Please.”

The clattering gradually gets louder, until it's the only thing Mike can hear. He cries, putting his hands over his ears.

His bedroom is flooded with light. Under his blanket, Mike’s eyes are protected from the sudden assault.

“Mike…?”

His comforter is pulled off his head.

Mike slowly sits up, putting his hands down. “Garrett,” he sniffles, “what are you doing up?”

His little brother sits on his bed. He shrugs. “I heard you crying.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Well, I am,” Mike huffs, wiping at his eyes.

“Was it a bad dream?”

“....Yes….” He draws his knees to his chest, staring at his lap.

Garrett leans in, unprompted, and wraps his arms around his older brother. Out of reflex, Mike hugs him back. “What- what are you doing?”

“Hugging you?” His brother answers in a no-duh, voice. “Mommy hugs me when I have bad dreams, I thought it might help you.”

Mike swallows heavily, blinking back tears. “Uh…thank you, Gar.”

“No problem. Do you want me to get mommy?”

“No.”

“Daddy?”

“Definite no. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, but thanks.”

“Okay, but if you get scared, you know how to find me.” Garrett hops off the bed. He goes to turn the light off.

“Wait,” he calls out. His brother looks at him. “Can you please leave them on. I’m…” the word scared goes unsaid, but Garrett seems to understand perfectly.

“Okay. I don’t like the dark either,” he says. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Mike flops back down to sleep. In the light, his room doesn’t feel as scary. His parents might be angry that he’s running up the electricity bill, but he has no other choice.

It didn’t always used to be like this. When he was younger, his father would leave him home alone all the time, and he never got scared once. But ever since….

Mike throws the thought out of his mind. No, he doesn’t need to think about that right now. He needs to go to sleep. There’s school tomorrow, and he has to get up early to walk Garrett to school.

The heavy rain on a tin roof starts again, louder than before.

He sits up, feeling more secure with the light on. Whatever it is that’s screwing with him, can’t hurt him while the light’s on. At least that’s what his mom says, and she’s very rarely wrong.

Mike climbs to the end of his bed. Cautiously, he peeks over the footboard. A bunch of marbles lay scattered across his floor.

He sighs in relief, sliding out of bed. Mike can be a little absent-minded sometimes, so he probably just left them on the edge of his dresser and they fell off.

He should clean them up before morning, though. The last thing he wants is his overly-excitable little brother running and falling on hundreds of marbles, or his mom for that matter. She’s constantly complaining about her back, and Mike is ninety-nine percent sure that the way to fix it is not by having her break it.

Grabbing the baggie they came in, Mike starts scooping them into his hand, and putting them into the bag. The wood floor beneath his feet is cold, and he misses the warmth of the blanket. He yawns, exhaustion finally setting in.

The lights flicker.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

“Michael….”

On.

He tenses, the marbles slip through his fingers, clattering to the floor.

Off.

A cold hand touches the back of his neck.

On.

His breathing becomes shallow.

Off.

“I’ve missed you.”

On.

He shudders. All the alarm bells are going off in his head, but Mike can’t bring himself to move.

Off.

The hand is removed from his neck. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for soooo long, Mikey. Why are you ignoring me? Are you mad at me?”

On.

Mike moves forward, crawling over the marbles he hasn’t gotten a chance to clean up yet. His heart beats fast. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears.

Off.

“Don’t run away, please, I really, really miss you.”

On.

Whoever, or whatever is speaking to him is blocking the way out, so Mike makes the split-second decision to hide under the bed. He army crawls as fast as he can, before the lights turn off again.

Off.

He whimpers, nails digging into the floor. Mike squeezes his eyes shut, trying to imagine that he’s safe in bed.

Next to him, someone sighs heavily. “Are you done?”

Shaking, Mike forces himself to turn his head. There, laying in the same position as him, is the subject of all his nightmares. Charlie Emily, Henry’s daughter, and the girl his father killed. He hasn’t thought about his father in years. Not since Mike was put into the foster system.

Everytime Mike closes his eyes, he can see his best friend covered in gashes, a large pool of blood beneath her.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, cringing away. “I didn’t know. I-I thought-”

“Shhh….stop being silly. I know you didn’t mean it. He tricked you.”

Mike looks at her, wide-eyed.

Charlie smiles. She looks just like the day she died, before he trusted his father when he said to lock the door. Whole and alive. “It’ll be okay, Michael. Trust me.” Her expression turns serious. “But I need you to do something for me.”

Wordlessly, Mike nods.

“Okay, so….” She leans in to whisper in his ear.

The next morning, Mike’s mom finds him under the bed, fast asleep. There are marbles on the floor, and the comic book he begged his parents for is laying haphazardly against the wall. She lightly shakes him.

He blinks blearily. “Morning?”

“Yep, and I see you had a busy night.”

Mike looks at her, confused.

But his mom has seen that look a million times. “Don’t play dumb, Mike. You know you shouldn’t be playing after bedtime.”

“I…didn’t?”

His mom sighs. “Don’t argue with me, okay? Just don’t do it again.”

Despite having no idea what she’s talking about, Mike mumbles an agreement under his breath.

“Good.” She kisses his head. “Now, get ready. Garrett is eating breakfast, and I saved a poptart for you. Remember to look both ways before-”

“Crossing the street,” Mike finishes. “I know, I know.”

“Okay, and-”

“Don’t talk to strangers, even if they promise you candy.”

His mom sighs. “Good. You’re all set then. Your dad and I won’t be home until late tonight. Our boss is making us work overtime today.”

“That’s fine.”

“Take care of your brother. Don’t tease him too much.”

Mike makes a face. “No, promises.”

She pinches his cheek, getting to her feet. “Be good,” his mom says in a warning voice. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

His mom pauses in the doorway. “I know we’ve had to work a lot these past few weeks, so as long as you two behave, we can go to the park this weekend.”

Mike smiles. “Really?”

“Yes, but you have to behave.”

“Deal.”

His mom returns his smile.

The door closes. Mike frowns. He can’t remember his dream from last night. It feels just out of his reach, but he knows it was important - whatever it was.

Maybe it will come back to him later.

#whumptober2023 #no.23 #who's there #tw implied murder #tw implied child death #tw neglect #mike schmidt #fnaf charlie #garrett schmidt #tw childhood trauma #cross posted on ao3

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hannahssimblr · 5 months

Text

Chapter Four

“How long are you going to make me stand like this?”

“Claire, the life drawing models do this for an hour at a time, I think you can handle ten minutes.”

“At least they get paid for it, all I get is criticism.”

“Please, try to keep your feet in the same spot, the legs are really important.”

She sighs and readjusts, planting her feet back onto the two X’s I’ve marked on the floor with masking tape, then stands still for a good five seconds before reaching up to touch her hair.

I sigh with frustration. “Claire…”

“Sorry, I just feel like my hair looks weird.”

“It’s fine, please can you just…”

“I’m worried you aren’t going to make me look good.”

“It’s not about making you look good, it’s about capturing an accurate portrayal of human anatomy.”

“Ugh.” She moves her arms back to roughly the correct position, but now her torso has kind of twisted out of position, so I take my gummy eraser and start rubbing out what I’ve already drawn.

‘Why is this so hard?” I mutter under my breath as I bring the charcoal to the page again, drawing a fresh line for the curve of her spine. It seems like no matter what I do, I can never recreate the focus I have in Ida’s studio. I’ve tried drawing in my sketchbook on the bus, in cafes, while sitting on benches at the park, but my drawings always look off, I don’t feel sure about my talent like I used to. I’m not carrying an inspirational spark with me when I’m outside of the walls of my college and yet, tomorrow is Friday. The day that we all have to lay our sketchbooks out on the floor and critique each other for the work we’ve done during the week, so really I have to come up with something halfway good. I want Ida to be proud. I don’t want the cursed Dean Cullen to be mean, although he inevitably will. His default mode is nasty, but still, I can’t help but want to prove myself. To be good enough. To be the best.

“I’m not going to move, don’t worry…” Claire says. “But I just want to say that I’m getting very cold.”

“It won’t be long, I promise.” I plead.

“Don’t life drawing models also have heaters?”

“It’s not like you’re naked. Leggings and a vest are like, roughly the same thing as a heater.”

“Not at all. And it’s almost winter. Why don’t we at least have the radiators on?”

I shudder at the thought of the last electricity bill, the memory of opening up that little white envelope and feeling like I was going to have a heart attack and collapse onto the wooden floor. It was revealed then that Claire was leaving the heating on pretty much all day from the moment the temperature dipped below fourteen degrees, for the sake of being cosy. Her parents pay for everything, including her half of the utility bills, so really, nothing matters at all to her, and I know she doesn’t really understand why we have to suffer in the cold, or why I kept telling her to buy a hot water bottle instead of cranking on the radiators every time she goes to bed. If I didn’t keep remembering to switch it off our bills would be astronomical every month. I wish I could be the passive-aggressive housemate sometimes and put a padlock on the timer.

I’m on the student support grant, which just about covers my rent and food. I don’t think she understands that some people have to think about money, that it doesn’t just endlessly flow into all of our accounts, or materialise from thin air whenever we want a new skirt from American Apparel.

It frustrates me sometimes, the disparity between our finances. I’d never really thought about class, or where I stood in society before I moved away from home, but now it’s all around me all the time and utterly impossible to ignore, woven into my identity. I’ve never associated with the notion of being a working class person from a working class household but when I’m here it feels as though it’s the number one thing that defines me. It saturates everything, everyone’s accents and postcodes under scrutiny. Who’s dad can afford this and that, who has to work evenings and weekends to pay their way, who gets the grant, who doesn’t. I’d never before considered the fact that Claire got a thousand euro for her Confirmation and at my house, the year of the financial crash, we had plain pasta for dinner every day for three weeks, but now it seems as though this was something I should have always been aware of.

Shane comes into the apartment without knocking, as usual at that very moment, and Claire immediately drops her pose to skip over and embrace him, as if they haven’t seen eachother in a month, instead of every single day. He has his own apartment in Clonskeagh, but is seemingly never there. He’s become our third housemate – the one who never pays rent. I groan and drop my willow charcoal back into my plastic pencil holder. Whatever is on the page now will just have to do.

“You alright there, Evie?” Shane says over her shoulder, never letting me just have a tantrum in peace.

“Yeah I’m fine. Just finishing up an assignment.”

“Seems to be going well, sure you look delighted.”

I stick my tongue out at him, and he ignores me. “Bit cold in here, isn’t it?” He comments, and Claire throws her hands up in agreement. “Thank you!” She says. “I’ve been trying to tell her that all evening.”

“She’s cold because she’s in a vest in leggings.”

“That you made me wear for your drawing.”

Shane smirks. “I’m not complaining about the vest and leggings anyway. Come on, just flick the heat on for a while.” He goes over to the thermostat and flips it on expertly, like a man who lives here. Which he doesn’t. He just sleeps here three to four nights a week. Then he comes over and sits beside me on the couch. I try to close my sketchbook before he can catch a glimpse, but it’s too late. He puts his big hand in the way to block me.

“That’s good.” He says, pointing at the drawing I’ve just done.

“Is that the one of me?” Claire says, coming over to perch on the arm of the sofa next to him. “Oh, it is good. You made me look very pretty.”

“Not hard to do.” Shane tells her with this dreadful, flirtatious look on his face and I have to suppress a disgusted shudder.

“It’s fine.” I say begrudgingly. “But it’s not going to be good enough.”

“I think it’s great.” Claire reassures me. “What more could they be looking for?”

“Perfection.”

Shane lifts the sketchbook out of my hands without asking and starts flipping through it. “So what, is your tutor like some kind of dragon, or?”

I sigh. “Ida is fine, she’s honest but she’s fair. There’s just this one guy.” I take the sketchbook back off him and try to close it in my lap, but he easily slips it away from me again and resumes his snooping.

“A student, like?”

“Yeah. Dean Cullen. He’s always horrible about my work.”

“I wouldn’t care if some random man was making comments about my work. Sure he’s hardly going to give you grades, is he?”

“No.” I say. “But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of criticising me.”

“I doubt he sees it like that.”

“Yeah, and do you know him, do you?”

“Obviously not but he probably just thinks he’s being constructive, like.”

“He said the legs on my piece were lazy last week.”

“‘Lazy’ isn’t very constructive.” Claire agrees.

Shane turns another page thoughtfully. “Some lads just say what they think and they don’t care about how it comes out, though. He’s probably like that.”

“He’s not.” I insist.

“Sounds like he’s got under your skin.”

“He hasn’t.”

“Alright so.” A pause. “Is this me?” He holds up the sketchbook on a page of drawings of a man’s head in profile. They’re done in brown pencil. He’s got a short-back-and-sides haircut and a bump on the bridge of his nose where it was once smashed with the butt of a hurl and never quite set back the right way again.

“Yes. That’s you.”

He looks at it again, saying nothing for a few moments. Then: “Can I have it?”

“No, I need the sketchbook intact for my grade.”

“Well, can you put it online or something then?”

“Why would I do that?”

“So I can show it to people. Sure it looks exactly the same as me. I’d make it my profile picture and all.”

“Nobody wants to see my work online.” I say, going red.

“Oh they would!” Claire says. “Everyone is doing it now.”

“On Facebook?”

“No, Instagram.”

I pause. “What is that?”

She and Shane exchange a look as though I’m some old age pensioner who just had a ‘moment’, and I sigh with frustration. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is, apparently I’m technologically illiterate.”

Claire whips out her brand new iphone to show me the cute little app that looks like a polaroid camera, and then scrolls through her feed, which is just pictures and more pictures, no text posts, no statuses, just photos. “Everyone with an iphone has it now.” She explains. “You just take pictures and upload them. You can edit them in the app and everything, and you follow your friends so you can see what they post too.”

“And everyone is doing this?”

“Yeah, it’s the new Thing. And look.” She opens up a search bar and types in the word “Art”, and immediately the screen floods with images of paintings and drawings. “You can look at what other artists are doing too. I think you’d really like it.”

“Hm.” I say. “Maybe.”

“Hand me your phone.”

I obey her, and she starts tapping away at it. I watch as she downloads the app, signs me up for it, and then she follows both her account and Shane’s, who I can see has exclusively posted photographs of himself on the football field. Not content I’d be especially interested in, but I can always unfollow him later. She lifts the sketchbook off the couch and carefully turns to the page with Shane’s head drawings, and snaps a picture. She applies some brightening filter to it and then uploads it, and there it is. My first post on Instagram.

“Thank you.” I say.

“Go through my follow list and see if there’s anyone else there you want on your feed.” She instructs me. “And like, find out who else in your drawing class has it. You can all compare your drawings and leave nice comments or whatever.”

“That kind of sounds like a good idea.” I admit.

“Listen to the good feedback, not just what stinky Dean Cullen says.” She strokes my hair affectionately. “You’re so good at drawing, I’d hate it if someone made you think that you aren’t.”

“Thank you Claire. And Shane.” I say as I get up from the couch and start heading towards my room.

“We’re going to watch a film, if you want in.” Claire offers, but I shake my head.

“I think I’m going to keep drawing. I can do more studies of my own feet or something.”

“Okay, whatever you want.”

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