#brooke writes things

[ohlawsons]

ever bittersweet, ch. 02 | dani/herald/ortega, 2316 words welcome to ot3: asshole (affectionate) x asshole (derogatory) x daniel

“Need anything else? A drink? Painkillers?” A pause. “Full body massage?”

Dani leans back with a scowl, tilting their head up to look at Ortega as she leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “Asshole.” There’s no heat behind the words, just the familiar taunting that they know Ortega got used to years ago. “You could toss me the remote.”

“Sure thing.” Instead of grabbing the remote from where it sits on the side table, Ortega moves to sit beside them on the couch. With a guilty sort of look, Daniel follows suit and takes a seat opposite Dani; his thoughts are a flurry of different things, deliberately avoiding some topic that Dani’s too tired to try and work out.

There’s a sudden, uneasy silence over the living room, and Dani’s scowl settles into something deeper. “What is this, a fucking intervention?” The words are too sharp, too unkind; fury and terror and regret roil within their chest, and it takes longer than they’d like to try and calm themself. It’s… hard to remember, sometimes, that neither Daniel nor Ortega have to go through all the trouble to help them, given how wholly and completely they currently are at their mercy. There’s no ulterior motives, no maliciously planned long con — just two people who have seen who they really are and still want to help.

(And there’s that little voice at the back of their mind, viscous and sickly and staining so many of their thoughts these days; it reminds them that this is a weakness, moreso than their broken body and shattered legs.

Fingerprints can be erased. Minds can be altered. But hearts? Hearts are stubborn. Hearts remember.

Their own is proof enough of that.)

They’ve only just calmed their furiously racing pulse when Ortega moves to let an arm drape loosely along the back of the couch, behind Dani, and their pulse spikes again. “You want one?” she asks, voice light but with a sharper edge than normal. It’s a jab meant to tease, Dani knows this, but there’s an invitation to argue. “I never thought something as simple as an intervention would’ve worked on you.”

“Never stopped you from trying.” Theirs is a jab meant to wound. To linger. Scowling, snapping, severing whatever tenuous thread of understanding they’ve worked out with Ortega over the past week.

The fact that they can taste how their words make frustration and disappointment bubble up in Daniel’s mind is satisfying in a way that makes them sick. Like they’re feeding some part of themself they should be killing off, cutting out.

“No, it didn’t.” Good, she’s defensive. Leaning back. Keeping her arm along the back of the couch but gripping it like a lifeline, now. “You want me to apologize for it? For giving a shit? For trying so much harder this time?” She cuts off with a sharp intake of breath, running a hand through her hair; Daniel speaks her name, as soft as he is insistent — he doesn’t want to get involved, Dani can tell, but his thoughts are a whirlwind of concern and frustration and certainty that the tension between the two of them will only ever do more harm than good — but Ortega ignores him. “I’ve already lost you once, Dani. Sorry for trying to be a better friend this time around.”

“A better friend would’ve left me alone when I asked.”

“Dani—“

“That goes for both of you,” they snap, whirling on Daniel as best they can with their injury limiting their movements. They’re not crying — they don’t cry, can’t remember the last time they did — but they can feel the stinging in their eyes, undoubtedly red-rimmed as they glare at him. The anger builds and snarls and aches, a hollow pressure in their chest that rises and sticks in their throat as they turn to face Ortega again. “I’m sorry they didn’t put the fucking pieces back right after they scraped me off the goddamned pavement, but it’s not your job to try and fix that.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.” Soft. Hurt.

There’s a heavy beat of silence; Dani doesn’t know exactly what to say, not just yet, but they know it’s going to be loud. Mean. But Daniel beats them to it, voice sharp and insistent without the cruelty that Dani’s trying to muster up. “Can we please have one conversation that doesn’t immediately become an argument?” he asks, leaning forward, brow furrowed in that particular determined way that Dani’s come to learn. His mind is still a mess of concern for Dani and something he’s keeping stubbornly buried, but a few thoughts slip to the top, in clear view for Dani to read — regret because the conversation wasn’t supposed to go like this, quiet resignation that he’ll just have to be a mediator between them now, and a now-familiar confusion as he tries to navigate where he fits in… this.

Ortega looks away — pulls away — and, as usual, Dani can’t make out her expression. They let out a long, slow breath, taking their anger and shoving it aside, letting that darker, bitter part of them chew on it while they calm themself. “You’re hovering,” they say, voice quiet enough that they’re not sure Daniel will even hear; the little flustered spike of embarrassment from him makes Dani’s lips twitch. Not quite a smile. Not yet. “And I’m… sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know.” It’s Daniel who answers first, with a smile that doesn’t even look forced. “We both do.”

“Are you, though?” When Ortega speaks up again, the words are tired. Soft. Carefully not picking a fight, not this time; she still gets a heated warning glance from Daniel. “Trying?”

“I am.” The truth, hard and bitter but not cruel. “If you want to be the one to wheel me to therapy each week, I won’t argue. I know it’s not fair to be so angry all the time, but I don’t… I don’t know where it comes from or what to do with it.” It takes a moment for them to realize that they’re scratching at their skin, fingers grasping and clawing at their bicep where they know the tattoos are hidden beneath the layers; they need a cigarette, but not badly enough to get into another argument about the habit.

They can sense Daniel moving a fraction of a second before he does, drifting to stand upright to comfort them, but Ortega beats him to it. She reaches — slow, careful, cautious — to place a hand over Dani’s, untangling their fingers from the fabric of their jacket. “Hey.”

“I’m okay.” They don’t pull away, and let Ortega continue to hold their hand, as gentle as she’s ever been with them; their eyes flick over to Daniel, now seated again, brow furrowed in concern even if his thoughts are tinted with confusion — what to do, how to act, if he should still go to them — but not a hint of jealousy. “I’m okay,” they say again, more for his sake now. They aren’t sure he believes them. He isn’t sure he believes them.

But they don’t want to talk about this anymore. About themself. About how fucked up they’ve become.

Besides, if they linger here on the topic any longer, they’ll end up snapping again. Proving their own point. Because they’re supposed to be alone — safe and protected and without weaknesses or liabilities — but somehow they’ve ended up with two people who’ve seen the worst of them and decided to stay.

Perhaps they haven’t seen the worst. But they’ve seen enough.

“Look.” Dani forces out a slow breath, rubbing at their eyes with their free hand. Their vision swims with little black spots when they look up. “You wanted to talk about something.”

“We did. But maybe…” Daniel glances towards Ortega, and his thoughts are all but screaming maybe later, maybe not now. Maybe not the right time.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around things with me,” they say, blunt and plain but not harsh. “I promise that nothing either of you have to say will break me. Trust me. I would know.” Maybe it’s a little cruel to say. A little too sharp of a reminder of the things they’ve gone through. Maybe they’re not trying all that hard, after all, not with the way satisfaction settles deep within the cracks in their chest when Ortega and Daniel both flinch at their words.

The pair shares another glance. Ortega gives a light squeeze to Dani’s hand that she’s still holding, and the smile she offers is a little too warm and sincere. “It’s nothing bad. We just had a talk about what you suggested when we brought you here. About us.”

Oh. Not exactly what they would’ve guessed, but they suppose it makes sense in hindsight given what they’d picked up from Daniel. Fuck — the pain and exhaustion really is getting to them if they couldn’t see that coming.

“And?”

She shrugs, and the smile grows into that cocky, charming grin that Dani’s more used to. “I think the general consensus is we’re game if you are.”

Dani can’t help the sudden, sharp laugh that escapes their lips, the sound more choked than amused — relief and happiness and something warmer and brighter, all released at once. Years of dancing around Ortega. dancing around themself, dancing around the kissing and the avoiding and the whispered not-quite-confessions. A few rushed months of whatever this thing is that they’ve fallen into with Daniel.

(That darker part of their mind speaks up, somewhere between the relief and the warmth they suspect might be love, and reminds them that this is dangerous. Stupid. Twice the risk. Twice the heartbreak — ha. Twice the inevitability that they’ll end up back at the Farm. But maybe they deserve this — happiness and hope and love didn’t get them very far last time, did it, but when this eventually all goes wrong they’ll have twice the anger and regret and self-loathing.

They know how to use that.)

“Well,” they take a long, slow breath, summoning up something more caustic than genuine; more like Ortega, more like themself — barbs meant to prod and poke and tease, not to wound, “as long as we’re all aware that the two of you will have to do all the heavy lifting in this relationship.” Lips pressed into a tight grin, they gesture to their legs, propped up and immobile and covered by a pair of light blankets.

“Of course.” Daniel’s floating, again, but Dani doesn’t even notice until he does and forces himself to land, standing just a few steps away from the couch. Still trying to figure out how this all works, still not sure what to make of the naked adoration on Dani’s face when they look at Ortega — are they that obvious or is Daniel that good at reading them? — and still quietly unraveling an old, long-buried crush on Julia. He’s happy with the way things are working out, his mind bright and radiant in a way that’s… unavoidable. Contagious.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.

...

It’s late. The only light comes from the credits rolling on the tv screen and the faint, hazy orange glow of the Los Diablos night that seeps in through the tinted windows.

The movie’s been over for a good few minutes, now, but no one seems ready to move; Dani’s still seated on one end of the couch, an empty beer bottle in one hand and Daniel’s hands in the other. He sits beside them, close enough to brush against them but always so careful not to press into them or jostle them; he’s been tracing fingers along the lines of the tattoos on Dani’s hand — their tattoos, the ones they’d chosen for themself, thick lines of black ink etched into geometric patterns across the back of their hand. Ortega’s on the other side of him, sprawled against the corner of the couch — one arm draped over the back, one leg tucked up under her, looking like she’s taking up as much space as Daniel and Dani combined.

It’s quiet. Comfortable.

Ortega’s the one to break the fragile silence, letting out a soft curse as she stands and sends one of the empty bottles, discarded at the foot of the couch, rolling across the room. She collects the handful of empty bottles, and when Dani holds theirs out, she takes that one, too.

“Shit.” A poorly stifled yawn. “Didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” She disappears into the kitchen, and after a moment she calls back out, “I should probably get going.”

How often had that been Dani? How many times had they been the one to leave Ortega’s apartment despite the late hour, even knowing that it would be the early hours of the morning by the time they made the trek to their own apartment and slid into bed?

Their thoughts are cut off in a flurry of happy warmth — whether theirs or Daniel’s, they don’t know anymore — as Ortega reappears behind the couch, placing a soft kiss first to the top of Daniel’s head, then Dani’s.

Teasing. Grinning. Idiot.

“Stay?” The word is quiet and slips out before Dani can stop it. They wonder, briefly, if they’re imposing; it is still Daniel’s apartment, after all, but once the offer sinks into his tired mind, he’s beaming, his thoughts bright and pleased and the tiniest bit flustered.

He mirrors Dani, craning his neck to look back at Ortega. “You’re welcome to, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Jules.”

She lets out a little huff of a laugh at the old nickname. “Yeah. Alright. I’m taking the couch though, if that’s not too weird.” She offers a grin that’s wide and cocky and charming, and pairs it with a wink. “I’m not that easy to get into bed.”

Maybe, Dani thinks, this isn’t so bad.

#fhr #julia ortega #fhr herald #chargestep #flystep #sidestep #dani gutierrez tag #fic: dani #brooke writes things #dani is the equivalent of a feral kitten who hisses and spits as theyre being pet

[harringtown]

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

-

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high.  And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good—”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

-

taglist (join here!): @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ @copycatkillerfics​  @robinbuckleyssgf​ @isshecrazyorissheclever

#brooke writes fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #Eddie munson au #Eddie munson imagine #x reader

[beanghostprincess]

How would you rank each strawhat based on morality? Of cours they are all good people, but some are certainly more and others slightly less

I mean... I don't think morality is something we can make rankings of because it varies depending on your philosophy and a good person isn't always the one following the conventional, Kantian rules of morality. But I know where you're coming from. I guess I can just base it on my own understanding of what morality is, which basically follows the whole "an action is good when the outcome affects positively the majority of people/makes somebody external to you feel good/doesn't harm anybody external" (aka selflessness and altruism) and "an action doesn't have to be necessarily good and you can still be a good person because your initial intentions were good, even if the outcome wasn't the one you expected". So, basically, this ranking is based on altruism, selflessness, and the way their actions affect others and what are their views on society/how they behave with others. I also have in mind why they do the things they do and if their positive actions are done out of selfishness or pure altruism.

1- Chopper

Isn't it obvious? His whole character is literally about helping others. He's a caretaker who looks out for everybody and the common well-being and happiness. He has a strong sense of morality that's based on other people's joy and freedom, and he fights for the rights of every human being despite their background. He doesn't care about whether you're evil or not when it comes to your life, always saving the ones who need saving. His vision of the world is pretty simple, honestly. Besides, kindness is often related to naivete and he's well-known for that too. He treats people with respect, and kindness, often mimics others to fit in, and the only times he harms people is to fight for what he thinks is right (which is pretty often related to basic human rights being violated in a medical sense). Being a doctor doesn't make you morally good, but being this type of doctor specifically definitely does. He'd pretty much sacrifice himself if it meant helping others, using himself as a tester for various antidotes. He's by far the nicest straw hat. He's both selfless and altruistic and he even has his own set of morals that involve protecting humanity's basic rights when it comes to living. Wanting to cure every illness and make a world in which nobody can die before their time is basically his whole character.

2- Brook

What sets Chopper and Brook apart from the other Straw Hats is that they are pretty active in their altruism and try to do good for people unrelated to them. His whole thing is quite literally making others laugh from happiness. He's a musician. His whole life before joining the Straw Hats was to be in a crew full of artists who lived to make others happy with music. That's the most selfless passion ever. His cheerful and jokester personality is pretty much meant to cope in a funnier way to make others laugh and save them from being worried about him. He keeps wanting others to be comfortable and together as a family, he enjoys unity from spending so much time alone but it doesn't come from a place of selfishness, because he keeps wanting others to enjoy their time together. He might need/want company, but the way he asks for it is in a very polite way and he never wants to bother other people. His whole character is literally focused on wanting to go see Laboon and make him know he's alive. He could've tried to k word himself in the years he spent alone, but he didn't because somebody else was waiting for him. He might be a pervert but he asks for consent, having in mind what women want and he doesn't push things further if they don't want to. Brook is the definition of a very jokester gentleman with knowledge for consent and a very selfless attitude towards life, valuing others' needs before his own. Although he doesn't hesitate to cut people in half, he only does this to his enemies and, y'know, pirate life. And often it's either needed or they don't even end up dead, so... The reason he fights is to always keep others safe, rather than worrying about his own life (even though he's already dead yohoho!). I think he's one of the characters, along with Chopper and Robin, that value life the most and that's what makes them so good at protecting others.

3- Jinbe

The reason why Jinbe is third is because his sense of morality varies from Brook and Chopper's more empathetic and nondiscriminatory way of protecting people. Jinbe tends to follow logic within morality instead of instant emotions and I personally value more people who extend their empathy to everyone without a second thought than genuinely thinking about it first before acting. He has his own set of morals and what he considers to be right or wrong. He thinks first before doing anything and considers the outcome of whether saving somebody is plausible or not in the situation. That doesn't make him selfish, but just a logical person. What sets the difference between the other two and him is that Jinbe won't help everyone and Chopper/Brook will not hesitate to do so. Jinbe's caring side is mostly shown to be to his loved ones and he doesn't generally extend that behavior to people outside of his circle. He literally refused to look after Luffy because he didn't know the guy, even if he was Ace's friend. He acknowledges he can't help everyone and just takes care of his people. And when he does that, he does it in the most selfless and self-sacrificing of ways! He would die for his loved ones without hesitating and his whole character arc is about Jinbe deserving a break from looking after everyone instead of enjoying his own life. They quite literally have to force him to follow what he truly wants and yet he still goes back to help his people before joining the Straw Hats. So the reason why Jinbe is third is because he's just like Chopper and Brook, except that he acknowledges the reality of the world and uses a more logical approach, being more personal when it comes to taking care of people. Also, he wants to keep peace around the world and the way he approaches people is in a very respectful manner and tries to keep conflicts at bay, which is directly looking out for common ground and pacifism. I almost forgot to mention his whole deal with the liberation of slaves, and that's obviously something that makes him an even greater person. He fights for a cause, against the unfairness of the world. He makes the world a better place.

4- Robin

I've had a hard time trying to think about whether she should go before or after Jinbe, but after some time debating it, I think this is the right place for her. Her whole character is basically all about learning how to live and love because she never had the chance to do so after so many years of suffering on her own. Her concept of helping others might be more altruistic than Jinbe's because I view her as somebody who would follow Chopper/Brook's standards and help everybody in need, instead of only keeping her protectiveness to her morality and circle. However, even if she's more altruistic and empathetic with outsiders, her view of socializing is more cynical than Jinbe's. She chooses a more abrupt way of fighting for what's right and instead of looking out for common peace and ground, she doesn't mind cracking a few necks and spines. She has fun with chaos and dark imagery, unlike Jinbe, who's a very caring man. And she is caring too! The sweetest! But Jinbe worries more about what could happen while Robin is still learning how to have fun and just vibes. She has this bit of selfishness and enjoyment for chaos and having a good time that Jinbe doesn't have because he's calmer than her. She's calm but she enjoys the fun drama, and Jinbe cares about his surroundings' well-being more. The way she treats enemies is crueler because Jinbe is polite while she doesn't care about cracking a few necks. Even if she's more empathetic towards strangers, looking out for the general peace is conventionally better for society than cracking people's necks, so, yeah. And she's a revolutionary and their views might follow a set of morals about freedom, but the way they deal with social issues is very arbitrary. Basically, she's a sweetie but she has a bit of a dark side.

5- Usopp

He's the sweetest guy of all time and normally wouldn't hurt a fly and he goes all the way to make everybody feel comfortable and have a sense of unity. However, the main difference between Usopp and the others (this is where the ranking kind of starts being more and more different in terms of complex morality) is that he's selfish out of fear and self-defense. A thing that is completely natural and proof that thinking about himself and his loved ones first doesn't make him a bad person, just careful and human. Selfishness is often seen as something bad and against the benefits of society as a whole, and it might be, but it doesn't make him a bad person (that again, I don't think we're able to judge this either). The cool thing about Usopp is that he's a growing character. He keeps learning more about himself every day and, even if he's a "coward", the bravest thing somebody can do is fight against fear. Especially when it comes to insecurities and when you're probably about to die. He isn't altruistic in the sense of risking his life for a stranger (unless he feels guilty about it or has the need to do so) but he is the kindest in the sense of embracing friendship and support. He brings domesticity and comfort to quite literally everybody he encounters. He's easy to befriend and to talk to. His whole thing about lying comes from trying to cheer up his mom about his dad leaving them, c'mon, even if he was suffering because of her illness. He fights for the ones he loves even if he's scared, and when he refuses to fight is when he doesn't know the people that much and, to be honest, fair. Nobody should be forced to sacrifice themselves for people they don't care about and I personally don't think that can talk about morality. Besides, the way he jokes around and does his little shenanigans with Luffy not really caring about the chaos around (besides when, y'know, personal safety) only makes everything I said more obvious.

6- Sanji

Sanji is a very... Complex character. The duality of men, basically. When he's kind he's at his best and when he's creepy he's at his worst but then he also has this view on how much people's lives matter depending on what he personally thinks. He's very emotion/trauma-driven, so perhaps that's why it's really hard to tell whether he follows a conventional morality or his own. His whole character arc is about him realizing that he's kind, empathetic, self-sacrificing, and everything the Vinsmokes aren't. But he also has a calculative and cold side that shows up when he doesn't give a single fuck about the people he's talking to. Basically, Sanji can be both the nicest and the meanest guy in the world depending on what he thinks of you, but he'll never let you starve due to his own morals of "nobody should die of hunger". Like he might beat the shit out of you but he's making you a damn risotto before the fight. Sanji is a very kind soul and he looks out for others and always puts them first, but his morality is pretty much focused on his past experiences. He also has these preferences for women, which are not morally correct (if you view this term as equality) because, unlike the other characters, he doesn't view their lives in the same way. However, that doesn't mean he hates men, he just puts women on a pedestal. He will put others first no matter what but if he doesn't care about you he won't give a single fuck. He literally was about to leave those kids in Punk Hazard and only helped because Nami said so. When he has to help somebody he cares about, though (or anybody, really) he always ends up self-sacrificing for the greater good. But it's not really coming from a place of "this is a good thing to do" but from a "their lives are more important than mine and I like to feel needed". Even if I do think he also does this out of empathy and love, both things coexist. He tries really hard to please others. He finds joy in feeling needed but also in making others happy, so it really is a mix of trauma and genuine kindness. He's quite literally the whole "doing good things because it feels good but also because it helps people, and helping people makes me feel good" but I don't think he does it in a selfish way, because he doesn't even realize he's doing it to feel better in the first place. He just doesn't value his life the way he should. So, TL;DR: Sanji's a selfless character when it comes to the people he loves and when his morals are at hand (huge difference between the other characters, who help people without having in mind those things), but if he doesn't care, he genuinely doesn't care. His self-sacrifice might come from a place of wanting to feel needed, and that could be seen as selfish, but I don't think he actively thinks about it. He just acts. The reason why he's number 6 despite being one of the kindest characters is because he canonically has preferences and uses his own morals to decide what to do instead of valuing everyone's lives equally. Besides, his whole thing being creepy with women (even if it's just a running gag) makes him less likable. But this is post-ts Sanji's fault mostly.

7- Franky

He's a family man. He puts his family and the people he loves first. He has his priorities and follows his morals about masculinity and that's it. Great pal that cares deeply about his loved ones and would beat the shit out of somebody if that person were to hurt him/them/his ideals. The reason why he's number seven despite seemingly being so nice at first, is pretty much because of his background. The whole Franky family? Beating up Usopp? Stealing the money? He was into very dark stuff, man. Mafia type of shit. That doesn't mean he's a bad person but his morals are pretty questionable, and they basically follow the "Protect family, protect home, protect ideals, befriend cool people, beat up people I don't like". He's very... American. I mean. He is technically canonically American and it makes a lot of sense if you think about it. He befriends people quickly but he can despise them just as quick too. Once again repeating the whole "only looks out for the people he likes or for his morals/what he loves" but if he isn't interested in something he'll just... Don't do it. But, yeah, he might be pretty empathetic because he resonates with all the sad stories he hears and doesn't hesitate to save people, but as I said, it's not really an "I save people because all people deserve to be saved" and it's more of an "I like this person so I'm gonna save them" which is exactly what happened with Usopp back at Water 7/Enies Lobby. I must say he's also kind, helpful, and energetic and loves to spread fun around the ship to make people happy. Seeing the ones he loves full of joy makes him complete, and that comes only from love. But he doesn't spread that love the way the characters before him would, you know? The reason why he's here is both because of his past and his behavior toward helping others which is basically about turning them into friends right away (which, you know, is exactly what Luffy does too).

8- Nami

She's a bitch. In the best of ways. But she's still a bitch. I'm always the first one to say she's one of the kindest characters. Her heart is just so, so big and she treats people in need with so much love it's obvious she has motherly traits and just loves to take care of people. However, the girl is greedy. She's greedy. Selfish. A liar. A thief. A bitch. A flirt. A queen, basically. To me, she's the best of the best and she would go on top if we were talking about best characters, but here we are judging based on morality and... She's just that. A bitch. With a very warm heart that just freezes the second she gives no fucks about you. You know, she's not evil, she just uses people to her advantage because (especially back at the start. Arlong Park things) she isn't used to trusting people. She has really obvious trust issues and she pretty much only loves a few specific people in her life. She would do anything for them. And yet, even when she loves somebody, she's still a manipulative menace. Morally speaking she's fucked up because she looks only for herself and the ones she cares about, and when she needs to run to save her ass, she does it. She doesn't leave anybody behind if she knows it's gonna be THE end, but if the one who's with her is only gonna end up hurt and not dead (usually Usopp. RIP Usopp) she's running for her life. Also, she's shameless and uses the strength of the Monster Trio to her advantage and I absolutely love it. She's the brains, let the others protect her fr. She knows she can fight, she's just scared af of dying and I find her so real for that. She likes teasing people and wrapping them around her finger to get what she wants! She doesn't care about anybody except for her crew because why would she? They're pirates! And she only does it when it's either about kids (she has a huge, soft, warm spot for them) or somebody she grows fond of. So, she's a sweetheart and a very caring girl to the ones she loves (or she's the meanest too, as a sign of true tough love) but she gives in between -10 and 0 fucks about others and will steal from them, no hesitation needed. She breaks so many morality norms within society that she makes the perfect pirate. Honestly, it looks like she's the only one in the crew interested in the part of being a pirate that's about stealing and treasures. I love her so damn much...

9- Luffy

A lot of people are going to disagree with me on this one, but this is the one part of the ranking I'm 100% sure about. And it's not even hard to explain: Luffy is selfish. He's a very selfish pirate. But he's empathetic, kind, and really easy to befriend if you manage him to like you. He also sees the good in people. But he isn't altruistic. He only helps people he chooses to help because he either likes them or finds them interesting enough or perhaps he owes them one or whatever. He loves people in such a huge way that, if he likes you, he'll do anything for you. Anything. But he only helps people he considers his friends/acquaintances without wanting to be seen as the hero of the story because he's literally just helping a friend out. If he doesn't care about somebody, he will just ignore them. Or be straight-up mean to them. He has no filter and if he hates somebody, he does it explicitly and without any remorse about it. He might be extremely empathetic and sacrifice his well-being but only when it comes to the people he cares about. Otherwise, he'll just groan in pain and boredom. On the other hand, Luffy is also Chaotic Good (haha me too!), and he has his own morals. They consist of freedom and liberty. He will help to free a whole village. Or prisoners. Slaves. Even if they aren't his friends. But only because all of his ideals are about freedom and choosing how to live your own life. It just bothers him personally. And it's not even "I'm helping these people be freed because they deserve it" it's more of a "The concept of cutting somebody's wings makes me so fucking furious I'm gonna make this everybody's problem. I don't care what these people do after this adventure, but they should be able to have the freedom to choose". So, yeah, basically Luffy follows his ideals of "I do whatever the fuck I want" and "Don't hurt my friends. Don't go against freedom. Or I'll beat you up". He's very stubborn, too. Chaotic. He doesn't think about how his decisions will affect others. He's a very independent person when it comes to decision making but he's also very needy in the sense of needing people around him to feel safe because he is, after all, an extrovert who loves his friends/family to death. Luffy is selfish because he does whatever he wants, even if he's empathetic, kind, and understanding. Those concepts can coexist perfectly.

10- Zoro

I don't think I need to explain this much, honestly? He's very introverted and doesn't let people in easily, so he just doesn't care about people who aren't in his circle. He fights for his loved ones to death and holds the people he loves close to his heart, to the point of doing anything for them. But... But his morals are basically shit outside of that. He used to kill pirates for bounties without any hesitation. He still pretty much murders the people they fight against without any remorse. And, y'know, they're pirates so I'm not judging here. He's selfish in the sense of being a very protective person with his things and his personal space, and he can come off as rude to outsiders because, well, he is genuinely rude to them because he genuinely doesn't care about them. Unless he befriends somebody, strangers to him are just strangers and he couldn't give less of a fuck about them and their tragedies UNLESS they're going through something that goes against his own/or a nakama's morals. I personally think he's a sweetheart, but if we're following moral codes about the well-being of society as a whole and how much positive impact somebody does? He's, like, the last one to choose from the crew. He cares about Kuina, his swords, Luffy, and his Nakama. Perhaps he befriends somebody along the way but it always feels more like just respect and not really a friendship. Not saying Zoro is a bad person for his introverted personality and cynical behavior, I just think he's very intimate with his circle and will only do what he thinks necessary instead of focusing on selflessness and altruism as a society. He's pretty strict about the pirate code and he follows those rules solemnly, so he does have a type of morality, but he doesn't focus on society's well-being. He doesn't mind causing chaos if he gets what he wants. He's just chilling. Passing by. I honestly think Nami/Zoro is a great friendship because they're both little shameless bitches. TL;DR: Zoro loves crew only. Fuck other people. Might respect acquaintances. Strong pirate/swordsman moral code. But he isn't an altruistic/society/people person.

#i spent the whole day writing this lmfao #okay so there are some things i would've liked to write better and expand more and also word in a better way but i didn't have the time #it's a pretty messy post so i'm sorry i couldn't do something better!!! #i understand if you think differently btw this is just my honest opinion and i see why it could be very recherché #btw i didn't reread all of this so if there are any mistakes just ignore them #one piece #straw hat pirates #tony tony chopper #soul king brook #jinbe #nico robin #usopp #black leg sanji #franky #nami #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @buddieswhvre @disasterbuckdiaz @dangerpronebuddie 💖💖💖

more of the cheating fic bc I said this is my main focus rn and it is haha (I might have something different for friday tho 🙈) I hope I'll finish this scene before I post all of it in snippets lol the convo just keeps going and going istg haha

prev snippet

___

 “What are you doing here so early? After last night, I thought you two would be dead to the world the whole day.” she teases, then goes to get a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Karen.” Buck responds quietly, not answering the question. Hen does it for him.

“Buck’s having a crisis. He slept with Eddie.” Hen says, and Karen turns towards them, eyes wide, but then the surprise turns into a smile.

“Well, finally.” she chuckles, reaching into the cupboard for a mug. “I thought it’d take them decades to figure it out.” she pauses, then frowns, turning towards Buck again. And he chooses to ignore that comment, because what the hell did she even mean? “Wait, what happened with you and Taylor? When did you guys break up? Did I miss some 118 gossip?” she asks, shooting her wife a questioning look.

“No, you didn’t, they’re still together..” Hen responds, scrutinizing gaze not leaving Buck. “He cheated on her.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @911-on-abc @daffi-990 @jesuisici33

#buddie cheating fic #wip wednesday #as you can imagine karen's gonna be sooo angry and together henren will (figuratively) beat some sense into him <3 #(he's gonna make just one or two more massively stupid things after that but then he'll get his shit together i promise haha) #fic: got a girl at home (but I love the way you taste) #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #i should stop posting so many snippets of this fic before i post the whole thing haha #btw i started a new wip but i'll save it until i have more to share (maybe friday lol) #it's gonna be a different first meeting fic that's inspired by brooke davis' bachelorette party but that's all im gonna say rn lol

[laracrofted]

❝ like runaway horses, it's a long way back home again when every step is a silver prayer in the face of a hard wind // upcoming rhett abbott x oc fic

across the montana state line; past the cattle ranches and the fenced-in pastures filled with horses; down a rough dirt road that becomes damn near untenable in a good rain storm, winding through fields of wildflowers and sun-bleached brush until the land drops away into wide open skies; is a little house. a half-wild thing.

or a broken-hearted rhett abbott helps luke tillerson's fiancée skip town and over the course of a year, begins again.

#my goal is to write this in mid-march/april #but i'm not writing it until i finish biho because i'm not capable of working on more than one series #fic: runaway horses #rhett abbott x mae brooks #oc: mae brooks #outer range fic #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott x oc #ames makes things #laracrofted writes

[tellthatbrokebitch]

mike can’t stop staring.

will bruised like a peach; he always had. every spill off his bike, every knock against fences and trees, every wrestling match over the remote, every sleepless night – would bloom out over his skin in stages of black and blue and yellow and green.

but this-

they’re here, sitting in the back of the pizza van as it carries them to their destination, the calm before the storm, and mike can’t stop staring. at some point the sleeve of will’s shirt had torn at the seam where arm met shoulder, the excess material hanging off and down to his elbow, baring skin seldom seen these days, where will seemed to be gravitating towards long-sleeved button-ups and away from regular tees.

it was this skin that captured mike’s attention, and for once it’s not for the pale, smooth skin itself. there are bruises marring that skin, bruises forming a pattern that is both familiar and infuriating. “does it hurt?” he asks, hushed and quiet in the relative silence of the van. when will looks away from the window, brows creased in confusion, he gestures to will’s arm. “you have… bruises,” he explains, hating the recognition in will’s eyes that wars with resignation, “where that dickhead grabbed you.”

will’s other hand comes up to tug the material aside, and suddenly mike can see all of it, the fingertip-shaped spots that are already black and blue and hints of a deep purple, stark against skin that hasn’t seen sunlight in months. will’s hand shifts and the pad of his index finger unconsciously settles directly overtop one of the bruises. mike feels like throwing up. “oh. it doesn’t hurt, just kind of… aches,” will admits. he smooths the cotton back into place and somehow it’s worse now, worse now that it’s hidden from view but mike knows they’re there, just beneath the surface.

without thinking it through, he reaches out to touch, and they both still when his hand grazes will’s sleeve. swallowing thickly, he drags it along the length of will’s arm, going at a near glacial pace as they both watch its progress silently. once it reaches the spot just below the beginning of the bruising, it stops there, hovering a bit before slowly, softly flattening against the fabric of his sleeve, curving around the bend of his elbow.

into the blanketed silence, mike’s quiet words sound like a shout. “you sure? i could… kiss it better.”

#tellthatbrookebitch #stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #help idk what this is #i was Thinking and then suddenly google docs was open #kind of set in the middle of a hypothetical s5 #i need a writing tag #brooke’s writing tag #byler fic

[to-the-all-blue]

A curse turns the crew against Sanji a short time after Wano. It's subtle at first. Subtle enough that he chalks their weird behavior up to WCI. In his mind, he's sure the crew probably just feels uncomfortable around him after he betrayed them. So it doesn't matter that Usopp said something unusually cruel or that Nami threw a glass at him because, well, he understands that he fucked up. And they're his crew, right? He can bear it if that's what they need. Not to mention they're in the middle of the ocean, so it's not like he can leave and give them space.

Then it escalates. Then he's getting hurt. And he starts to realize this is something more. He tries to research it, but the crew won't let him. They gang up on him, making him work nonstop: taking every watch and cooking and repairing the ship and not being allowed to sleep and, and...It doesn't end. If he falters, they punish him. After only a couple weeks of this, he's left exhausted and in pain.

One day it comes to a head. Harsh words turn into a fight which turns into the crew ganging up on him as if he's an enemy combatant and he just can't. He sees them crowd him and he remembers his brothers and he stumbles. He's too exhausted to dodge, too scared of hurting them to fight back. So they get him pinned and are about to finish him off when...

Clarity.

They all wake up, suddenly. The curse is broken and Sanji is nearly dead on the ground between them and they remember.

#op fanfic #kinda #sanji #t: hurt/comfort #i had this vision in my head of Brook's sword in sanjis hand and zoros blades about to kill him when they all suddenly stop #i have a lot of other little scenes in my mind about this but who knows if ill actually get a chance to write it #so im putting it here #i just LOVE the idea of self-sacrificial sanji refusing to defend himself against his nakama #and i also like the idea of the angst after it all #zoro would be pissed that sanji didnt fight back #but at the same time he knows he would have done the same thing bc they are the crew's protectors after all #everyone else would remember the words they said and the things they did and would be sick #maybe luffy would get unnaturally quiet not sure this time how to make it all right #they are a powerful crew. theres no enemy they cant beat...unless it's them 👀

[creaturefeaster]

it feels like this. trying so hard to wait until what im making is actually cohesive and put together properly before i start sharing anything major.

#once it is cohesive though I'll probably have to settle with sharing it as sketches rather than full drawings #unless i get someone to help me with drawing but idk. this is my baby. im very particular about my baby......... #im gonna try and make this VN in chapters and share them one at a time #rather than try to make a whole thing all at once before sharing cause that'd take. so so so long #i got to brooks intro though so im like... 3/4ths of the way through the code writing at at least

[atticcreationz]

[Ruth is talking to Brooke at her locker, then the bell rings, and Ruth runs over to join Richie and Pete on the way to class, blushing]

RICHIE: Ruth, is that a ~spark~ I detect between you and Brooke?

RUTH: maybe 😏 I get all warm and fuzzy when I talk to her...!

PETE: uh, that might just be the fires

[all three turn around to see Brooke setting her own locker ablaze]

#nerdy prudes must die #once again: i think ruth should get to have a very short flirtatious relationship with brooke as a treat #she deserves it #(and then call the fire brigade) #every time i have fanart i want to draw and get sad that i dont have time and/or am im in too much pain to sit down and draw it i say hey #write it down instead baby you dont have to draw it #write down the silly things so theyre not bouncing around in your head #on a related note some rambling thoughts #im trying to get comfy writing more than drawing - i always felt nervous writing since college and always thought i was bad at it #but a) fuck it and b) its been a nice compromise between my urge to draw and my sadness at how im too in pain to draw on my own time anymore #and some friends have been incredibly nice and encouraging about small things ive written recently and i cant even theyre so kind 😭✨ #anyways back to the regularly scheduled tags sorry #starkid #team starkid #ruth fleming #brooke npmd #npmd #starkid npmd #richie lipschitz #peter spankoffski

[demi-pixellated]

🌱 In the Garden🌱 Commission for @nutbranch --

Commission Info Here

#Tiger & Bunny #T&B #Taibani #Kotetsu T. Kaburagi #Barnaby Brooks Jr. #Fanart #Commissions #Oh this was so much Fun!! #just real happy with a bunch of little things in here; the hair clips. the bulb planter. the sapling trays. the crocs #i was gonna write in 'Plant Mama' on the apron but i couldn't get the letters to look right #and its fine without #just oooooo i loved this thankyou for the comm🥰🥰🥰🥰

[calliesadeckis]

jaiden's masterlist

welcome to my main masterlist everyone. where you can see fics from the following fandoms and characters. and you are free to request for the following fandoms for oneshots, headcanons, or just sending your fluffy or horny thoughts in my inbox (i don't judge)

requests: temporarily closed

character's i write for

symbols that represents the fics: fluff (♡) angst (✦) smut (☆)

yellowjackets

headcanons

celebrating christmas with taivan ♡

dc titans

( currently none )

stranger things (no longer writing)

steve harrington

so take your time while you're mine and smoke slow ✦

robin buckley

and i despise my jealous eyes ✦♡

fear street

tommy slater

tommy dating a sunnyvale reader headcanons ♡

teen wolf

scott mccall

puppy love ♡

isaac lahey

i need you to need me back ✦

malia tate

the weird girl and her coyote ✦♡

scream

headcanons

throuple with tara & chad headcanons ♡

miscellaneous

brooke davis

i dare you to kiss me ♡

madison montgomery

i knew it ♡

#yellowjackets x reader #titans x reader #dc titans x reader #stranger things x reader #teen wolf x reader #fear street x reader #scream x reader #steve harrington x reader #scott mccall x reader #isaac lahey x reader #malia tate x reader #tara carpenter x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #brooke davis x reader #madison montgomery x reader #jaiden writes things

[ohlawsons]

03. complicated | chargestep, 983 words pre-heartbreak dani and themmy bonding, ft. dani feeling Very Normal about julia in formal wear

2012

“Popcorn?”

“Nah.” Dani doesn’t bother looking up from where they’re sprawled on the armchair, one leg tucked beneath them and the other draped over the arm. They scroll aimlessly through their phone, stubbornly ignoring the nagging little pang that thrums in their chest, a steady reminder of Julia’s absence.

It happens too often, these days. Missing her as soon as she’s not at their side.

“Alright.” Anathema’s cheery voice breaks through their thoughts. “So, that means I’m making enough for two and you can steal mine and say you don’t want any.” Dani knows, without looking, that the end of that statement is accompanied by a wide grin and overly enthusiastic air quotes.

They crane their neck to glance back into the kitchen, where Anathema’s tearing open the wrapping on a pouch of microwave popcorn. “I’m not Julia,” they insist, maybe just a tad defensive. “I don’t want any.”

Their only answer is a doubtful little hum, but they don’t reach for a second bag of popcorn, at least. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Charity event.” Tucking their phone away, Dani stretches to grab the remote from the side table and flips to the local news; sure enough, they’re greeted with a pair of reporters tasked with breaking down the celebrity guest appearances. This is why they’ve turned down every invitation to be Julia’s plus one — that, and the fact that being around that many over-inflated egos is difficult, and because they can’t figure out a way to say “yes” without feeling like they’re agreeing to a date.

Which it would be. And they’re not dating. Not Julia.

“Oh, no, we’re not—“ Anathema’s words are drowned out by the sudden popping from the microwave, and they slip out of the kitchen to stand behind the couch. “We’re not sitting here watching this. I was promised a fun movie night, not watching you make yourself miserable.”

“You asked where she was,” Dani defends themself, giving as innocent of a shrug as they can manage. “I’m just showing you. And I’m not miserable.” It’s not a lie. Not these days.

Anathema gives them a wordless, doubtful look, one eyebrow cocked upwards, red curls bouncing around their face as they tilt their head. “Dani—“ The microwave timer beeps, and they give Dani a long look before retreating back into the kitchen. “Pick out a movie, then,” they call over their shoulder, evidently giving up on whatever argument they’d been ready to make.

But Dani’s not listening, their eyes glued to the screen as a picture pops up onto the screen — a picture of themself, grainy and blurry and mostly unrecognizable as they sit in a dimly lit restaurant opposite Julia.

(She’s just out of frame but they remember the evening so vividly it may as well have been seared into their mind. The blazer had been a bit too tight in the shoulders. The dress shoes had been stiff and left their feet aching all night. Their hair — worn loose for once, at Julia’s request — kept slipping from where they tucked it behind their ear.

But Julia had been… radiant. Red dress. Dark, sultry makeup. Arms and shoulders and cleavage on full display, for Dani. They’ve made a lot of stupid decisions since their escape, but the way Julia had looked that night had very nearly led to the stupidest decision they could ever make.)

The picture shifts, minimizing until it sits on the corner of the screen, overlayed atop a clip from tonight — Julia in a fitted white suit, blouse unbuttoned low enough to be somewhere between tasteful and daring, giving the camera a charming grin that would, normally, send Dani’s heart racing—

—if not for the fact that the reporters are currently focused not on Julia, but on the man beside her. The boyfriend of the week. The tasteful arm candy meant to keep the tabloids sated.

“Told you.” Anathema’s voice is soft, their chastisement kinder than Dani deserves. They hold out a small bowl of popcorn — and despite their earlier insistence, Dani’s glad for some distraction, something to do with their hands — and take the tv remote in exchange. The channel flips to something safe; a used car ad plays in the background as Anathema turns to them with a thoughtful look that very carefully contains no pity. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” They shake their head like that’s enough to clear it. “It’s just… they had a picture of me. From dinner a few weeks back. It’s too blurry to really see anything, but…”

“Oh. Shit.”

They’re not jealous, not of the boyfriends Julia keeps around — do they even have any right to be? — because they know Charge has a reputation and they know, too, that she does her very best to live up to it. Besides, it’s not like they’ve done anything to discourage it; it’s an arrangement that works out well for them both, Dani thinks, even if they can’t quite swallow down the sharp longing that tugs at them.

They’re not jealous of the men she keeps around, but god do they wish they could be enough for her.

Still, it’s easier to pretend the photo is the only thing that’s rattled them. Anathema doesn’t know, not about them, not the specifics, but they know enough to guess that Dani has a past they’re hiding from; they’ve always gotten a similar sense from Anathema, and there’s an understanding there that makes them a more comfortable friend than any of the other Rangers.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Maybe they’re trying to convince themself as much as Anathema. “Do you have a movie in mind?” The look they shoot Anathema is just shy of pleading, and they’re pretty sure they’ll pick up on it.

They do, and Anathema gives a wide smile as they plop down on the couch. “Yeah. You up for some shitty sci-fi?”

#fhr #fallen hero #chargestep #sidestep #fhr anathema #dani gutierrez tag #fic: dani #the sound of regret fic #brooke writes things

[harringtown]

you kissed me just to kiss me

because we all need some soft eddie fluff in our days <3 

requested by anonymous

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the reader has never been kissed. eddie volunteers to be the first (no plot just sap and smoochin’)

word count: 1.5k

-

Nothing about Eddie matches the bedroom, yet he seems effortlessly at ease among posters he doesn’t recognize, lounging on the end of a bed that isn’t his, a worn novel he found on the bedside spread across his lap like he’s the one who dogeared all the pages.

He doesn’t quite fit with the image, but somehow, he enhances it. Turns a boring room into a shining landscape.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie says, setting the long-abandoned book aside. He rolls onto his stomach, propped up on his elbows with his hands on his chin like a little kid. He waggles his brows. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Not happening.”

Eddie pouts. “Hey. I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

Your cheeks flame, but you manage to lift your brows and say, “You volunteered that information. And I’m pretty sure you just wanted to brag, because we all know Annabelle Jones looks like a supermodel, now.”

“Tomato, tomato.” He waves a hand. “Come on. Your first couldn’t have been that bad. I swear, I won’t judge.” He makes the sign of the cross, but you’re fairly sure he does it backwards. It almost makes you smile.

Almost. But the line of questioning is edging too close to a cliff that you spend most of your time far away from.

“Do I know ‘em?”

You frown. “No.”

“Ah, out of towner. Or a whirlwind vacation romance?” Eddie waggles his brows.  

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a long moment before you say, “I haven’t.”

Eddie frowns. “Haven’t…?”

“Haven’t kissed anyone,” you say, and want to dissolve into the beanbag you’re sitting on.

Eddie’s lips part, and he stares at you for a long moment, like his brain has short-circuited.

You push off the beanbag and cross to your window, folding your arms and looking back at him.

“You said you wouldn’t judge,” you say.

Eddie shakes his head, quickly pushing up to a sitting position. “No, I wasn’t—it’s not that.” A line forms between his brows. “I’m just surprised, I guess.” He clears his throat. You can tell he’s about to ask the question, the one you ask yourself, the why, the how, and before he can, you answer.

“I always felt like I was… behind. It seemed like everyone and their mother was making out with someone under the bleachers. And by the time I graduated, I’d convinced myself it just wasn’t meant for me. That maybe there was just something wrong with me. I think part of me knew that wasn’t and that it’d happen eventually, but…” You let your gaze drift out the window, onto the bright afternoon street. “But it didn’t. And that part of me that believed in it got smaller. And now, here I am.”

The mattress squeaks in protest as Eddie climbs off it, and you hear him come to stand beside you, but you don’t look at him.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” he says. “You hear me? Nothing.”

You shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, I’m still… behind.” A bitter smile twists on your lips. “How do you even tell someone that? Hey, so, before you kiss me, you should know, I’ve never even held a boy’s hand?”

“You’re not behind,” Eddie says. “So, what, you didn’t make out with some brace-face twelve year old, or get stuck in a closet with some asshole for seven minutes in heaven. That doesn’t mean shit. It sure as hell doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

“It does mean I have no clue what I’m doing. Even if—” You stop, trailing off before the words someone wanted to kiss me come out, because they still sound ridiculous. Fake. A beautiful fantasy.

Eddie is quiet for a moment. When he finally does speak, he says the last thing you expect.

“I could show you,” he says, and there’s something in his tone that makes you suddenly aware of how small the windowsill you’re both tucked into is.

“What?” you ask, heart kickstarting, nerves racing up and down your skin like electricity down a wire.

“Your first kiss, that’s a story you’re gonna tell for the rest of your life,” Eddie says. “You deserve a better story than some drunk hookup at a party with a stranger.” Eddie is seldom serious, but this, his hesitation and his soft tone, is different.

You risk a glance his way and find him already watching you. He’s closer than he was a second ago, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating, and you’re fighting every urge to run for the door.

“The first person who kisses you,” he says, “should be someone who actually gives a shit about you.” He licks his lips. You’ve spent your fair share of time staring at those lips—more than you should. And then he grins, like can read your mind, and normally, it’d irritate you, but right now, it’s like sparking a match.

“You don’t have to do that,” you whisper. Your heart beats like a kick drum, so loud you’re surprised Eddie can’t hear.

His grin softens, and he shifts back, just a bit. For a split second, you think he’s decided against his own proposition, but then he says, “There’s no pressure. It’s just an offer, love.”

Eddie Munson has called you a dozen things besides your own name, but never that, and never like this.

“It’s no big deal if you don’t want to,” he presses. “But if you change your mind—”

“No,” you say. “I want to.” Heat rises up your neck, across your cheeks, all the way to your ears.

Eddie’s brows twitch. “You’re sure?”

You nod. But still, Eddie goes on, “Don’t just say it because you think you have to. You don’t. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“Eddie.” He pauses, and you gather up whatever courage you have to say, “Kiss me.”

For a moment, he looks at you like he’s never seen you before, and part of you feels the same. You’ve met a dozen versions of Eddie in the three months you’ve been friends, but not this one.

He lifts a hand to your face, thumb tracing gently down the corner of your mouth, to your chin, and back up. You will yourself still as he moves closer, closer, until his warm breath tickles your skin.

Eddie nudges your chin up, and your eyes fall shut. A beat later, Eddie brushes his lips against yours, ever so softly. It’s the ghost of a kiss, so soft and small you could have imagined it.

You shift back, struggling to think beyond the flames in your cheeks and the racing of your heart.

Eddie’s eyes snap open as you drag your tongue along your bottom lip, and his gaze darts down, and up again. His lips part, as if to speak, but you don’t give him the chance, leaning forward to kiss him once more.

And this time, you feel it. Slow, careful, his mouth against yours. Lemon shampoo and that spicy, earthy scent that cling to him always, and curls tickling your cheeks, and his hands, slipping to your waist and drawing you closer.

You may not have any shred of experience, but you’ve read enough books and seen enough movies to have a few ideas about how this works. So, when Eddie’s mouth parts, you sweep your tongue across his bottom lip. A shudder rolls through him, and though you didn’t think it was possible, Eddie pulls you closer, so close you can feel his heart thrumming against his chest.

At some point in the last few seconds, you started to back up, and when the backs of your knees collide with the tall seat of the windowsill, Eddie breaks from your lips just long enough to murmur, “Jump,” before he’s kissing you again. You do, and he guides you up, onto the sill, pushing between your knees.

And all you can think is, I can’t believe I waited this long. But not just to kiss someone. To kiss him.

Or maybe, that was the whole point. That all this time, you’d been waiting for him to stumble along.

Only when your lips are swollen and your lungs are screaming for air do you pull back, and even then, Eddie holds your face between his hands, his thumbs trailing up and down your cheeks.

“You have no idea,” he says, “how long I’ve wanted to do that.” And it’s like Eddie can sense you’re about to protest, or doubt it, because he adds, “Since the day I met you. You handed me that stupid, stupid work shirt—” You smile, and he’s smiling, too. He leans closer, bumps his nose with yours once. “—and I just knew. This girl is going to royally fuck up my life. And I couldn’t wait.”

“So, you’re saying we could have been doing this for three months?” you ask.

Eddie laughs, and you wish you could crystallize that sound, carry it on a keychain with you forever.

“Guess we’ll have to make up for lost time, then,” he says.

And even though it’s a little difficult to kiss with all the smiling, you manage to make it work.

-

taglist: @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ 

#me??? writing something under 2k??? who'd have thought #brooke writes fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #x reader

[cinnbar-bun]

Second scrapbook attempt- this time with our lover boy, Sanji~! I was inspired by my Claude Monet stickers and the blue stickers I had so I chose them for this one.

(Also I hope you guys don’t mind I post these, I know it’s not writing but I do like interacting about other things besides my writing)

#scrapbook #not writing #rambles #oh I can’t wait to do a brook one #and a Hancock one #I decided to order some more stickers and stuff to really match them #but wow scrapbooking is so relaxing #I actually decided to try it after I read a post about someone talking about things being ‘loved’ and used #and I decided to change my things up a bit to try that out #isn’t life so grand?

[themetaphorgirl]

Patron Saint of Lost Causes

chapter 25: boreas

They all ended up at boarding school for different reasons, but they ended becoming a makeshift family of their own. And thank goodness for that, because they might not survive the school year without each other.

read on ff.net | read on AO3 | read on Wattpad | the boarding school AU | the playlist

(Art by @fragolinaa )

Ned rummaged around in the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

James shrugged. “Midterms are coming up,” he said. “Not looking forward to that.”

Ned hummed in sympathetic agreement as he set a skillet on the stove and started cracking eggs into it. “So that’s all that’s bothering you?” he said. 

“Yeah, I guess,” James said. 

Ned raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” James said, bewildered. 

“So you’re not stressing yourself out over a certain pretty girl that you’ve wanted to ask out since you were fourteen, who’s currently asleep upstairs?”

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #aaron hotchner #hotch #alex blake #alex miller #james blake #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #jj jareau #derek morgan #spencer reid #haley hotchner #haley brooks #hotchley #jalex

[underratedandoverit]

Study Time

chris brookes/drew parker (can technically be read as gen i guess)

829 words

indulged in fluff last night. its short, i just wanted to do something sweet cause i cant get this dynamic of these idiots out of my head and i need to do something with it

on ao3

----------

Unlocking the door to his studio apartment, Chris nudged it open with his foot, sliding in from the small opening he managed to create. He didn’t need much space to get himself inside, it was more of the matter of the fact of bringing the grocery bags in with him, but with a few years of practice under his belt at that point, he managed to do it without an issue. Kicking the door shut after him he peeked over the paper bags in his arms inside the small one room space, a brief smile crossing his lips at the sight of the other man sitting by the table across the room.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking to the table, lowering the bags from his hands on it. Drew glanced up at him, Chris looking right past him to the table, answering his own question with the sight of the book he had open in front of him. “Oh, it’s study time.”

Drew turned back away from him, eyes focusing back on the notebook on the table. Chris observed him for a second, waiting for him to start drawing the letters on the page again as Drew impatiently tapped the pen against the paper. Shaking his head Chris switched to emptying the grocery bags, moving the items to their places around the small kitchen.

Lowering a can of energy drink to the table before removing the empty bags from it, eyes landing back on Drew’s notebook. His brows furrowed a little as he didn’t see any progress being made on the page so far, Drew just having moved to slightly chewing at the end of his pen as his eyes stared at the open pages.

“Dude.”

Drew didn’t look up at him, but Chris could see his jaw tensing as he bit the pen again, this time not letting it go. Who knows how long he had been sitting there, just staring at the notebook, trying to get something done. He had been asleep still when Chris had slipped out to take care of some things. Sure he had been out for a couple of hours, but it was unlikely that he had been at this for very long – usually Drew wasn’t even up before midday, and even then he needed at least an hour to adjust to being awake again, let alone working on something that required his attention as much as the Japanese studies did.

Without a word Drew just reached for the energy drink with his free hand, pulling it closer. Chris watched him, a little smirk crossing his lips as he reached hand towards the other man, ruffling his faded blue hair a little with a chuckle.

“What’s the matter, the little squiggles giving you a hard time?”

Drew pouted at him, biting down on the pen to hold it in his mouth as his other hand reached for the energy drink can, popping it open with ease. Spitting the pen out to the table he took a sip from the can, finally looking up at Chris, the taller man still grinning down at him.

“Really?”

As Drew still didn’t reply to him, Chris stepped aside, pulling another chair by the table, taking a seat next to the other man. Crossing his arms on the table as he leaned against them, Chris tried to hold back a chuckle as he watched Drew pick up the pen again.

“So, where are you struggling?”

Instead of replying anything back to him, Drew reached for him with his free hand, grabbing one of his arms on the table. Chris’s eyes narrowed a little, but he allowed himself to be directed as Drew untangled his arms, sliding his hand from his elbow that he had grabbed down to his hand, fitting his on it with ease, interlacing their fingers together, Chris just following the motion, amused.

Squeezing Chris’s hand as if to reassure himself, Drew inhaled deeply, finally Chris seeing him start slowly copying the symbols on the notebook to the empty space on the page.

“You need to hold my hand so you can do this?”

“It helps me concentrate.”

His voice was very quiet, but obviously loud enough for Chris to hear. He just looked at the side of Drew’s face as he tried to focus on his tasks at hand, a soft pink creeping on his cheek as Chris in turn squeezed his hand.

“You’re such a sap.”

Without warning Chris leaned closer, pressing a little peck on his cheek, making Drew froze in place in the middle of writing. With a chuckle Chris let go of his hand, standing up on his seat as he watched Drew drop the pen from his hand again, hands shooting on his face as he let out a frustrated groan.

Chris leaned closer again, pressing another peck in his hair, followed by a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying pushing Drew's buttons like this.

“I love you too, idiot.”

#drabble #i dont know if this is anything but eh i did some things #also i will most likely write more with them as i have. thoughts. ideas. but we'll see #character: chris brookes #character: drew parker #ship: chrisdrew #wrestling fanfiction