#little scribble

[brambleghostart]

[panpuntastic]

It's a headcanon that Guzma has anger issues, deals with alcoholism aaand possibly ptsd, here have a scribble

tw: Alcoholism, Guzma relapse (he'll get help)

Summary:

Oliver P.O.V

There are a few signs that let him know when not to talk to Guzma.

Because sometimes Guzma is completely closed off, and it takes days for him to cool off. Oliver doesn't know if leaving him alone is what helps, and sometimes he breaks the unspoken rule of staying away from the big bad boss.

Relapse

Oliver P.O.V

There are a few signs that let him know when not to talk to Guzma.

Because sometimes Guzma is completely closed off, and it takes days for him to cool off. Oliver doesn't know if leaving him alone is what helps, and sometimes he breaks the unspoken rule of staying away from the big bad boss.

  Oliver always knocks on the door of his little brothers and sisters, annoys them, then leaves. This applies to Plumeria and Guzma too, and sometimes, because he forgets to not be annoying during these days, he enters Guzma's room.

  He wears a wide smile as he calls for his big brother, but it stops instantly when he takes a look at Guzma. He had just put down the bottle.

 They stare at each other, a death glare in Guzma's piercing eyes, and Oliver simply stands there.

"What."

  It's early, and the room reeks of alcohol; it's in his nose when he inhales, and the bags under Guzma's eyes tell him that the man hasn't been sleeping well. He wants to question what's wrong but the words are stuck in his mouth.

"I said, what." he growls, anger rising to his now closed fists.

  Oliver swallows sharply, a hint of unknown fear coming by, but a strong sense of denial tackling his instincts. Because he wouldn't. All bark no bite, he thinks.

"I'm bored" Oliver blurted out, "let's hang"

"No" the older man says, he slurs the words, but his eyes look dark with rage. "Get the fuck out. Im not in the fucking mood"

"Boo, party pooper" Oliver comes in, closing the door behind him, and lets himself fall in the bed while taking out his phone.

"Hey, snotface, I said get out"

"And I said I'm bored," he scrolls through his phone; he knows he's overstepping, he knows he's being a brat, but he can't exactly go fetch his dad to talk to Guzma to make things better this time around.

 So he stays, much to Guzma's displeasure.

  A few minutes pass by and he laughs at the memes in the Team Skull group chat. Oliver tries to show them to Guzma, but he's just chugging down his bottle. He stares, Plumeria said it used to be much worse, she told him Guzma had been working on it since he became the boss, so he just stares. It doesn’t take a lot for his cousin to notice; he stops.

"Hey, gimme some"

"Get your own"

"C'mon I'm thirsty"

"Then go get some at the kitchen"

"You go get some at the kitchen"

"This is my room?!?"

"Yeah, but I'm not going to Trev’s station so he can headbutt the hell outta me because I asked for booze!!"

"Neither am I you shithead, why do you think I have this many bottles here?!"

"Learn to share, brat!"

"Who you calling brat, brat?!"

  They bicker on and on, after a few minutes he realizes his cousin is no longer holding onto his beer, and has already gotten up to kick his ass, but he doesn't.

Guzma plays along when he throws an over exaggerated punch, along with a sound effect he makes. When it 'connects' Guzma blocks it with both arms; to that Oliver pretends to fall back, and screams in a high pitch tone.

"Ah, fuck, my head. Why you scream so loud? Are ya five?"

"You hangover?"

When there's no answer coming out, he asks.

"Didya eat something today?"

"...So what?"

  Of course he gets up, but before leaving, he sits Guzma on the bed.

"Be right back, you stay right there"

"Snotface..."

"I mean it, I'll be back"

    Right before getting to the door he can hear his cousin say, in a tone he barely recognizes.

“Please…Don’t tell”

    He nods, but cannot look back, and it breaks him. His Scrafty leaves his Pokéball suddenly, and stares at them. 

“Keep an eye on the boss, yeah?” 

  As he gets past that door there’s a lump in his throat, something in his eye, and the first two steps are the hardest. 

  Luckily he doesn’t bump into Plumes, and getting a meal from Trevor isn’t hard. He thinks he’s not a good liar when his brother doesn’t let him leave until he makes Tapu Cocoa. 

  He doesn’t knock the door when he’s back, and while Guz eats up, he makes up his mind to not knock the door ever again.

[obsessedwithallthingsbooks]

Smile, Kaladin

I know it’s almost Christmas. I know.

But... uh... Couple weeks ago I was supposed to be paying attention in biology and i was... not paying attention in Biology. So this has been copied with some Minor Editing straight from my in class notebook. I hope you enjoy--Merry early Christmas, here’s a ?slightly AU? Halloween headcanon (in which Shallan notices Kaladin working instead of celebrating.)

~~

“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have to wear a costume to be unrecognizable. All you’d have to do is wear a smile.”

On Kaladin’s shoulder, Syl nodded. “You don’t smile much, Kaladin. Especially at people.”

That wasn’t true, and they both knew it. He’d smiled with his family. He smiled at Bridge Four. It was insufferable lighteyes who he didn’t smile around, and for good reason.

“I smile,” he grunted, pointedly not smiling.

Shallan gaped. Then she laughed. “Poor Bridgeman. You never learned? Do you need Adolin to demonstrate?”

“Do you need me to what?” Adolin asked, jogging over--a smile already spread across his face.

“Our sour Captain of the Guard never learned how to smile.”

“Not at you,” Kaladin refuted.

Adolin ignored Kaladin’s comment. “Unsurprising,” he said to Shallan. Then he turned to Kaladin with that same, fixed expression spread across his face, somehow even wider. “C’mon, Kal. You can do it,” he encouraged. His face was nearly breaking from beaming. 

“This is ridiculous,” Kaladin’s scowl deepened. He had work to do, and participating in some lighteyes’ mockery game wasn’t part of it. His brows furrowed, and he was about to stalk away when Syl propped herself up on his shoulder, tapping his chin to get his attention. Her dress fluttering over her knees in the wind, she turned. Then she mimicked Adolin’s smile, down to the pose of his stance and the stretch of his lips--which, though trembling--he still held, flawlessly. The imitation was incredible--especially with a live version with which to compare it to--so much so that Kaladin was startled into a laugh. 

Adolin’s expression dropped in surprise. “I knew you had one!” He exclaimed. Then, he found the strength to smile again. “Shallan, you’re a genius.”

“I know,” Shallan said, staring strangely at Kaladin.

“What are you doing?” Kaladin asked warily, his smile vanishing.

“Blinking,” Shallan responded, matter-of-fact. Then she sent Kaladin a smile that was a near-perfect image to his own. 

Syl spent the rest of the afternoon practicing Kaladin’s smile on his shoulder. 

[sayijo]

hhhhhhhhh

uhhh, click/tap on it for better quality, i guess

[theparadoxicalfox]

a little work in progress sketch :D trying to draw just a little every day!

[justifi-cation]

sounds good to me

[theparadoxicalfox]

Masks can reveal just as much as they hide.

[theparadoxicalfox]

@angstphilosophy i heard you needed the King with his squirrels, so i learned how to draw squirrels just for you~

haha ignore the lack of shading and all that, this wasn’t even supposed to get past the messy sketch stage