#I remember being at This EXACT POINT a few months ago

[threewaysdivided]

Genuinely, this. As someone who hit major burnout last year because I also tried to double-book all my free time with chores and "adulting" while also working an under-resourced, overloaded, administratively broken job with an undermining, unsupportive boss (which thankfully is over now, but certainly played its part in contributing to the problem), not making space for rest and media is going to cook your brain.

I get the guilt thing, really, I do. A huge part of why I basically didn't touch my game console at all (or even sit down to watch TV unless a friend made me) was that I felt like I had to be maximally productive every minute of the day. It can get genuinely paralyzing, thinking about all the stuff that would be "a better use of your time" or outstanding chores/ projects. Can't sew because you really should to the ironing first, can't iron because that means setting up the board when the floors need cleaning, can't clean the floors because you need to cook and that's going to make them dirty, can't cook because you really need to water the plants first... this kind of guilt-spiral will push literally everything out, and god forbid you want to do something "unproductively fun" like game or watch TV or write your fic. It's like gas; it will expand to fill any space you let it get into.

Thing is though, decompression is important. Rest is important. Your brain needs the break.

You can't work/housework until you drop, then go to bed with a notebook and try to write fic while falling asleep. I know: I've tried it. Doing this shit completely atrophied my creative side until I ended up not being able to write anything I was happy with and spending more time being compulsively annoyed at terrible sequels to a thing I liked than thinking about my projects or the things I actually enjoyed. Don't be like me, kids!

But that's not really gonna get rid of the guilt. So here's some stuff that helped me:

It's okay if stuff doesn't always get done on time. Some of the chores need to get done eventually, but a lot of stuff can be delayed or broken down into smaller bits. Half-assed is better than no-assed. You can live with stuff not being perfect. Your laundry hamper will not summon the apocalypse. Can't clean the whole house? Fine: just take out the bins, and maybe mop the kitchen floor if it's getting gross. Can't iron? rewash the clothes that don't need it, you can wear them until then. Can't cook? It's okay to order in sometimes, or pickup go-meals from the store or have toast for dinner.

It's okay to let some stuff go for a while. I bought fabric for pants in late 2021 - I didn't sew those pants until late 2022. It's fine. Some things pick their own hour and their own season. It gets done when it gets done.

Fan-stuff is a Hobby. Don't get hung up on "output" or "engagement". This has been a big one for me too. I take ages to update my own long-fic and last year I ended up putting tonnes of pressure on myself to always be drafting, always respond to comments; being compulsively on tumblr hoping people would ask me things and then feeling like I needed to stay up 'til 2am answering them when they did. I was chasing connection because I felt miserable and ended up making that connection another thing to stress over. Not healthy. Fandom is a more collaborative hobby, but it's still a hobby - if writing or posting is stressing you out then put it down like you would any other hobby. You do not need to get a "good grade" in it.

You need to rest and take breaks for your health, so schedule it in. Make it part of whatever list system or chores roster you keep. (Also, if you have a schedule, remember to include the incidental stuff you do that your brain might be tempted to gloss over as "not work". If you're feeling this much pressure then you're probably doing a lot of routine work that you take for granted.) Here's the one I ended up sticking to my wall:

(Notice how I've got reading time actively booked in there, as well as a bunch of things that are tiny but that add up to a fair bit of time and feel good to tick off. I laminated mine so I could actually tick them off with marker and remind myself how much I'd done.)

Seriously, if you're this overbooked, block in your rest and fun time. Block in 30 minutes when you get off work where you can go "okay, I can game now, this is my game time, I don't need to do anything except game for the next 30 minutes", or some time during the week to catch a show or see a movie or read a book.

And look, you're still probably going to feel guilty about it when you first try to make change. If you've been locked into the "if you're not working on something you're wasting time" mindset, it can take a while to unlearn. That's just something you'll need to stick out until your brain gets used to the new paradigm.

You're a human being; basically an ape with higher fine motor skills and enough intelligence to give yourself anxiety. Your body needs sleep. Your brain needs to disengage. These aren't optional: they're biological requirements.

Don't punish yourself for being stressed by denying yourself the things that help you de-stress. It won't help.

And more to the point, you deserve better 💚

i literally cant remember the last time i played a video game and i've been wanting to SO BADLY LATELY but i have so little free time these days that if i don't spend the free time i have working on my fic i feel guilty bc it's still on hiatus after two months (and i keep receiving comments reminding me abt it.) HOW do u get past the guilt

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — duck (nrk)

pairing. idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader synopsis. you want a sonny angel hipper genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1947 notes. ft. enhypen library.

ever since your friend showed you her sonny angel hipper on the back of her phone you knew you needed one.

it had been about a month ago when you had set your eyes and manifestations toward getting the duck baby for your phone.

specifically, because the duck reminded you of your boyfriend, riki.

riki being an idol, garnered him a representative animal. amongst a few others, the duck stood out the most.

you thought it was the most accurate and adorable animal they could have chosen for him. he looked exactly like a duck to you.

you had even told his members that he resembled a duck before being told it was his emoji.

he reluctantly told you all of his self-revised profile after a while of dating.

when you had first met riki you accidentally bumped into him while trying to get the sonny angel furthest from the front of the display. convinced that by some miracle a sonny angel would be hiding amongst the smiskis.

defeated you had stood up and accidentally bumped right into riki.

you stared up at the tall figure clad in a hat and mask apologizing. until your eyes landed on the small box in his hand. the only baby you had seen all day.

“where did you get that from?” you asked curiously, looking up at him.

“oh um i’m holding it for my friend,” he coughed. “it was the last one.” pointing towards another boy with a mask and sunglasses on in the corner.

“oh.” you frowned, looking back over at the shelf.

your older sister had texted you saying she was on her way back to pick you up from downtown and you were sad again leaving the store. as you came every week in hopes of getting another baby.

you had plenty of regular sonny angels but you hadn’t been able to find any marine series ones. you had been coming for a whole month straight but every time the store employees had apologized for being sold out.

he saw how sad you were and decided sunoo could always get another one. he had to buy it for you.

you had walked off to look around the store.

riki was scared you were about to leave so he quickly rushed to the cashier and bought the toy baby. he asked the employee for a pen. he quickly wrote his number on the receipt and ran after you.

nearly stepping out of the exit you were stopped by riki with a shopping bag.

“i got this for you!” he huffed, catching his breath. how did you walk so fast?

surprised and confused you took the bag from his hands and opened it.

riki watched your eyes widen and your lips break into a smile.

you opened the blind box and ended up getting the exact one you wanted, the penguin. you jumped up and down excitedly for a couple of seconds before remembering you were celebrating in front of a stranger. a cute stranger.

“oh my gosh thank you thank you thank you!!” you exclaimed. “this was the exact one i’ve been hoping for oh my gosh!!”

“it’s no problem really,” he chuckled. “you looked so sad and i didn’t want to see a cute girl leave empty-handed.”

you could feel your cheeks heat up but thank god for your full coverage foundation.

“thank you so much..?”

“riki. i’m riki nice to meet you.”

“i’m ____!”

then looking back at your new sonny angel and bringing him up to your eye level.

“i guess his name will also be riki since you got me the penguin i’ve been hoping for!” you said giggling, turning the baby around to show him your new toy named after him.

“how can i repay you?” you asked.

“it’s nothing! but my number is written on the receipt if you ever need someone to buy you another one.” he winked at you.

you swore you were dreaming.

you two stared at each other for a couple of seconds but then were interrupted by the honk of a car. which when turning around happened to be your sister parked on the side waiting for you.

“thank you so much again riki!”

“text me when you get home.”

then in the blink of an eye, you were driving away with your sister. not forgetting to wave at riki who watched from the doors of the store.

you let out a laugh when you saw his friend come up from behind him with an angry look on his face.

the rest is history.

it was around 11 am and you were now desperately trying to shake riki awake. you needed to buy a sonny angel hipper like your friend and needed him to come with you. it was not like you couldn’t go alone but you hated driving alone.

“ki wake up plz!!” you sighed, rolling over him a bunch of times like you were a human-sized lint roller.

which you were then stopped by a long arm locking around you, preventing you from moving.

“just go back to sleep baby,” he mumbled, moving you next to him and burying his face in your neck.

“but i need to buy a sonny angel hipper!” you exclaimed, squirming around.

“why don’t you just buy one online ____?”

“because!! i want the duck one and having you there ups my chances of getting the duck because you're a duck.” you complained.

“can we go later? i’m still sleepy..” he yawned, tightening his grip on you.

you shot up and went to the bathroom to get ready. you were going to get him to get up now no matter what.

“you know, i could always go with sunghoon! maybe i’ll get the penguin and name it after him!” you yelled from the bathroom.

the mere mention of his hyung’s name made him shoot out of bed and head straight to his closet to get dressed.

he heard you squeal in victory and laughed to himself.

in 20 minutes you were finishing your makeup while riki stood behind you doing your hair. he had already dried it for you and was now contemplating which hairclips he should add to match your outfit.

you applied some lip balm and then grabbed riki’s arm to put some on him since his lips were awfully dry and you both set out for the kitchen.

you were met with the smell of pancakes made by jay waiting for you at the table.

two plates next to each other, you however having waffles instead of pancakes since jay always remembered that you liked them better than pancakes.

“so where are you two off to?” asked jungwon, as he took a sip of his drink.

“i want to buy a new sonny angel!” you told the table. “it’s going to look just like riki!”

“so you’re getting the duck one?” said sunghoon, to which you nodded.

“oh can i come??” jake spoke.

“oh well it’s a date-”

“no.” the other 6 answered for you.

“worth a try..” jake sulked, taking a sad bite out of his chocolate chip pancake.

“make sure to cover up, are you taking the train?” jay advised.

“what no! i can drive remember!” you reminded them.

you had had your driver's license in the states for about 2 years now and now have your license here. when you first met riki you were visiting your sister for the summer as she decided to study abroad. you and riki did some long distance for about a year until you moved and followed in your sister's footsteps.

“riki’s your passenger princess.” jake quipped, causing the other members to laugh.

“none of you can drive anyways, what if someone were to try and chase your van but the driver wasn’t there to start the vehicle? you are all doomed.”

“it’s ok ____ you would save us!” said sunoo.

“no i’d save riki.” you replied, earning some joking eye rolls and a chorus of ‘boos’.

you and riki finished eating and brought your plates to the sink. riki made sure to grab 2 masks for the both of you and some sunglasses for himself. then you were off.

you parked the car in the closest parking spot you could find next to the store you and riki met at. he’d paid for parking before you could and then you both quickly crossed the street and walked inside.

making a beeline to the wall of blind boxes, you and riki got to searching. high and low in every section of the store to see if someone’s mom had said no and a kid was forced to put it back. but no luck. just like the first time you met, no luck.

you sighed and riki dragged you to the nearby café to buy you some cake to cheer you up.

on the drive home riki fed you spoonfuls of the cake since it was getting late and driving at night was not your favorite.

once you entered the doors you went straight to riki’s room to mope and rot in his bed. you really wanted the duck so you could have something on your phone to match the riki polaroid in it.

riki followed shortly after, after greeting his members and putting the leftovers you guys had brought home in the fridge.

you felt the bed dip next to you and you turned around to see riki. by nature you rolled on top of him, resting your head on his chest.

it wasn’t that late, but the sunsetting had made you feel the need for a nap.

riki ran his fingers through your hair, humming, and lulling you to sleep.

once he was sure you were asleep he reached to unplug his phone from his bedside table. he started to search the internet for the duck hipper you had been so determined to get.

he scrolled for 20 minutes trying to find the cheapest one on ebay and eventually settled on one going for 20 dollars.

he quickly paid and then he fell asleep.

a couple of days later it arrived and now it was riki’s turn to forcefully wake you up. you woke up but didn’t budge, resulting in riki having to carry you to the living room couch while he opened the box addressed to him.

once he had cut all the tape he placed the box on the coffee table, sitting down next to you and moving you to sit in his lap.

“____,” he called softly. “it’s for you.”

you rubbed your eyes and picked up the small box. pulling the top back to reveal the duck sonny angel you had been wanting.

your eyes shot open, feeling wide awake now. you threw your arms around riki’s neck and thanked him continuously, kissing both of his cheeks in the process.

running back to his room to retrieve your phone, he used that time to throw the box in the garbage.

you came back with the new duck hat baby-clad attached to the top of your phone. being way too hyper and running back to your boyfriend you bumped into heeseung.

“hee! look i finally got my riki sonny angel!” you said waving the figure around in his face.

“wow, looks just like him,” he said, patting your head and passing you to go to the fridge.

you went back to the couch to sit next to riki and grabbed his phone. you made him pose with your phone case and photocard in a point-five photo. which you then changed to your lock screen.

riki giggled at your phone being strictly him-themed and brought you into a quick kiss.

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

My take on stalker!Tim:

Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.

Batman: Photography?

Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.

Batman: At midnight?

Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.

Batman: What were they taking pictures of?

Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?

Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…

Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.

Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.

Robin!Jason: You just missed him.

Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.

Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.

Tim: Well, I like photography, and…

Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.

Tim: The what now?

Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.

Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?

Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.

So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.

Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?

Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…

Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!

Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?

Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?

Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.

Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?

Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.

They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.

Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.

Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”

[izvmimi]

cw: breakup mention. alcohol use. hurt/comfort.

When Katsuki shows up to the exact location you provided him, just minutes after you’d called him out of the blue at 3 am, not even the excuse of being under the influence available to you given the three pathetic sips you’ve had of the can of beer in your right hand, you realize you hadn’t exactly thought this far.

You hadn’t expected him to pick up, and you hadn’t intended on leaving a message. Not from a number he couldn’t possibly know given you’d changed it about two years ago, and definitely not from you, not after the way you’d severed ties with him abruptly and mercilessly. 

In his opinion.

… Okay, perhaps yours, too.

You had expected the half-groggy, half-livid way he’d answered, the hothead in him not immune to a call that would annoy literally anyone with a modicum of sense, but you hadn’t expected his voice to so immediately soften at the sound of yours, to recognize you so readily even.

And now watching him touch down from the sky to where you sit on a park bench, just several feet away from a 24 hour convenience store, you realize you’re not sure what to say.

Still, you’re happy to see him. Enough so, that for a moment, you blink back tears in your eyes, precluding you from seeing how uncharacteristically gentle his red ones are. 

He tries to play it cool, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark gray sweatpants, a slight hunch in his back accentuated by the snug fit of a black hoodie. A skull insignia covers the front, and you wonder if he’ll ever grow up. 

That was one of your points of contention when you were once an item. Growing up. 

“Hey.”

Katsuki is careful; reticent in his speech as he moves towards you, and you can see him ponder before he takes a seat by your side. You clutch the can of beer in your hand a little tighter, resting your arm upon the knees you’ve folded and raised onto the seat of the park bench. His posture is still closed, hands in his pockets, and he stares straight ahead. He lets out a sigh.

“Why’d you call? Get dumped or something?”

You scoff as you say, “yes.”

Katsuki did not actually expect you to say that and turns to look at you, which has you amused, if only for a second. You’re not drunk, but you sure are acting it, you think, but perhaps madness from your bout of depression is really settling in.

“Months ago, though,” you add. You take another sip of your beer, and he watches you wince. He knows you’re not actually a fan of it at all, and plus there’s nothing intelligent or safe about drinking in the middle of the night without a companion, without a definite way home. 

He remembers he actually doesn't know where your home is these days.

“Why did you need to see me?��� he asks firmly now, his eyes still focused on the can because he’s afraid of looking at your face and letting old love resurface.

You smile and look at him, resting your head on your knees.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” you admit.

“You called.”

In another world, he’d then roll his eyes at you, but tonight he looks at you steadily and seriously. Perhaps he's the one who has matured, and you haven’t. He remains your longtime crush and your longtime crutch, even now, as you feel yourself lose your grip on sanity, embracing madness, regardless of how transient it might be.

It’s quiet for a few more moments, save for the rustling of leaves as the winds of the witching hour pick up between you, and you let out a soft sigh, realizing he won’t say anything else to fill the silence. Letting your feet fall flat to the ground, you shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought of you,” you admit. 

Katsuki’s eyes slide away from you quickly, his fingers curling around the edge of the seat at his sides, as if bracing himself.

“It’s been years,” he reminds you. You nod, without looking at him.

“My heart remembers.”

It’s cheesy and he doesn’t mock you for it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I see.”

You’re suddenly embarrassed, face warmed from toes to nose. He sees. What does he see? That you’re pathetic? That you’re needy? That perhaps you were wrong all these years and even if he’s flown back to see you, you’re the one crawling back to him? 

You remain in disquiet now, your arms wrapping around yourself for support. You can hear it now -  If you wanted someone to pat your ass, should have called damn Deku or Kirishima. I’m not a goddamn booty call. You lost your chance with me ages ago. Don’t fucking call me again.

Instead, he takes the can of beer you’ve set beside you and takes a sip first, then downs it as you watch. Just as soon as he’s done, he crushes the can and throws it into the nearest recycling bin. 

He doesn't miss.

“You’re not an alcoholic. No use pretending to drown your sorrows,” he says. “Either talk about them or don’t. I’m already up anyway.”

It’s not meant to be a joke or a jab, just a statement. 

You’re surprised for a moment but an unwitting smile comes to your lips.

“Are you sure you want to hear me complain in the middle of the night? I have a lot to say.”

Katsuki gives you a look, a raised eyebrow reminding you not to ask any more silly questions, and it almost makes you laugh.

As if you intend to be considerate now of all times.

“Well, it all began with the day I was born…”

He lets out the softest of groans and lets his head hang back in a dramatic fashion, arms still crossed over his chest, and legs spread. This time your laugh is loud.

It’s unfair and unreasonable that he still makes you laugh without trying.

And yet he does anyway, and he listens to you speak until the sun comes up.

[azrielstaylorsversion]

To remember

Azriel x reader | angst

Warnings: death, grieve, murder

When Feyre asks Azriel about a certain ring around his finger, the whole room turns quiet. But none of his family members expect him to reply to the question.

Coming home to my family gathered in the living room of the River House was always going to be my favorite thing.

The last week hadn't been a particular easy one, but I had managed to live through it, like I always would.

Cassian passed me a glass of wine, telling me that I needed it. I knew he meant it as a joke, but his sympathetic smile told me enough.

We didn't really speak about it anymore, since it had been decades. None of us did. But the weight of the ring around my finger of my left hand weighed more than usual this week.

I felt Feyre's eyes on me. When I looked at her she smiled, but I soon noticed that her eyes weren't on my face. No, they were on my hand. My left hand.

She was probably just looking at my scars. Most people did. It did bother me a bit, but with my family it was different.

"Azriel, can I ask you something?" Feyre asked. The entire room turned quiet, everyone's attention on me and Feyre.

"Of course." I answered, even though I was not sure I wanted to answer it.

"I keep noticing the ring on your left hand. You seem to play with it a lot. What does it stand for?"

If the room could've turned even more quiet than before, it would.

Feyre looked around in confusion. "Oh sorry, I-..." Rhys put a hand on her arm.

"Feyre, I don't think-"

"No, it's okay." I cut him off. Rhys looked at me.

You don't have to talk about it. He spoke into my mind.

I gave him a tight mouthed smile. I would rather tell her the story myself. She deserves to know about her.

I knew that I wasn't the only one having a hard time with telling this story. Mor had lost her best friend. Cassian and Rhys had lost their best friend. Even Amren had lost a friend that day, if she could even have friends.

And I lost a mate that day.

Feyre looked at me with curiosity, waiting for me to start talking.

"It belongs-.. belonged to my mate." I told her, my eyes on the beautiful ring.

It was gold with a blue stone inside of it. The color of my siphons, like she had requested.

"I'm sorry." Feyre said quietly.

I gave her a sad smile. "I had it altered so it would fit around my finger. I have my own matching one in my room."

Feyre hesitated before speaking. "When did she... pass away?"

"Around 50 years ago." I answered. "51 years to be exact. Just a few weeks before Rhys went Under the Mountain."

"How long were you two together for?" she asked.

I twisted the ring around my finger, smiling to myself. "For a long time. Close to a century." I thought I might go crazy at some point after losing her while having been together for such a long time. But I didn't eventually.

The first few years were super hard. Even harder since I had lost my mate and brother within the span of a few weeks. I remember Cassian and Mor being helpless all the time, not knowing how to help me from going mad.

I blocked everyone out. I didn't talk or sleep for months.

Eventually I got the courage to go into our old room in the Town House, where we would stay most of the time. I found her ring there. The ring she had purposely left there the day she was killed. She had left it there for me along with a note, telling me that she knew she was going to die. That she wanted me to live a happy life.

Something changed after that day. I immediately took the ring to a jeweler who made it fit my finger so I was able to carry a piece of her with me at all time.

I was able to talk again. To sleep, even though the nightmares haunted me.

"What was she like?" Feyre questioned softly.

I had to keep myself from smiling again. "She was the best. She was kind, smart, hardworking, and always selfless." I told her, adding a sad smile at the end.

The rest of my family smiled at the memory of her.

"The selfless part was one of her best qualities, but also the one that..." I hesitated before speaking. But I wanted to tell Feyre. "That got her killed."

Everyone around the room stiffened, but I decided to continue. Maybe it was time I would say something about it. To tell her story.

"She volunteered to go on a mission for us. To check out the next plans of Hybern. Of Amarantha. She knew that there was going to be a possibility of dying from the moment she volunteered, but decided it was best to not tell us." I started. "She knew that if I knew about it, if Rhys knew about it, we would offer to go ourselfs. But still she decided to go. When the bond closed off I got so worried. At one point I stopped feeling her."

"We got a message from the Hewn City the next day that there had been a body found on their doorsteps. We immediately went to look." I swallowed hard. "I will never forget what I saw." I decided to spare Feyre the details.

I had to blink back the tears at remembering the memories of all those yours ago.

"I'm sorry that happened to you Azriel." Feyre spoke softly.

I sniffed. "Not only to me. She was important to all of us. To many people in this court." I said. "She would've loved you." I smiled at Feyre.

Feyre's face lit up at my words.

Rhys raised his glass. "To our beloved friend." Everyone raised their glasses.

The rest of the night was spent talking about her. Everyone shared their favorite stories about her.

It was late when I finally retreated to my room again. My mind kept wandering to her. I kept twisting the ring around my finger until the weight of sleep took over.

I could've sworn I saw a star shine extra brightly into my room.

[lightningonatether]

Why c!endersmile were actually friends

ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: my crazy thesis on two bad bitches with not a single moment of screentime fueled purely by my own insanity

ALTERNATIVELY alternatively titled: to all loreheads please be nice i dont usually lorepost. feel free to engage though

So my return is courtesy of litchi, who mentioned c!endersmile like once a month ago, and got me thinking about them so hard I couldn't just walk away.

Namely, litchi reminded me of a few theories I have concerning c!endersmiles relationship, that I developed back when i was watching the SMP live. This might make my recollection of some events a little fuzzy, but everything should be canon compliant cause I was thinking about all this as I watched.

I was already watching ranboo pretty regularly at the point the prison arc started, I cant resist a really weird guy with horrible debilitating anxiety. I already thought the whole hearing dreams voice in his head was really interesting, but as the prison arc evolved it became clear that ranboos relationship with dream wasnt just some hallucination inside ranboos head and actually had some substance.

My theory really started to develop into what it is now with the explosions on the prison roof which led to the lockdown and tommys death; these were confirmed to be set by ranboo in his enderwalk state. He was one of the only people online at the time, ranboo found tnt in his inventory afterwards, and I think dream also told sam he knew ranboo did it at some point, although I can't find the exact stream.

At that point it was obvious that enderwalking ranboo held a different set of beliefs, alliances, and likely more memories than the "awake" ranboo we saw most of the time on streams, and was acting against amnesiac ranboos wishes. The explosions above the prison along with the reveal that ranboo had been regularly visiting dream in prison confirmed that dream and ender!ranboo were some sort of allies.

At the time, my assumption was that ranboo had simply made an attempted prison break. It wouldnt be a stretch to assume, if ranboo had visited regularly, that he would have noticed the poor conditions and tried to break his ally out. However, after the confirmation of the staged finale, and a better look at cdreams motivations(wanting to provide protection for punz, separating himself very publicly from his only known ally to keep them safe) the idea that enderwalk ranboo, an ally of dreams, would go against dreams explicit wishes to stay locked in that prison began making less sense.

It would only make sense if either:

enderwalk never knew about the plan or

enderwalk knew about the plan but went against it anyway

1 is a very tempting explanation. c!dream rarely lets anyone close. even punz, who knew the plan intimately, wasn't aware of dreams true motivations to bring the server back to a peaceful time before conflict. but..... it didnt sit right with me.

Two reasons for this: I know some people may have stopped watching/never watched ranboo lore, but towards the end of the prison arc, ranboo began seeing flashes of "lessons" appear on screen. These lessons all had that utilitarian and paranoid feel a lot of dreams actions/reasoning have, like "dont trust anybody"(paraphrasing, thats just what i remember the core of that message being) or "never hesitate to gain a favor from someone, you can use it to get something from them later". anyone remember technos favor to dream? It was heavily implied these lessons were meant to be from dream, directed at c!enderwalk. This would mean the two spent a significant amount of time together. not only that, dream was sharing his *life philosophy* with ender!ranboo. thats not just something dream would share with anyone, and implies a close allyship at the least. its almost like he was teaching a pupil. yeah, sure, some of his lessons were a little fucked up and weird in that dream sort of way, but he was looking out for the kid. and it seems that enderwalk wasnt hesitant to act on those lessons either. he promised to keep a shulker safe for foolish, gaining a favor, and didnt sign a single one of those prison visitation waivers, on top of sam discovering they were corrupted into enderian when he checked LMAO.

This alone would be enough to persuade me enderwalk HAD to have been let in on the plan, at least so he wouldnt cause any problems (such as trying to get his ally out of prison).

but the other reason is... ranboos stated philosophy against conflict. he doesnt like sides, he wishes they wouldn't exist. I remember watching a stream and nearly jumping out of my seat when he told chat he just wished the server could just be one big happy family! because that is nearly word for word what a bunch of loreheads were saying about dreams motivations at the time(and now obviously lmao). if we keep in mind their contact for those "lessons", ranboos visits to dream in prison, AND the fact that dreams and ranboos motivations coincide on a level even Above dream and punzs(punz seemed to have been unaware of and also not particularly motivated by dreams wish for peace) i cant really imagine dream not letting this guy in on the plan.

which leaves us with 2) ranboo tried to break dream out against dreams wishes.

Maybe ranboo was just an ally and chickened out after he saw dreams mistreatment in prison and went against the plan, but... dream missed him after sam barred him from visiting. he asked sapnap to deliver a note to ranboo(just a smiley face, likely with the hopes of triggering an enderwalk) despite fearing for his ally punz enough to lock himself in prison. it feels reminicent to how dream sounds when he comments on george not visiting him once. like he missed a friend despite trying so hard to separate himself from the ones he'd had.

Maybe ranboo tried to break in because he saw a friend being mistreated, and couldn't leave the plan stand.

And that kind of makes sense doesn't it? that dream, someone whos paranoid about how peoples connection to him puts them in danger, would choose an amnesiac who spends most of their time terrified of dream, and wouldnt remember any of his plans or their friendship to use against either of them in the first place?

[darylbae]

Pls could you write daryl dixon x fem!reader at the kingdom? carol and ezekiel took in a worn out and struggling woman and have been helping her get back on her feet. daryl comes along and teaches her to hunt and maybe r lost some memory but got a bit back when she shot her first animal w daryl maybe she’s actually a vvv good hunter

crack shot — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you find the kingdom, and an archer who's willing to train you.

note: love this, going to make a lil drabble of this.

You'd been alone for a long time. You'd survived with your stealth and trusty knives, but it was getting harder. Your backpack of supplies were low, you hadn't found a proper place to settle down, and you'd recently injured yourself trying to hide from a horde of walkers. Until you'd been found passed out from blood loss sat on a branch in a tree. A man, who spoke as if he'd been pulled from a fantasy book, and a woman, who seemed the exact opposite of him. And yet they worked together well enough to get you back to wherever it is they call home. The Kingdom.

That was almost a month ago. You'd spent a long while recovering, getting to know the Kingdom and it's people, and helping out with your very minimal mobility. Turns out your injury had been worse than you or anyone had thought. When Carol, the woman who found you, had sat at your bedside to question you, you appeared to have lost any knowledge of what's happened. Memories muddle into one, not being clear enough to decipher. You'd forgotten a lot of your life before this, but you assumed that was because the world had changed so drastically. You remembered some long-term things, like family members you had, what was happening in the world at this point in time, and where you were born, but everything else had fallen short. It was time to start building you back up. Carol would visit you a lot, bringing you things to eat, taking you around on walks to show you how things are going, and today she had other ideas in mind. "So," Carol sighed, sitting next to your bed once again, "I think you've recovered enough to start doing something. I've asked a friend to train you in dealing with walkers. Just to make sure you can defend yourself still." You nodded, finishing lacing up your boots and getting out of bed. "Who? Jerry? Because I love Jerry." Carol laughed. "No, an old friend of mine offered to help actually. He's waiting outside."

Carol had taken you outside, and stood in front of the both of you, was God himself. Everything you'd liked in a man, he was here. But you pushed those thoughts to the back of your brain, focusing on learning. "This is Daryl," Carol introduced him, and he held the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder, giving you a quick look up and down, and a nod. "He's going to take you hunting today."

The two of you had left the Kingdom, quietly walking towards the woods. "Carol said you forgot everythin'," he mumbled, his voice gruff but it pushed a few buttons for you, "that sucks." "Yeah. It's a strange feeling. I don't really remember much except the family I had, and how the world turned out like this." You explained. "So you're a hunter?" He nodded. "I'm good at it. Been doin' it all my life." "Well I hope I catch a good deer or something for Carol and Ezekiel."

It had been a long, slow day. You'd spent a long time just walking through the woods silently, trying not to scare any wildlife away. With the occasional "come 'ere" from Daryl. But you'd finally found a deer; stood gracefully between two trees, sniffing at the ground. Daryl raised his crossbow, explaining how to use it. "Wait," you exclaimed in a whisper, "can I do it?" Daryl handed you his crossbow, and before he'd opened his mouth about how to hold it, you'd fired the arrow and it landed perfectly into the deer, killing it in the most humane way. He was in shock, analyzing your features for any signs of shock. "You done this before?" He asked, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder again before following you towards the deer. "Maybe? I don't know. It just felt natural to me." You answered, and he was still reeling from how impressed he was. "Have to take you huntin' with me all the time now, crack shot."

[python333]

déjà vu — python333

— — — —

synopsis you and ghost are more similar than the two of you realized.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 2.88k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [call sign/code name], ghost's backstory [yes that is a warning within itself], kind of badly written.

note holy shitttttt i'm so sorry i haven't posted in two months. to everyone who is disappointed this isn't a req they submitted—i am very sorry but i have like. no motivation. please take this small fic as a peace offering after being silent for two months. also yes i said alej fic but i only had motivation to write for ghost LMAO

“So…” Ghost can hear Price next to him, creating an echo as he speaks through his earpiece, “Doesn’t it get hot, always wearing that mask?” 

“Not when it’s made of the right materials,” Your voice crackles through, the wind blowing by slightly distorting your voice, “It’s also winter, captain, so no, it doesn’t get hot.” 

The corners of Ghost’s lips twitch upwards when you answer, but he otherwise doesn’t say or do anything, simply leaning against the wall parallel to Price. For you, maybe your mask doesn’t get hot, but his certainly does—though, he doesn’t voice that, simply listening. 

“Oh really?” Price hums, looking around the corner of the wall he’s leaned up against, spotting a few enemy soldiers walking by without a clue of who they’re in the presence of, “What’s yours made of, then?” 

“Polyester,” You answer. 

From what Ghost understands, you wear a mask for the same reason as him—anonymity. As much as he can respect that and understand the want to remain anonymous, he can’t help but wonder why you would want that. Is it for reasons similar to why he wears his? Have you gone through things similar to what he’s gone through? Did a fellow SAS soldier also murder your entire family and attempt to pin it on you, to which you responded by killing him, stealing his dog tags, and burning your own house down? He had many questions, but didn’t ask any. 

He doesn’t think you’d answer them, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t. He’d maybe try to divert the conversation with a bad dad joke, or simply not dignify the question with a response, anything but an actual answer. He strangely expects the same of you. 

He vaguely remembers a conversation he had with Price when you first joined maybe two months ago, specifically a comment Price had made about your file; “I had the same conversation with Laswell about their file that I did when I first got yours. She said the same thing when she saw their file, too, word for word.”

It turned out that they had the exact same exchange that they did when they saw Ghost’s file, verbatim. Laswell had pointed out that you had no picture, and Price said, “Never.” Ever since then, Ghost has felt an inexplicable connection to you, despite not having talked to you that much. 

He’ll admit, he tried to initiate a conversation with you more often than he did with the others when he first met them. Maybe one or two times a day, he’d find you and make small talk, something that made his skin crawl with discomfort but something he still forced himself to do, just to try and make sense of the invisible line that seemed to tie you both together. 

This small talk started off as anything from a question about the weather—yes, Ghost asked about the weather, unfortunately for the both of you considering how awkward and stilted that short conversation was—to asking about training and skills. He didn’t normally initiate conversations with anyone else, he was typically the one that was walked up to and barely even had to carry any conversations he was in. 

Every conversation the two of you had always ended the same way, though; with you cutting it short the moment it got anywhere near your personal life, or even just your life outside of being a part of the 141, and walking off elsewhere. Ghost could see the tiniest bit of himself in you everytime you did that, and an annoying voice in the back of his mind always asked, Was I always that much of a hardass? … Am I that much of a hardass?

“Ghost,” Price’s voice snaps Ghost out of his train of thought and he grunts, looking over at Price. The man in question nods his head towards the now clear path to the building they needed to get into, and Ghost nodded back, taking his SMG out of the sling and moving out of the small alleyway they’d camped in, following after Price. 

They quickly rush over to the building, the doors thankfully unlocked and the soldiers guarding it stupid enough to not be right beside the front doors, and lock the doors behind them once they’re in. 

“Are you guys in?” You ask, the wind no longer distorting your voice, the background of your audio now relatively silent except for your faint breathing. 

“Yeah,” Price replies, the darkness of the building making him squint as he scans the walls for some sort of light switch, “Anyone notice we got in?”

“Not that I can see, no,” You answer, your sigh audible through the comms, “They’re pretty far from the building, actually.” 

“Perfect,” Price hums, patting his hand along the wall for a moment before finding a large lever. He hesitates to pull it, and ultimately decides against it, deeming it too risky. Instead, he searches his tactical vest and goes through a few large pockets that sit around his lower midriff before finding a relatively small flashlight. 

He presses the button on the end of the handle with a small click, and the flashlight flickers for a moment before the light becomes consistent and a small buzz begins to sound. Price looks around for a second, scanning the area for any immediate threats, and motions for Ghost to follow him. 

“See anything?” You ask curiously, some rustling heard on your end. Ghost looks around for a second, footsteps echoing eerily through the building. 

“Nothing important,” He replies, voice quiet, “Just dust and old furniture.” 

“His office is just down there,” Price interjects, nodding towards the hall to their left, making Ghost look in that same direction, “I’ll head down there, you stay here, let me know if anyone’s coming.” 

The echo from Price talking to Ghost both through comms and being right beside him, as well as the echo from being in such a large room, starts to irritate Ghost. He rolls his shoulders and puts his gun back in the sling, looking back at Price.

“Turn off your comms,” His suggestion sounds more like a command, but he’s sure Price understands it’s more of a request than anything else, “You’re echoing. If anything happens, I can just talk to you without them.” 

Price pauses before nodding, and pressing the small button on his earpiece to turn off his mic, and the piece entirely. He trusts Ghost wholeheartedly, and it shows. He takes one last look around before walking towards the office he pointed out. 

The office belonged to the man who had stolen vital intel from the 141—not intelligence on the task force itself, but rather a separate team that had recently allied themselves with the task force. They couldn’t risk that data being taken, as it would not only expose the other team, but several other similar teams and task forces. 

Ghost waits until Price is actually in the hall before speaking again, “You still there, [c/n]?” 

“Yeah,” You answer almost immediately, “Need something?” 

“No,” Ghost hums, leaning against the wall behind him, “Just wanted to talk.” 

“Please don’t ask me about the weather again,” You sigh, almost exasperated, “Or about how my training is going, or about how my CO is, or—” 

“I’m not,” Ghost interrupts you, not sure whether to laugh or cry at your examples of past conversations. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” He says, before asking, “How long were you apart of the army, before joining here?” 

“Before the 141?” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Sounds kind of personal.” 

“You don’t have to answer,” Ghost offers, voice almost reassuring, “Just curious.” 

“Aren’t you always,” You mutter, a comment Ghost promptly ignores, before you properly answer, “Just a year. Maybe a year and a half.” 

“American army, right?”

“Mhm,” You hum, “Would you believe me if I said we sang Yankee Doodle before going on any missions?”

“Oh, sure I would,” Ghost chuckles, before countering, “Would you believe me if I said that song was made to mock Americans?” 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you believe that,” You say, a lighter lilt to your voice as you do compared to a few moments ago, “But yes, I believe you. I think that almost every American has reclaimed it as one of the most patriotic songs, though.” 

“Almost every American?” Ghost questions, growing more amused as the conversation goes on. It confuses him, making him wonder why he’s so easily drawn into conversations with you, no matter how small or dry. 

“I’m sure there’s some here and there that don’t like it,” You elaborate, “But I haven’t met any. Not yet.” 

“Alright,” Ghost nods even though you can’t see him, before asking another question, “What branch?” 

“The Navy,” You answer, now without questioning Ghost which brings him a strange sense of relief, “I flew planes around and stuff. Didn’t really like it, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ghost sounds more interested now, “Why not?” 

“The soldiers there aren’t the best people to be around,” You hum, the sounds of you moving audible, “One mention of any sort of mental issues, even if it’s just something like feeling anxious or being sleep deprived, and suddenly everyone’s on your ass pressuring you to be better or just… being weird about it. It gets draining after a while.” 

“I bet,” Ghost murmurs, “Is that why you left?” 

“Partially,” You answer honestly, “Half of it was that, the other half was that I just didn’t like flying planes. I was also eighteen and couldn’t really control my impulsive thoughts, so a majority of the time I was fighting myself trying not to crash the plane on purpose.” 

“Makes sense,” Ghost considers what you said for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asks, “Isn’t the enlistment age for the Navy nineteen?” 

“It is,” You assure him, “I was an exception, ‘cause I was a month or two away from turning nineteen.” 

“Hm,” Ghost hums, “And you’re twenty now?” 

“Twenty, almost twenty-one,” You confirm. 

“Did you wear the mask back then?” Ghost asks, praying that the question isn’t too personal to the point where you stop responding. He’s been dying to ask the question, always worrying whether or not it was too personal—it was pretty personal, to be fair, but he wasn’t used to worrying this much over another soldier, much less one he only met two months ago. Sure, you both wore a mask and remained somewhat anonymous, but that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends who braided each other’s hair. 

“...” You don’t respond for a moment, making Ghost’s worry increase, before you reply, “No.”

Your simple answer makes Ghost more curious, and he can’t tell if he should ask why or not. He stays silent for a few seconds, weighing his options, before he ultimately says, “Alright.” 

He tries to leave it up to you whether or not you want to tell him about your own story, of if you’re comfortable with that, which you probably aren’t, considering that—again—the two of you only met a couple months ago.

“Did you wear the mask?” You ask quietly a moment later, catching Ghost off-guard, “Before this?” 

“Before the 141?” He echoes your question from earlier, nodding to himself, “Yeah. For some time before this, I had a different mask, but it was still a mask.” 

“Was the skull always there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“… For just aesthetic purposes, or?” Ghost feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement at your question, and at how genuinely curious you sound. 

“Eh. Not really,” He answers, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He doesn’t say any more than that, not being able to as his mind takes him back to a time a while ago, when he was being held hostage and was in the same room as some kids who heard him spill his entire background to the men holding him hostage. 

He remembers one kid in particular, a little girl with blonde hair, who had listened to every detail that he’d said. When he was telling the story of why he has the call sign Ghost, in hopes of distracting the men so that the 141 could rescue him and the kids, she had clung to every detail and later asked him if what he had said was true, her tone of voice eerily similar to yours. 

He remembers when he was carrying her out of that room, the questions she’d bombarded him with, and how he answered every one with as neutral of an answer he could muster. He debates doing that now with any questions you ask, but decides against it almost instantly—something that shocks him, even though it was his own thought—considering that he wanted to ask you those same questions. Not about your call sign, only about the mask. 

“It’s a long story,” He says after you’ve been silent for a while, your curiosity somehow palpable even through just the comms, “But it has to do with some family members.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, “I know a thing or two about that.” 

“Do you?” Ghost asks, slightly ashamed at the small jolt of excitement he feels at the opportunity of hearing more about you. 

“Mhm,” You pause, staying quiet for a moment, before continuing, “About family members. Dead ones.” 

“Ah,” Ghost nods, the discomfort he originally felt sharing some of his own story starting to melt away, “Dead ones. I understand.” 

“Can’t tell if I should be glad or not,” You snort, “Like, I’m glad you understand, but also sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost grins under his mask, “I was wondering the same thing.” 

“So… dead ones,” You think out loud, before asking, “That’s why you have that call sign and mask?” 

“Yeah,” Ghost looks around for a moment, reminding himself to keep watch while talking to you, before cautiously asking, “Are yours the reason for your mask?” 

“Not really,” You answer honestly, with a little less resistance behind your answer to Ghost’s relief, “Well… I mean, kind of. But they’re not the reason-reason. I didn’t really like them, so I’m not gonna give them all the credit, but I’ll give them… maybe twenty-five percent of it.” 

“A quarter’s still a lot,” Ghost points out, “What’d they do to earn that?” 

“They died, and…” You’re doing more pausing and hesitating now, making Ghost wonder if he’s going to personal every second that you stay quiet, before you finally answer in a more guarded tone, “I almost got blamed for it. Almost.” 

Ghost gets hit with a pang of mixed emotions, like a weird sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. They almost got blamed for it. He lets out a breath that’s slightly shaky, and thinks for a moment before saying, “Almost?” 

“Almost,” You confirm, tone a little less guarded, presumably at Ghost’s more calm reaction, “Then I handled it the best I could, and the guy who killed them got what he deserved.” 

“Which was?” Ghost feels more of that uncomfortable nostalgia bubble up, giving him an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he knows where this conversation is going. 

“Death,” You answer softly, “And the nameplate on his uniform stolen, which I replaced with mine. I would’ve taken his dog tags, but we didn’t really wear them on missions ‘cause our drill sergeant didn’t care too much.” 

Ghost can put a name to the feeling now. Déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and considers your words for a moment. 

“And the body?” His lips move before he can think. 

“Burnt.” You answer simply, “The whole house. It was mainly drywall, so it took a moment to actually completely catch on fire, but it was quick enough. It also smelled disgusting.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Ghost swallows, vividly remembering the smell of his own house, before continuing, “He was a soldier for the Navy, too?” 

“Mhm. He was… a Private, I think,” You reply, “I wasn’t too close with him. I wasn’t with anyone.” 

“And so the reason you wear the mask is…?” 

“I didn’t really exist anymore after that,” You hum, “At least, not to them. I was dead in a burned down house, my own house, and was far gone. I like wearing the mask; it keeps me as just another soldier, not as the person who died in that house.” 

“But you didn’t,” Ghost points out, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that only grows stronger the more you talk, “You’re here.” 

“… Yeah, I am,” You say after a moment of thinking, smile evident in your voice, “Doesn’t mean I can take that back, though. ‘s not the best feeling, doing something like that.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Ghost chuckles, “If anyone here, I’d be the person to know, kid.” 

“Really?” You ask, voice more curious like it was before, “Why’s that?” 

“I’ve… weirdly been through almost everything you said,” Ghost admits, “Word for word with the house burning down, actually.” 

“… Huh,” You huff out a small laugh before saying, “I’m wondering if I should feel happy or sad again.” 

“Me too, again,” Ghost smiles, eyes flickering up at Price’s footsteps sound through the hallway, his silhouette slowly coming into view, “One last question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“How’s the weather?” 

“I’m not answering that, fuck you.”

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

How would you envision Elrond and Elwing's reunion in Valinor 🥺? I can already imagine they would hug for a lonnngggg time to make up for the years of being forcefully separated from each other. Also, Elrond would be ecstatic to know that Celebrian and Elwing (in my head, lol) have bonded and become close to each other.

yesssss i too believe they would hug and cry for a very long time, like they'd just fall into each other's arms <3<3<3 and elrond can finally break down embraced by his mother the way he never had the chance to for literal thousands of years. a tangent, but i don't think elrond ever felt comfortable showing such extreme, uncontrollable vulnerability in front of others -- having been kidnapped as a child by the people who murdered most of his community and as good as forced his mother to suicide, he pretty much came to hide anything that could be perceived as "weakness" for fear of how maedhros and maglor would react to it. and even though he does grow more emotionally healthy once he finds people with whom he can truly have a good relationship, he still finds it difficult to so entirely let down his guard around people. but with elwing -- it's like he's a child again. as soon as he sees his mother's face, the exact same face that he remembers from his memories and his dreams, the exact same face he associates with strength and love and bravery ever since he was young -- everything all comes rushing out. it's like all the tears of pain and fear at her being taken from him are finally flowing after being reined in for millennia.

i can't imagine how utterly cathartic their reunion, at long last, would be to both of them. they wouldn't let go of each other for a while, that's for sure, and they would probably spend hours and hours and hours learning everything they can about each other. i doubt they'd be willing to be apart for at least several days after that. they are going EVERYWHERE together for the next month. joined at the hip. elwing at some point introduces him to all her friends and kin that she's met and connected with since she came to valinor, and elrond finds a litany of relatives who are delighted and proud and awed. lots of teleri especially are so heartened, particularly the ones who knew thingol from before they came west. that's the great-great-grandson of their king's beloved brother. and speaking of thingol -- elwing has already grown close to him since she came to valinor, she and elrond go to visit him together, and thingol cries once again and adopts yet another descendant. tbh he adopts every single descendant of his that sails west. spoils them rotten like they're children even though they're all grown adults who've seen some shit. what do you mean he can't shower them in every single gift that catches his eye or comes to mind. they're his descendants, he can do what he wants!! he will coddle them, and elrond is by no means an exception.

it's also my hc that elwing and celebrian meet when celebrian arrives in valinor! celebrian tells her mother-in-law all about elrond and all about elladan, elrohir, and arwen. elwing adores her daughter-in-law and celebrian is one of the few people who she'll regularly hang out with. they visit each other and everything, elwing is there with her when celebrian meets her telerin relatives (who already all know and love elwing). suffice to say you're right, elrond is absolutely delighted to learn how close his mother and wife have become. they all spend heaps of time with each other -- with earendil, too, when he comes home. it won't take away the injustice of elwing losing so much of her son's life, and elrond losing his mother at such a young age -- but it's good. at last they're the family they couldn't be long ago, and they're all very very happy together

[zoroslost]

Pining!Zoro takes up smoking while away on Gloom island because he misses Sanji and the smoke smells like him.

Zoro recognizes the signs of missing his crew as soon as they're separated. And he feels the pull to be together with his Nakama again as soon as he sees Luffy's declaration in the paper but he doesn't realize that he's feeling the cook's absence differently until he finds Mihawk smoking one day about 3 months into his stay on Gloom Island.

He's not oblivious to the effect the cook has on him. Zoro's known that his feelings for the cook were different from his feelings toward the rest of his nakama since the beginning. He'd recognized that the feelings he had toward the airheaded blonde were romantic since Thriller Bark, when he couldn't stand the thought of the other being gone. He was, however, shocked to realize just how much influence Sanji's presence had on him.

The instant he registered the heavy scent of the cigarette, he felt his body and mind relax as a feeling of warmth washed over him. It smelled like home. He wanted to be surrounded by it. Zoro sank down against the wall and started cleaning his swords to remain in the feeling for just a bit longer.

When Zoro prepared to sleep that night, he was surprised to find the scent had woven itself into his clothes. Not wanting to separate from the smell, he pulled his robe over himself when he laid down. Blanked in the smell, he could almost feel the rocking of the hammocks as he drifted off to the most restful sleep he'd had since he was last on the Sunny.

He feels lighter and more focused when training for the next few weeks, but he can feel that fading away as the heady scent fades from his robe, leaving a hollow chasm in his chest. He thought he'd been doing a decent job of keeping his emotions internal but he's proven wrong when Perona snaps at him while they're all eating silently, "What the hell crawled up your ass and died. I'm already stuck here with you two depressing guys don't make it any worse than it needs to be."

"I'm not doing anything," Zoro growls back at her.

"Yes you are!" she complains, "You're just being all-" she gestures vaguely to the way he's sitting at the table. He raises an eyebrow at her."

"You're morose," Mihawk clarifies unhelpfully.

"Exactly!" she points at him in accusation, "You're sulking! You've been more bearable recently what happened?"

"I'm just tired of being stuck with your annoying ass," he snipes back.

"I'm a fucking joy," the ghost girl shouts at him, before settling down as she ponders. "Anyway, that's not it. Your mood changed abruptly about 2 weeks ago and you've been tolerable. What happened 2 weeks ago..."

"If I remember correctly," Mihawk interjects boredly, "the only thing unusual that happened was that I was smoking." Zoro stiffens, waiting for the girl to put the pieces together.

"You smoke?" she asks with visible confusion. Zoro rolls his eyes. She chews the information over in her mind and can see the exact moment she figures it out, a grin overtaking her face. "You don't have a nicotine addiction, you just like someone that does."

"Shut up," he growls in warning.

Her grin stretches wider, "Oh-ho I was right. There was a smoker on your crew right?"

"Shut up," he repeats, louder this time.

"It's that blonde guy isn't it, the one with the weird eyebrow?"

"Fuck off!" he slams his fist down on the table hard as he stands.

"Hororororo~"

"If it keeps you focused, you can just have some," Mihawk says dryly as he slides a pack of cigarettes and a lighter toward him on the table.

He snatches them up and storms off, ignoring the obnoxious laughter coming through the door behind him.

The cigarettes sit forgotten in Zoro's room for a while before he remembers that he has them.

He doesn’t really like smoking but he takes to carrying around a pack of cigarettes just to light one just to let the scent hang in the air. After a while, he starts taking one or two inhales of the cigarette just to imagine what Sanji tastes like. He hates how pathetic it makes him feel.

He’s not addicted but it becomes a comfort mechanism and he knows he won’t be able to stop the habit once the crew is back together. He also would rather die than admit the reason he started so he has no choice but to keep it secret. Sanji's constant smoking keeps him from engaging in the bad habit for the most part but on the nights he’s alone on watch and feeling lonely, he takes to lighting one and taking a few breaths to

He never intends for anyone to find out but after the cook leaves for Whole Cake, the habit starts up again in full force to the point that everyone notices. No one says anything but he can tell by the way they look at him that they know why the habit started.

Sanji doesn't find out until the celebration of the defeat of Kaido. He must've run out of cigarettes at some point because he complains to the other straw hats that he wishes that he had a damn cigarette.

"Why don't you just ask Zoro for one?" Ussop pipes up and Zoro goes still, silently cursing the other in his head for ignoring the fact that they haven't been bringing it up for a reason damn it.

Sanji's eyes flick to Zoro before settling on Ussop, eyebrow raised in confusion, "Why the hell would the shitty swordsman have any cigarettes? He doesn't smoke."

Ussop must feel the murderous vibes that Zoro is sending his way because he starts sweating nervously and quickly starts to run away, "Whoops, I hear someone calling for me, bye." They both stare after him in silence as he dashes toward the Sunny.

'Fucking idiot aren't you supposed to be a master liar or whatever, cover your ass better than that,' Zoro thinks bitterly. He can feel the cook's eyes on him, 'Fuck!'

"What the hell was that about? You take up smoking to fill the void I left in your heart or something Mosshead?" Sanji teased with a smirk on his face, subconsciously reaching into his pocket for a cigarette before remembering that he didn't have any.

Zoro grounded his teeth together, 'If I don't tell him now and he finds out later he'll bitch about this forever.' Tensely, he pulled the half-empty packet out of his pocket and held it out to the cook without looking at him as he grumbled, "'or something."

The cook didn't move for a few beats, just staring at the swordsman. Zoro could feel his face heating up as he kept his eyes firmly downcast, as he waited for the shitty cook to take them, "Are you gonna take 'em or not shit cook."

His rough tone must've broken Sanji out of his stupor because he jumped slightly before reaching out and taking the pack from Zoro's outstretched hand, fingertips barely brushing the other's palm in a way that made Zoro's heart flutter annoyingly. He silently removed one from the pack and fished his lighter out of his pocket, lighting the end and taking a deep breath of nicotine. Zoro let his eye fall shut as he felt his body relax unwillingly with the cook's exhale causing the smell of smoke to settle around them.

They sat in silence for a while, Zoro content to let the other think he was asleep while he listened to the sounds of the cook preparing their food. He was jolted out of his meditative state as a cold bottle was pressed against his cheek. He opened his good eye lazily to look up at the cook who was pressing a nice bottle of booze against his cheek and holding a freshly prepared batch of onigiri.

Sanji's head was turned away but Zoro was transfixed at the slight flush that was climbing up the other's neck. He took the other's offerings gently and Sanji walked back to the kitchen to keep working.

"'s nice to know that I was missed," Sanji said so quietly that Zoro barely heard him over the sounds of the kitchen and the party outside. He didn't say anything more, but Zoro could hear what the cook was really trying to say: 'thanks...'

Zoro smiled to himself, taking a deep drink, "don't let it happen again."

Sanji hummed his agreement.

[somebluemelodies]

SURPRISE MFS in honor of one whole year since the spiderbit wedding, here's a little something to celebrate the gay cubitos of all time <3 also known as: spiderbit renewing their vows and being so stupidly in love with each other this is a really fucking long one i'm sorry (not sorry)

They walk until they find a flower forest, and it's three in the morning when the words are said. Repeated.

Neither of them have been able to sleep well the last several weeks, with the tumultuous amount of back to back to back situations, feeling stripped of almost all the control they felt they had before.

(And heaven forbid they don't have their eyes on each other for more than a few hours. What if something happens again? What if the other gets ripped from them, right from arms reach, all over again?)

(What then?)

The amount of times they leave each other in a day can be counted on one hand, and at night they're pressed together as close as humanly possible, warm and paranoid all the same.

Everything has gone to hell, it feels like. Everything except them, at least. And it truly is a reminder that maybe Roier was right once upon a time, saying it was them against the world.

So it's all gone to hell, but they have each other. And because they have each other, and have had each other for so long now, they walk and walk until they find a flower forest.

(And because they can't sleep, but that's besides the point.)

(It's the closest they can get to a year ago.)

They walk through the flower forest until they find a clearing, standing themselves in the middle of it.

Cellbit is the one to break the quiet that had befallen them, gently taking Roier's hands into his. His voice is soft. "Guapito?"

"¿Sí?"

"Would you like to get married again?"

A smile etches its way onto the spider-hybrid's face immediately, and he's nodding after a couple seconds. "I thought you'd never ask, gatinho."

The investigator smiles, too, feeling lighter than he has in months. Wordlessly, he slides the puzzle piece ring off his husband's finger, slipping the spider ring off his own to press it carefully into Roier's palm.

It's just them, there, and neither of them remember much of the formalities and spiels of words that came with from Father Peta the first time around.

(They were too focused on each other.)

But they both remember at least one thing as clear as day. And, temporarily pocketing his ring, Cellbit takes Roier's hands again, and speaks the words that came to him as easy as breathing. That still do.

"Você foi a primeira pessoa que eu vi quando eu cheguei nessa ilha. No meio de todo aquele caos, você foi o primeiro que apareceu no vidro, e desde que eu vi esse seu sorriso--" he lets go of one of his hands, raising his own to cup the spider-hybrid's face, stroking his cheek adoringly-- "eu sabia que eu nunca mais ia esquecer dele.

Quando eu mais precisei de alguém, quando eu estava completamente sozinho, você apareceu." Somehow, it almost felt even more true than it did back then. Roier, who always somehow knew when to show up when he needed it, who always knew whether he needed to talk or needed a distraction. Roier, who not only loved him through his lowest and most gruesome moments, but was willing to stoop to the same exact level as him.

(Was it unhealthy? Maybe. But Cellbit gave up on maintaining healthy habits months ago. There's no time or patience for that, anymore.

And Roier understands that. Roier understands him.)

He watches his partner lean into his touch, dark eyes closing as he soaks in the words with a small smile. "Eu quero que você saiba que enquanto eu estiver aqui--" Cellbit moves his other hand, to carefully cradle Roier's face in both-- "você nunca vai estar sozinho.”

(He'd gotten a little rocky on that promise, but he came back. And he'll keep coming back, no matter what. Nothing will keep them apart anymore.)

(Roier knows that, too. Because Cellbit has left, but Cellbit always comes back. Time and time again. The one person who hasn't truly left him yet, and the one person it seems he could never truly get rid of even if he wanted to. A scarily beautiful thing.)

Eyes open, Roier lets a few moments pass before gently pulling his husband's hands off his face, holding them in both of his own against his chest. The look the cat-hybrid is giving him makes him want to melt into a puddle on the forest floor, and he hopes that the other is feeling even half as warm and fuzzy as he is.

(Cellbit most certainly is, resisting the urge to pull him closer and kiss him senseless.)

Roier sighs, squeezing Cellbit's hands. "Yo no tengo nada preparado para decirte, pero te lo diré desde el corazón. Eres una de las personas en las que más confio. Eres la persona en las que más confio."

(That had certainly become far more true with time. Cellbit understands him. And when he doesn't, he tries until he does.)

(With Cellbit, Roier doesn't need to worry about feeling seen or heard. He can just be.)

"Te amo." It's his turn to reach out, delicately pushing back some of his partner's hair before stroking along his cheekbone. He hears the telltale rumbly beginnings of a purr from the cat-hybrid, and feels the oh-so-familiar light coil of a tail around his leg. "Te amo con todo mi corazón.

Y, estaré siempre a tu lado, para cualquer cosa que necesites."

(He's proven that, time and time again. Between being willing to go war against the Federation with him and being so incredibly willing to murder worker after worker until their message is clear and everything else in between.)

Cellbit pulls the spider ring back out of his pocket, smiling amusedly when Roier immediately holds his left hand out. "Do you accept me as your life partner?"

"Sí, sí, acepto. I think it's obvious, no?"

The investigator laughs, and, with a gentle meticulousness that makes the spider-hybrid weak in the knees, he slides the ring back on, holding his hand in both of his and raising it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top. "May not even death do us part."

Roier is momentarily surprised, but his smile brightens in a heartbeat, feeling like he could burst. He grabs the white puzzle piece ring from his sweatshirt. "And do you accept me as your life partner?"

"Aceito. Sempre."

He grabs the white puzzle piece ring, sliding it back onto his husband's own left hand and mimicking the kiss. "Then may not even death do us part.

Is this the part where we kiss, now?" he asks after a beat, making Cellbit laugh even more. He starts to laugh himself at the contagious sound.

When they calm down several seconds later, Cellbit cups Roier's face once more, warmth reigniting in the latter's veins at the fond smile on his husband's face, the brightness in his eyes that goes far beyond their piercing color. "Well, it is now."

"Perfecto. I was getting impatient."

One hand immediately holds the back of Cellbit's head, the other resting against his cheek as he pulls the cat-hybrid closer, slamming their lips together.

Cellbit melts into it instantly, moving one arm to wrap around Roier's neck and draw him even closer still.

(It's a miracle they can even get closer to each other.)

They only pull apart when their lungs demand oxygen, foreheads falling forward to press together as they catch their breath. But even then, only a few seconds pass before they're reconnected in another kiss.

But this one is softer, far more gentle. Roier cards his hand through Cellbit's hair, and Cellbit holds him tighter even still.

Their noses brush when they pull away. "Obrigado, guapito," the investigator murmurs.

"Ya, mi amor," his husband chastises fondly. "No thanking me." Roier tilts Cellbit's head down, kissing his forehead. "Eu te amo, gatinho."

Cellbit smiles, turning his head to kiss Roier's palm and nuzzle into it. "Te amo, guapito."

He lets the spider-hybrid pull him into a tight embrace, no more space left between them. A loud purr reverberates from his chest, and he lets his tail coil back around his husband's leg, effectively keeping them in place for a while.

The Federation could take and take and take, but there's one thing they'll never be able to take, no matter how hard they try.

(You can't take soulmates.)

No one should find them out here, giving them all the time in the world. But should anyone try to mess with them, they'll learn the hard way.

(Never again.)

[rassicas]

We are getting playable Cuttlefish in Splatoon 3.

i dont like saying im totally certain about predictions, but the evidence is so subtle, yet so very intentional in the exact way that the splatoon team would do if they were trying to hint at something. (under the cut because long post)

I’m sure some of you have seen PandaUniverse’s tweet introducing the cuttlefish evidence. first two images are from that tweet, putting it out there that i cant take credit for those.

exhibit A: train station gates

the splatoon team foreshadowed OE before release with a blocked off train station in inkopolis square....this seems even more obvious? no entry for squids, mysterious 2 finned squid thing can enter? exhibit B: weird hat

again, two finned squid thingy like in the ticket gates. i saw some ppl saying “its just a weird octopus” but like. why would the splatoon team purposely model an octopus hat super weirdly? also @sprousprou​ sent me a better image:

that is not an octopus lol After i saw the tweet, i remembered a thing that me and my friend dodo were scratching our heads at a few months ago while we were reconning all the s3 stages for details, because... Exhibit C: that’s a fucking cuttlefish

again, 2 fins. found in Mincemeat Metalworks, it’s in the same style as the Angry Squid and Angry Octopus graffiti that’s been seen before.

So how do I feel about this? well... not even a month ago i thought it would be weird to expect a new playable species, but the evidence feels so undeniable now. but i also mentioned in that ask, cuttlefish are pretty much the only species that would make sense with current lore. being ink-producing cephalopods in real life, unlike nautiluses or dumbo octopuses, i would expect cuttlefish to be ink-based shapeshifters like the inklings and octolings. and we have seen cuttlefish in splatoon’s canon before... albeit only once in the japan-only octo expansion artbook....and they look a lot like inklings. However i find it a bit... weird... that they’d be introduced like this with next to zero build up, unlike the playable octolings which were hinted at from the first game. i’m also deeply concerned about the idea of this truly becoming a pattern, like the splatoon team potentially introducing a new species in each DLC, leaning on "play as this New Guy” as the main selling point and not “play this cool story.” I also would prefer if they just expanded on customization for octolings and inklings and not added a new species. but i guess it’s splatoon 3, gotta have 3 species too. and ill take it any day over salmonlings also in the aforementioned ask, the only justification i could think of for a sudden introduction of cuttlefish would be that they happen to live super far away outside of inkadia/splatlands. combine that with the knowledge that the DLC is more than likely going to be a world tour of some kind...well, that’s probably gonna be the reason for their introduction: they just live far away. tl;dr im feeling 100% sure cuttlefish are coming to splatoon whether we like it or not

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 15

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: It's your first day back at training.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 656

I Hope You Leave A Scar

A few days later you're feeling much better and decide to go down to the gym for a little work out hoping to find a partner to train with, as you refuse to ask Kamala for fear of hurting her, or fear of her swiftly kicking your ass. You put on some of your old clothes for the first time and begin to feel more like yourself.

When you arrive you find the place to be completely empty, you're about to relent and get to work on a punching bag when you hear someone walk in, "Need a partner?" says a soft, captivating voice, you turn around slowly to look at its owner, putting your guard up immediately.

"You're not seriously suggesting I train with you," you scowl.

"Come on, you hate that thing." Carol points at the bag.

"I don't hate it, it's fine," you try to lie.

"It will never get close to the real thing," she responds, quoting your exact thoughts. You walk towards her carefully, looking her in the eye.

"No powers, two out of three falls, do not try anything funny."

"Deal." There's a slight smirk on her face.

It only takes her 30 seconds to take you down the first time, you chug it up to being cold still, you get up and go again. This time you manage to get a hit in first, one punch to the abdomen and a kick on the shin to take her down.

You're clearly reaching the end of your stamina, having been through major surgery and no training for the past months, Carol notices and starts discreetly letting down to make the moment last longer, you feel like she knows your every move before you even think about it, it's almost like a dance you learned a long time ago and can no longer remember, but your body can follow it perfectly.

You start to get too in your head and she takes the opportunity to flip you over and land you on your back, your hoodie flying off in the process. She straddles your waist to keep you pinned down, both of you pant heavily. She stares at your face for a moment too long, your brain is urging you to push her off, but your heart hasn't felt so at ease since you woke up from the ambush, so you let her be.

Her gaze turns to horror when she goes from your eyes to your arms, finding all the bruises and burns that adorn them, "Did I do this?" she whispers as she traces them down ever so gently, you remain silent, "I’m so sorry, angel."

As she's tracing your arms up again she follows all the way to your neck, finding a big, nasty scar there, she doesn't dare touch it, "Did I do this, too?" Her voice is shaky.

"Depends how you look at it," you murmur.

"It's from the ambush," she states, you can only look at her shyly, "what did they do to you?" There is fear and concern in her words.

"No worse than what you did to me." You finally find it in yourself to get her off of you, get up, and leave.

You go back to your room to take a shower, when you get out you find Kamala lounging on your bed, "You look worse than when I left you," she teases.

"Thought I'd check out the gym."

She eyes you skeptically, "That doesn't look like the work of a punching bag."

"Your Captain thought it would be a good bonding activity. She kicked my ass, again," you explain humorlessly and join Kamala on the bed. “She called me 'Angel,’ is that my codename?"

She snorts, "It's your pet name."

"What do you mean?" You look at her with confusion.

"If you have to ask, you don't get it," she sasses you, knowing it's not her place to explain further.

Chapter 16

Kamala spending all her time in R's room is just my favorite.

Tags: @graniairish @carols-photonblast @thelittleliars @unicorniusfallapatorius @prplepeony @eringranola

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

[applejuicefruit]

I love your blog ❤️❤️ never stop writing ❤️ can i request Neymar and Reader where maybe they are cooking together and Neymar breaks a plate and reader flinches because she was in a bad relationship before Neymar but he doesn’t know it please?❤️

Thank you so much <3

Thank you for requesting this I hope you like it ❤️

Neymar x reader

Tw : mention of panic attack, domestic violence and abuse

My angel

You and Neymar started to date only a few months ago, everything was new into your relationship, you were still in the honeymoon phase where he would bring you flowers at your office, you would meet every single time after dinner to spend some quality time together and he would give you free tickets to his games. Everything was beautiful but there was just one little detail you didn’t tell him ; you came from a very long and abusive relationship, your ex boyfriend manipulated you into thinking you couldn’t live without him, he made you needed him to the point you couldn’t live without knowing if he was okay or not and when you realised you were stuck into his mind game it was too late, he took all of his anger out on you, it didn’t matter how many times you begged him to stop, he wouldn’t listen.

Your opportunity came when you applied for a job in Paris, that meaning you would had to leave all of your life and start a new one but you didn’t care, you wanted to be free so one day you took that job and left when he was at work. It was the best decision you ever made. It’s been a year now. You met Neymar a couple of months after you moved in Paris and even if you stayed friends for a lot you both felt a pull, you both were so in love with each others it was almost sickening. You would still live in your own apartment, needing your time alone and your spaces and it was okay with that plus you knew he had a son so you didn’t want to make things awkward for him too.

You liked being with Neymar. He made you feel safe and protected, something you thought you would never feel again. He showed you real love and how to love. He knew you came from a bad relationship but you didn’t say anything else, he thought your ex cheated on you and you were okay with that, you didn’t want to bring him in your dark past, not when you created your own perfect bubble to live in.

One night you were having dinner at his place, Davi was with his mother so you and Ney had the place all for yourselves. Instead of ordering food you both decided to cook something, he wanted to make a brazilian dish for you and he asked you to help him cook. You were having so much fun that you didn’t think that a simple plate breaking would trigger all of your trauma in that moment.

Neymar accidentally dropped a plate that it ended all smashed on the floor.

The moment the plate broke something triggered in you and you flinched, scared by the sound.

“You okay?” Neymar asked you when he saw you flinching

“Uh? Oh yeah I’m-I’m fine I just got scared” you said keeping your voice from shaking. Ney seemed okay with your response so he didn’t asked more questions and you were grateful for that but still something wasn’t right with you. Your mind was back at your old place with your ex, the moments he used to shout ad you, the moments he used to lay his hands on you, the moments he used to throw glasses and empty bottles at you and in that exact moment the glass you were holding completely fell from your hands, smashing into millions of pieces on the floor.

“Oh my…I’m sorry Ney” you said with tears in your eyes, remembering all the things your ex would do to you if you dared breaking something he bought because - how he used to say - he worked hard for all you ever had and you didn’t show him appreciation if you broke something “I’m really sorry…I’m so sorry Ney, I promise you I’ll buy you a new one please don’t be mad” you said, head low while taking a few steps back

“Babe? It’s okay it’s just a glass” he said trying to reach for your hand but you flinched away “honey can you look at me?” he gently asked you and you nodded. Your glossy and now puffy eyes meeting Neymar’s worried face

“I swear I’ll buy you a new one, I didn’t mean to break it” you spoke again, fear in your voice while tears fell from your face “just please don’t be mad…”

“Babe…I really don’t care about that glass, I promise you, I’m worried about you my love…can I come closer?” he asked you but you moved your head no “…okay, it’s okay…y/n can you tell me what is going on please?” he asked now, he was kinda worried, not knowing what was going on with you

“Promise me you won’t be mad please…” you asked him and he nodded “okay…so, you know how before meeting you I was in this ehm…kind of toxic relationship right?” you asked him

“Yes, with the shit that cheated on you…” he raised his voice a little bit and you flinched again “babe…did he ever hurt you?” he asked you softly when he saw you flinching again. At this point you started crying more and more and Ney had no idea of what to do, you clearly showed that you didn’t want to be touched and it was okay for him, but he wanted to comfort you and had no idea how.

“He was…he was manipulative and when I tried to stop him it was too late - he became more violent and abusive and I was stuck there” you cried “I had no friends, my friends were his friends and I knew they would have never believed me…I was completely alone and I got stuck into that situation for months and months and I-I” you kept telling him your story but you were panicking and Neymar sensed it

“Honey shhh…it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me the whole story if you don’t want to…I just want you to know that I’m here okay?” he said comforting you giving you a smile and you hugged him, needing him to comfort you. He wrapped his arms around your body keeping you close “shhh…it’s okay baby, it’s okay, it’s over now” he whispered you

“It’s just…he used to throw bottles at me so when you broke the plate it kinda reminded me of him and-and when I broke your glass I panicked…” you explained while his hands were gently massaging your back

“I’m so sorry you went through this baby…” he said, letting a few tears fall but quickly wiping those away because he didn’t want to cry in front of you, he wanted to be strong for you in that moment even if his blood was boiling but he kept it calm and he kissed your forehead “…I’m really so fucking sorry this shit happened to you…you didn’t deserve it okay? You should be proud of you meu amor, you’re so strong you got out of it…I’m so proud of you baby, I love you so much” Neymar was fuming, he couldn’t imagine someone hurting his girl, his love. To him you were an angel, so pure and kind and just the thought of someone laying their hands on you made him so mad but in that moment all he wanted to do was hold you and keeping you close and closer to him, comforting you and telling you how proud he was of you - “okay…I have an idea, why don’t you put on a movie, whatever movie you want to watch and I finish cooking so we can eat and then cuddle all night?” Neymar asked you and saw you smiling a bit

“It’s perfect” you said kissing him and going to the living room to pick up a movie. Neymar smiled at you while finishing to cook, already thinking that you may have chosen a marvel movie even if he was more a dc person but he didn’t care, all he wanted was for you to be comfortable and happy with him.

[cacoetheswriting]

heyy

can you do a angst with fluffy ending with eddie x reader on reader birthday (but not that he forgot pls 🙏🏻) you can decide the rest

thank you so much!! 💖💖

gosh i am sooooo sorry for only getting this out to you now! it's been sitting in my drafts, half-finished for far too long! again, super sorry for the delay - and i hope you enjoy 🤍

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.3k content warnings: talk of breakups / heartbreak (eddie & reader are exes), adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Birthdays weren’t really your thing.

Celebrating getting older stopped being fun when the gifts turned from colourful toys to cards with generic wishes, and when parties went from having bright bouncy castles to drinking cheap wine alone in a messy apartment at the end of an even messier night. From pure, unfiltered joy, to misery and feeling like your life was slipping through your fingers, fast.

There were a few expectations over the last few years — four lucky birthdays to be exact. And these happy memories came into existence thanks to a certain curly-haired, brown-eyed boy.

Eddie first asked you out a few days before your nineteenth birthday and even though the two of you never really talked prior, there was no denying he was really fucking pretty and you had a big fat silent crush on him for quite some time before that faithful afternoon.

He invited you out for burgers, and in the midst of natural conversation, when you let slip that it was your birthday, Eddie also got you ice-cream, asking the waiter to place a single candle in the colourful sundae.

Till this day, it was the most genuine thing anyone has ever done for you. The most romantic too.

And every birthday that followed, every birthday you spent together with the metalhead was beyond special. He made them special.

From balloons and love notes, to heartfelt gifts, various activities during the day and dinners at his trailer or out in town. He even rallied your friends and threw you parties that no longer ended with loneliness. No year was the same. Eddie made them unique and memorable — which you adored him for wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately, the genuine love you shared was not enough and the relationship came to an unforeseen end.

Eddie had big plans of one day becoming a rockstar, practicing guitar in his free time till his fingers bled, and you were studying day and night, working towards your dream degree. Your lives were heading in completely different directions and there came a point where you only saw each other once every fortnight, while your already irregular phone calls were often cut short.

That was three months ago. A breakup as natural as breathing, yet equally as earth shattering.

Even though it was a mutual decision, the pain was ever present and you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after. Eddie took a piece of you when he left and your whole body was in mourning. It didn’t help that everything in what remained of your life reminded you of him. Physical items like the printed t-shirts in your drawer or the mug he branded as his and you never let anyone else use. A Dio song you’d hear randomly or the diner he took you to on your first date. Then there was the emotional side, the soft glimmer in his eyes you remembered when you closed yours and the sound of his laughter you wished you’d hear again.

Things eventually got easier ‘cause it’s not like you saw Eddie often when you were together. Plus studying for an ungodly amount of hours kept you busy, distracted. And after giving yourself an appropriate time to feel everything, there was honestly no more time for heartbreak.

That is until your birthday rolled around.

When you opened your eyes late morning, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole — which in Hawkins was more than likely to happen. The last four birthdays were nothing short of perfect and now…  

The nausea followed shortly after.

Your plan was to stay in bed all day, and it was going quite well since at six o’clock that evening you were glued to the same spot, until Robin barged into your room, Steve close on her heels, with a glass of water and a poorly decorated cake. Their singing gave you a headache, but you were still grateful for their attempt to make this day end on a better note.

“Now, go get your ass dressed,” Robin orders, glancing at Steve for his rehearsed words of encouragement.

He’s wide-eyed at first, nose buried in icing, but quickly nods at Robin’s words and looks in your direction.

“Y-yes, yes! We have an evening of fun planned!” Steve exclaims after swallowing a mouth full of vanilla cake.

Your roommates, however sweet they were trying to be, failed to realise the one place you really didn’t want to spend your birthday was The Hideout, and that’s exactly where they brought you.

The Hideout, presenting its usual lurking charm from the moment you stepped inside, was the one place in Hawkins you knew guaranteed an awkward bump-in with Eddie. Or maybe a needed interaction? Seeing him in his element could possibly bring some sort of closure after three months of no contact… No. No. Seeing him would only bring back the pain you tried real hard to bury.

A stench of old man sweat mixed with spilled booze hits your senses while you hurry closely behind Robin and Steve. In the dim light, your eyes are focused on the floor below, partially because you’re trying not to slip or trip over your own two feet, but mainly ‘cause you’re fearful of catching a glimpse of a certain head of wild brown locks. You only look up when the three of you approach a table closer to the back, away from most of the noise, and are greeted with hugs from Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. 

Settling yourself on one of the chairs, you exchange pleasantries with the rest of your friends while Steve orders a round of shots for the group. They all raise a toast to your health, their cheers attracting some attention in the process, but you don’t think anything of it, starting to instead feel glad you agreed to this.

“Birthday girl isn’t allowed to pay for her own drinks, got it?” Robin addresses the group and they all nod in unison. You wanna protest, but she swats at you from across the table before the words escape your lips. Her eyes saying that you need this, your eyes saying that you’re grateful she’s your friend. I know, Robin mouths as Jonathan takes everyone’s drink order.

Every shot you take, you chase with a rum and coke. The liquid burns down your throat. Third, fourth, fifth round down. You’re feeling buzzed, happy. Most importantly, no longer thinking of the boy that would normally also be hanging out with this group — blissfully unaware that he was actually watching your every move from the other side of the bar.

Eddie hadn’t initially planned on going out tonight. After a long day of working at the garage, then band practice right after, he really just wanted to smoke and fall asleep. As he got out of the shower however, instead of jumping into bed, he reached for a clean t-shirt. He couldn’t really explain why. It was stupid to think something inside of him was urging him to come to The Hideout tonight. He was wrecked beyond belief, yet his feet carried him here.

Then he heard it. Your name, followed by a mini-eruption of woohoos.

Head snapping in the direction of the sound, Eddie’s gaze found the source of the noise and then scanned the small group until he reached your relaxed frame. Christ, he thought, palms getting clammy. To say you looked gorgeous would be a vast understatement. And to say he didn’t realise just how much he missed you until this very moment would be nothing short of the truth.

Sure, after the breakup, Eddie found it hard to get through the day-to-day. Constantly distracted, thinking about you and second guessing the decision you both made. But then he reminded himself this was for the best, convinced himself that people can have more than one great love in their life, and things got easier.

There were days he hoped he’d accidentally run into you. At the store, out for coffee, or just wandering the streets of Hawkins. No such luck. When he started working at the shop to save some extra cash, he thought maybe you’d come in with your clunk of shit car since he was always telling you to get it looked at, but again, it never happened. 

Three months passed like nothing.

Eddie would’ve never thought that today, your fucking birthday of all days, would be when he saw you next.

Cold beer in hand, he thought about walking up to the table you sat at with your mutual friends. And he was about to, but then you laughed at something Argyle said and the honey-like sound froze him in place. Clearly, you were having a good time. Eddie didn’t want to ruin that, so he opted for watching you like some fucking creep. 

Four beers later, he’s still in the same spot.

Nancy takes over the jukebox duties. Billy Idol’s White Wedding starts to play as she pulls you to your feet, an excited squeal escaping her lips when you don’t protest. Swaying your hips to the music, you feel elated. Even more so when Robin joins in, singing along as Nancy twirls around the two of you. The boys clap, grinning like idiots, and you know you’re going to remember this moment forever, or at least until you unintentionally go over your drink limit and black out.

A smile tugs at the corners of Eddie’s lips as he continues to shamelessly stare at you. Carefree, is the word he’d use now to describe you and in all honesty, he hasn’t seen you like this in a while. Then his smile falters before it really fully appears ‘cause he finds himself wishing he was the reason for your current mood. Was ending things a mistake?

Mid-song, you spin and as you do, your eyes skim the bar, passing a set of curly hair. The air hitches in your throat as you double back. Just to make sure your drunken gaze wasn’t deceiving you, you tell yourself, but the reality is much different. Please be him, please be him, please be him…

When your eyes do lock with his, your tummy burns.

The copious amount of alcohol trifling through your veins right now gives you that extra push you need to start a short strut towards your ex-boyfriend. Someone’s arm is on you, attempting to pull you back slightly, but you don’t pay attention to it. Then you hear Steve say, “let her go, she needs this.”, and you’re free to continue your journey. 

In a trance, gaze glued to Eddie’s chocolate one, you push through the people until you’re leaning against the bar he was sitting at, observing as his features turn from awe into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Eddie greets nonchalantly, as if no time has passed, as if nothing has changed between the two of you.

So you follow in his footsteps, carefully hoisting yourself up on the stool next to his, bare knee brushing against his denim-clad one. 

“Wanna order me a drink?”

Eddie smirks. “Straight to the point, as always.”

“Well, since it is my birthday, Robin said I’m not allowed to pay for my own poison,” you tell him, shrugging lightly, “So if you have a problem with that, you gotta take it up with her.”

He huffs out a laugh. 

“I’d rather not go against Buckley.” And with that he orders a shot of tequila each.

When the small glasses are in front of you, accompanied by a lime wedge, he takes your hand without asking, then licks between your thumb and index finger, doe-eyes never leaving yours. 

A shiver runs down your spine at the sudden contact and you try to play it cool, but in reality your heart is racing. Though Eddie doesn’t give you time to think about what he’s done with no warning, pouring salt in the spot he’s just salivated. He then hastily repeats the action on his own hand and pushes a shot glass in your direction. 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

The toast is short and sweet. He raises the glass in front of his face as the words escape his lips, licks the salt off his own hand (which you’re a little disappointed in, unsurprisingly already missing the sensation that was his gentle touch), and downs the liquid in one go.

You quickly follow suit, not wanting to seem like he got you all flustered. But as the two of you sit and stare at one another while sucking on the lime wedges for a little longer than normal, you realise he’s just as rattled as you are — good.

“I hate tequila,” Eddie announces, discarding the wedge.

“I don’t mind it,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth.

His gaze drops slightly, to where your finger presses against your puffy lips, and he bites down on his own rather shamelessly. There is a brief moment of silence in which Eddie thinks back to seconds before, when his tongue caressed your soft skin. He hates himself a little ‘cause he doesn’t wanna mess with your head, but fuck did that feel good. He’d like to do it again, if not more. Is that crazy?

And while you continue to look into his eyes, the butterflies in your stomach are going wild since you know exactly what he’s thinking. The only problem is you don’t know how to tell him because there’s so much else to be said first. Three months of catching up, to be precise, but did exes even do that?

“How about we get out of here?” Eddie offers, voice nothing short of a murmur.

You nod. Of course you nod. You’d go to the end of the world if he’d ask.

Before you know it, Eddie’s hand is on the small of your back, leading you through The Hideout crowd and out the front door. You don’t say goodbye to your friends, you can apologise tomorrow for leaving without a word. Instead, you inhale the fresh air, a wobble in your step as you turn to once again look at your ex-boyfriend.

“Where do you wanna go?”

Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as close as he possibly can. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles. A genuine smile.

“There’s this diner not far from here,” he answers simply and your heart swells. Then once again, tenfold, as he places a kiss to your crown before whispering in your ear, “Back to where it all started, pretty girl.”.

as always, thank you for reading! pls don't hesitate to reblog & tell me what you think - ily!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

[musicalmoritz]

Idk if you were around during the pitchfork Tsukasa days where even having an au where Tsukasa didn’t get possessed by the entity and therefore was just a normal chaotic piece of shit (so first year him since we know in first year, he was literally just a little asshole) was branded to get you like, immediately persecuted. People made call out threads just cause you shipped Tsukasa with someone his age and told other people they deserved to be in a mental hospital or told to kys because they thought Tsukasa had nuance and when the possession theory was TRUE? People still badgered and hurt others to the point that some people are like, terrified of even admitting they like Tsukasa 😭. I remember being driven away from people my age in the fandom and getting dragged into shit circles because the fandom was like “you ship Tsukasa? You’re an abuse apologist!”

I was not around for those days, I’ve only been in the fandom for about a year but omg that sounds rough😭 I can relate tho, before I got into TBHK I was hyperfixated on Fruits Basket- specifically Shigure, Akito, and their relationship, and let me tell you…oof it was a struggle. Luckily I was able to stay in my own little fandom corner with other Akigure lovers but I had to block ppl every time I looked up edits for them on TikTok. I’m also a Hisoka fan so there’s that

Tbh it bothers me how fandoms moralize liking certain characters. I watched a video essay a few months ago on the Dahmer Netflix series and how people romanticize serial killers, and someone in the comments brought up The Joker as a comparison. Now I’ll be honest, The Joker is one of my least favorite characters ever, but he’s still a fictional character. The fact that it would even cross someone’s mind to put him in the same category as a real life rapist, cannibal, and murder, is genuinely so disturbing to me. This might sound dramatic but I was kinda messed up abt it for a while, it made me realize that this line of thinking with fiction can severely alter people’s empathy

Anyways, I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Fandoms are not very rational when it comes to these subjects and they’re very subject to groupthink. You hear the exact same argument reused to explain why Tsukasa shouldn’t be shipped because most of those people aren’t coming up with that opinion on their own, they’re copying what others have said. That’s why I headcanon him as aroace, I can’t picture him liking anyone romantically but I didn’t want to align myself with the rest of the fandom by saying he would automatically be a domestic abuser no matter who he’s with

He’s also a really cool character and tbh I feel like people are missing out by hating him on sight. So many fans seem baffled at the thought of anyone having positive feelings towards him. He’s not crazy high on my character ranking but I still love him dearly, I’m happy so many people have been asking about him today because it gives me a chance to defend my son (well, not defend his actions but yk, defend him from the fandom police)