#I’m literally in love with these people

[maxdibert]

One of the things I love most about Elle Woods is that I would totally adore her. I mean, I’m a terribly dark and depressed person who loves grimy dive bars, suicidal poets, and cult films—I need people dressed in pink with naturally elevated dopamine levels to remind me the world isn’t total crap. Literally the kind of people I’d kill for.

#The college experience is literally being Elle in this scene

[amirasainz]

What about Charles x girlfriend where they spend the day on the yacht with friends, but Charles is busy admiring his gf

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl ♥️

A Day on the Riviera

The sun shone brightly on the Côte d’Azur as the group of six gathered on the pristine yacht bobbing gently in the azure waters. The laughter and chatter filled the air, the perfect blend of friendship, love, and relaxation. The yacht was as luxurious as it was spacious, but the real charm was the people on board: Charles, his girlfriend Yn, Carlos with Rebecca, and Pierre with Kika.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Charles couldn’t take his eyes off Yn. She was sitting with Rebecca and Kika, the three of them engrossed in conversation and giggling over something Rebecca had just said. Yn was wearing a flowy sundress that complemented her perfectly, her hair catching the sunlight and her smile radiant enough to rival the sun.

“She looks like a literal goddess,” Charles murmured, half to himself, half to Carlos, who was standing beside him.

Carlos raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Mate, you’ve been staring at her for the past hour. You’re obsessed.”

“And proud of it,” Charles shot back, not even trying to deny it.

Pierre overheard and joined in the teasing. “Let the man live, Carlos. He’s clearly whipped.” Pierre chuckled, sipping his drink. “But seriously, Charles, blink once in a while.”

Charles rolled his eyes, though his gaze remained fixed on Yn. “She deserves it. Look at her. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Alright, Romeo, we get it.” Carlos nudged him playfully. “But don’t forget, we’re here too.”

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Meanwhile, the girls were having a conversation of their own. Kika leaned closer to Yn, resting her chin in her hand. “You’re glowing, Yn. I swear, if you told me you were royalty, I’d believe it.”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. “She’s right. You’re like a princess straight out of a fairytale. Charles is so lucky.”

Yn blushed, waving them off. “Stop it, you two. You’re making me shy!”

“No, no, no!” Kika exclaimed, her eyes wide. “You deserve every compliment. Honestly, the way Charles looks at you? I’d trade my soul for that kind of love.”

Rebecca laughed. “Same here. And the way he’s been snapping pictures of you all day? Girl, he’s obsessed.”

“Speaking of which…” Yn trailed off as Charles finally broke away from the boys and started making his way toward her.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Charles approached with a grin, phone in hand. “Ladies, I hope you don’t mind if I steal Yn for a moment.”

“Steal her? Charles, she’s already yours,” Rebecca teased, nudging Yn playfully.

Yn stood up, smiling at Charles as he reached for her hand. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, his green eyes sparkling. “I just wanted to take some pictures of you. You look... breathtaking.”

Rebecca and Kika exchanged knowing looks and let out dramatic sighs. “Ugh, goals,” Kika whispered, making Yn laugh.

Charles led Yn to the bow of the yacht, where the view of the sea stretched endlessly. He positioned her against the golden sunlight and began snapping pictures. “Just like that,” he murmured, “You’re perfect.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Yn said, though her smile gave away how much she adored his attention.

“No,” Charles said, lowering the phone to look at her directly. “I’m being honest. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Yn stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to keep flattering me, you know.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Charles replied before leaning in to kiss her. It was soft and tender, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes about how deeply he cared for her.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Back at the seating area, Carlos and Pierre watched the scene unfold.

“Charles is laying it on thick today,” Carlos commented with a grin.

Pierre chuckled. “Hey, you can’t blame the guy. He’s head over heels. It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Rebecca leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Honestly, if Charles keeps this up, he’s setting a new standard for boyfriends everywhere.”

Kika nodded. “Right? Imagine being loved like that every single day.”

Carlos feigned a pout. “You two better not start comparing us to Charles. We’ve got our own charm, you know.”

Rebecca smirked. “Of course you do, cariño. But admit it, Charles has set the bar high.”

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Charles and Yn returned to the group, hand in hand. Yn looked flushed but happy, and Charles had an unmistakable look of pride on his face.

“Have you finished your impromptu photoshoot?” Pierre teased.

“For now,” Charles replied easily, pulling Yn closer to his side. “But only because I have the most beautiful subject to work with.”

Rebecca and Kika let out matching “awws,” while Carlos rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, man.”

“Good,” Charles shot back with a grin. “You should all treat your girlfriends like queens.”

Pierre raised his glass. “Touché. To queens and whipped boyfriends, then.”

Everyone laughed, clinking their glasses together. The day carried on with more laughter, playful teasing, and plenty of love in the air. As the sun began to set over the Riviera, Charles leaned into Yn’s ear and whispered, “Every moment with you is perfect. You know that, right?”

Yn looked up at him, her heart swelling. “And you make every moment feel like a dream.”

For Charles, there was no teasing in the world that could make him care. Yn was his everything, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

[razztazzel]

Thought it would but cute to revisit this old au of mines and give it some lore!

I’m really passionate about this au specifically because I LOVE sci-fi like ALOT… so I might make a lot of content of it… OFC Helios planet will still be going on trust

Non filtered version + lore ⬇️⬇️⬇️

LORE!!!

All the toons are aliens!!! On a completely different planet (exoplanet) about 4.2 Light years away from earth. The company, C.V. inc. aka Cosmic View Incorporated labeled it “Proxima Centauri b” (Its a Genuine exoplanet that’s the closest known to earth it’s so cool) Let’s just say In this au, Earth is extremely Sci-FI like, reaching advances where it wouldn’t be really…. Possible as earth is now…

And so they developed travel though hyperspace (just to clarify, Hyperspace is a fictional concept and not based on current scientific understanding; it's often portrayed as a different dimension where normal space-time rules don't apply - google or something) and managed to land on Proxima Centauri b! The people traveling were highly advanced scientists and they were like, woahhh look at these little whimsical creatures!!! But only like 4 “handlers” went Cause it was still in development!!! So it was kind of a suicide mission to put it frankly

They didn’t die.. Thankfully!!! And they successfully made it back probably old and decrepit, just with a few aliens that totally weren’t kidnapped or anything (They done took the mains, Besides Zee(Vee) she didn’t exist on their planet since she’s a robot made by C.V. Inc.) Vee was made by the soon to be handlers in an attempt to collect direct data from the totally not kidnapped toons! Her emotions are 100% programmed but ran through an advanced ai that study’s the emotion of literally everything living that’s around her so her emotions can be pretty accurate to a certain degree before the robot part generally makes way, Her ai detects any subtle or visible emotion and collects data of it to train itself on how to process and express emotion, but she’ll never have TRUE emotion

Unlike original Vee they’re smart and makes her entirely water proof and very much heat resistant, Zee just cannot be Submerged in water. Anyway a group of.. more like.. scientists in like…training became handlers as a little hands on experiment for them since the owner of the entire thing was really really interested in the toons and wanted to be involved with data processing so she assigned newbies (ish) to be the handlers.. She herself handles Andy (Dandy)!

The toons are all kept in separate rooms similar to those of like experiments just less cruel, like SCP type shit but cooler and not evil… looking… trust trust… so they can be observed and have data recorded…Besides confinement they’re actually treated really well! Sprout learns to bake through his handler and generally enjoys it so he’s allowed to bake every now and then, Shelby (Shelly) gets loads of attention for being an alien bro does NOT wanna leave, Genesis Rock (Pebble) is treated like a legitimate dog gets walked and has play time even though since he’s a rock he probably doesn’t need it, but data is data, Andy hates it there they tried to feed him plant fertilizer once cause he resembles a flower..

Anyway Vee is the only one who’s not in confinement and is generally like a little bot helper for the company, YES!!! THE TOONS ARE ALLOWED TO ROAM!!! Those lovely creatures are not locked away… forever…

TOON TRIVIA

Andy(Dandy) Now has 4 arms!

Astro becomes spiderman ( Ok not really he just gets 6 arms and is constantly floating, Studies show that he cannot seem to stop..)

Shelby (Shelly) Is a mixture of an alienized fossil with a freaky chameleon, with more feral-ish aspects like protruding fangs and sharper hands compared to the others

Genesis (Pebble) can literally walk on air

sprouts hair is ALIVE do NOT cut it he will scream and he has awful fashion sense because refuses to take the scarf off because it was a gift from cosmo before being taken by weird tall things he didn’t know hashtag last thing he has from cosmo hashtag fruitcake angst hashtag NO MORE FRUITCAKE/j

Zee (Vee)is specifically meant to look similar to the alien toons, She doesn’t have a handler though the handlers like to let her wear a coat, they think it looks cute on her small frame…🫶🫶

Sprouts handler encourages sprout to wear the cute aprons they give him, he always refuses… one day.. one day..

Astro generally cannot stop floating, luckily for some reason gravity won’t allow him to float too high so he’s just chilling fr

I think I’ll call this au Cosmic Veiw incorporation /inc or to put it simply, Alien or space au for easy tagging

[anna-pineappel]

As someone who is always interested in how people use space, move through spaces and what spaces makes people feel, desire paths are a neat little concept. How humans connect with certain spaces and the emotional response is what I mayyyyy build a phd dissertation on one day, we’ll see!

It’s basically a “fuck you, I’m gonna do what I want” to whoever laid out the pathways, which tickles me as a landscape designer. But they also show the complexity of the human condition. Some people do it to literally cut corners and save time, others do it because they are curious about what’s over there… they don’t want to rush the journey.

What I love most about desire paths is that they show that you can’t predict humanity. You can certainly try, but there’s always that one person who sees the world a bit differently, and wants to wander, explore, go where no one else goes. I like that they are called ‘desire paths’ because someone desired to step off the traditional path and do their own thing. And I think that’s beautiful.

I could ramble on and on about my love for desire paths, but I’ll keep it on the shorter side!

[hrrtshape]

THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU'RE DOUBTING SHIFTING a.k.a DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL ✶

the idea of souls is the most beautiful, most romantic thing ever. because...who are we really? we’re not just flesh and bone, ticking along. we’re something more.

your soul is the eternal essence of you—your consciousness, your thoughts, your love, your dreams. it’s the part of you that has existed forever and will continue long after this one human life is done. the body? a temporary rental. the soul? that's the real home.

imagine this: your soul is like a little spark of the universe, a fragment of the stars, wandering through realities to experience everything it can. each life, each timeline, each moment is like flipping to a new page in a book. it’s all about the story, and the story is infinite.

𖥻  THE ETERNAL YOU. who you are right now? that’s just one chapter. your soul has seen other worlds, other lives, other possibilities. every little thing you feel, the deja vu, the dreams that feel too real, the magnetic pull toward certain initiatives, periods of time, objects—that’s your soul saying, “hey, remember when we were here before ?”

𖥻  SOULS DON’T AGE. that’s the gag. you might be whatever age you are right now here and now, but your soul? it's ancient. timeless. wise beyond the stars. think about how you sometimes just know things, or you feel a deep connection to places, people, or ideas. that’s your soul’s memory peeking through.

𖥻  THE COSMIC GAME. your soul came here to play. to love, cry, mess up, and learn. it’s all about experience—because even the messy parts, the heartbreak and chaos? they add flavour to the story. your soul isn’t scared of pain; it’s curious. it’s here to gather every emotion, every shade of existence.

𖥻  SOUL CONNECTIONS. you know those people you meet and immediately click with, like you’ve known them forever? or the places that feel like home even if you’ve never been there? that’s soul recognition. your soul is like, “hey, I know you ! we’ve danced this dance before.” example of this in my life is the fact that i genuinely believe i'm connected with the city of paris—i can't begin to describe the depression i have whenever i leave it or the ecstasy that runs through my brain every second i'm there. coincidence`? i think not.

𖥻  THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR CANVAS. your soul doesn’t just exist in this one little reality. oh no. it's out there painting across dimensions, skipping through timelines, creating infinite versions of itself. and every version? it’s still YOU. all of them are threads in the tapestry of your existence.

𖥻  SOULS ARE STARDUST. LITERALLY. you’re made of the same stuff as the stars. so, if you’ve ever stared at the night sky and felt small, flip that thought. you’re not small—you’re connected. you’re the universe looking back at itself. you’re a whole galaxy in human form.

𖥻  LOVE IS THE LANGUAGE OF SOULS. not just romantic love (though, yes, swoon), but the love you feel for life, art, music, laughter, sunsets, the way your favourite book smells. that’s your soul’s way of speaking. every time you feel love, you’re feeding your soul.

𖥻  DEATH ISN’T THE END. it’s just the soul saying, “okay, cool chapter. time for the next one.” it’s moving forward, exploring, learning, always expanding. the end of this life is just the beginning of another adventure.

𖥻  YOU’RE NOT YOUR BODY. your body is stunning and unique and so, so special. but it’s not YOU. the real you is the consciousness inside, the little light piloting this human-shaped vessel. your soul chose this body, this life, this moment for a reason.

𖥻  EVERYTHING IS VIBRATION. your soul is energy. and energy? it doesn’t die. it flows, shifts, and transforms. when you feel aligned, like you’re glowing or vibrating with joy—that’s your soul saying, “YES, this is it, this is what i’m here for.”

so when you feel stuck or small, remember this: you are a spark of eternity wrapped up in human skin. you are light, love, and infinite potential. your soul is dancing through this reality, and every breath, every moment is a gift it chose to experience.

you’re a freaking miracle. and everything is truly possible.

[lovelygirlwithablog]

୨ ⎯ headcanons . nicolas alexander chavez x f!reader

a/n: i started watching monsters and MAN, i get the HYPE. here is some cute and a little spicy headcanons for y'all!!!

━ spontaneous AF

Nic would totally be the guy to text you like, “Get ready, I’m picking you up in 20,” and then take you on some random adventure, like stargazing or getting ice cream at midnight. Literally boyfriend goals.

━ biggest hype man

He’s always like, “Babe, you’re AMAZING,” even when you’re just, like, doing homework or surviving Monday. He’d make you feel like a literal queen 24/7.

━ obsessed with your music taste

He’d always ask for song recs and then add them to a playlist called, like, Songs That Remind Me of Her (AND HE’D ACTUALLY LISTEN TO IT).

━ puppy love vibes

He’d 100% suggest adopting a dog together because “it’d be so cute, just like us,” and then post pics of you two with the dog, captioned, “My girls 🫶🏻.” Like, STOP.

━ always touchy

Nic would hold your hand everywhere. Like, even if you’re just walking around Target, he’d be holding it or wrapping an arm around you. People would literally gag at how cute you are.

━ so funny it hurts

He’d do dumb stuff like mimic your laugh or make up random nicknames for you, just to see you crack up. His goal in life is literally to make you laugh until you cry.

━ old school sweetheart

He’s SO that guy who shows up at your house with flowers “just because” or plans a cute dinner date with candles, even if it’s just takeout. ROMANCE IS ALIVE.

━ late night calls

He’d call you at like 11 PM and be like, “So what’s on your mind?” And then suddenly it’s 2 AM, and you’re talking about your childhood dreams or your favorite foods. LIKE WHO DOES THAT? Nic does.

━ intense eye contact

He’d have this thing where he just stares at you with those gorgeous eyes, like you’re the only person in the room. And you’d be like, “What?” and he’d smirk and go, “Nothing, you’re just distracting.” HELP.

━ that smirk game

He totally knows what he’s doing when he hits you with that crooked smile. Like, you’d be arguing over something dumb, and he’d smirk mid-sentence, making you forget what you were even mad about. It’s unfair, honestly.

━ hand placement expert

Whether it’s his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking, or casually brushing his fingers against yours before holding your hand, he’s SO smooth about it. Like, boy, do you know what you’re doing? (He does.)

━ jealous but chill

He’s not like, possessive, but if another guy’s flirting with you, he’ll slide up next to you, wrap an arm around your waist, and be like, “Hey babe, ready to go?” in this low, confident voice. Dead.

━ his hoodie

He’d totally give you his hoodie when you’re cold, but low-key, he thinks you look hotter in it than he does. And then he’d be like, “You’re keeping that, right? It looks better on you anyway.” STOP.

━ the way he kisses

Nic is a pull-you-in-by-the-waist-and-make-you-forget-your-name kind of kisser. Like, soft at first, but then when he gets serious? UGH. You’re blushing just thinking about it.

━ voice drop

He’d get all close to your ear to whisper something—like a joke, or even just “You’re so pretty”—and his voice would drop like 10 octaves. You’d be SHIVERING.

━ protective but subtle

He’d walk on the side of the street closest to traffic without saying a word or instinctively pull you closer in a crowded room. He wouldn’t make a big deal about it, but inside you’d be like, “I’m marrying this man.”

━ that lowkey dominance

He’d be the guy to put his arm around your chair at dinner or rest his hand on your thigh while driving. It’s not showy, just this quiet confidence that makes you melt.

━ post workout look

When he shows up all sweaty from the gym with his hair messed up and his shirt clinging to him just right? You’re DONE. And he knows it, too, because he’ll smirk and say, “What? See something you like?”

[moomine]

backwash III | daisuke

author's note: thank you to literally everyone who’s reading this! you guys are so so sweet and i love you all <3 if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me!! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) Sleep is increasingly hard to find on the Tulpar. At night the reader spends her time in the cockpit, thinking about home. When she feels the whim to sleep, she ventures back to the sleeping quarters, only to bump into Daisuke. Instead, she joins him for a midnight snack and some conversation in the lounge.

word count: 2,372

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Dave Bixby - "Morning Sun"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 034—

There was this movie I watched once when I was a kid, about a little girl who falls from the sky. Although I can’t remember the title of it now. I do remember that she was a part of another world, a part of something bigger. She was important. I don’t think you have us write these to talk about movies, do you? I’m sure you’d rather hear about the operations on board, or the technical difficulties, or if there’s been any damage to the cargo. You know, the “important stuff”.  Everything is running smoothly so far. Is that good?

I want to be a part of something bigger one day. Hopefully this experience will help me. I’m grateful to have this opportunity.

DAY THIRTY-THREE—

Pony Express allowed a maximum of five hours of sleep to their employees on haul. During those five hours, the Tulpar was shadowed by a veil of utter stillness. A silence not too dissimilar to that of a library, or that painful pause in awkward conversation. It was too quiet, which led you to stare at the ceiling until the fatigue of work or boredom got the better of you. Even when you could fall asleep, it was far from restful. Over the past month you had gotten the worst sleep of your entire life thus far. Worse than when you lived in those co-ed dorms with unruly neighbors and argumentative hallways. Worse than those nights thunder cracked down from the darkened sky and you clutched stuffed animals in your chubby, child hands. After a certain point, you had given up on finding sleep at all.

The computer screens within the cockpit would beep on occasion, the sound barely audible over the soft plucking of guitar strings in your headphones. The coords of some old folk song filled your ears instead. You sat in the captain's chair, curling in on yourself with your knees to your chest and arms around your person. Your head snuggled into the dip in your legs, cheek pressed your knee cap as you stared at the sea of glowing green.

Curly had given you permission not too long ago to sit in the cockpit at night. Within the first month of your apprenticeship, you had grown on him quite a bit. The captain had always been a kindhearted person. He was a people pleaser to his core, a man simply happy to help. Curly saw a lot of himself in you, and he knew what it was like to feel, well, restless.

“As long as you promise not to touch anything,” he had said, prefacing his next words with a comforting smile, “you have my permission to use your clearance to the cockpit at night. But if word gets to the higher ups, they’ll have my head, understood? We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Normally, you tried to pay attention to how long you had been sitting there, keeping track of each song that played to count the minutes as they passed, but tonight you hadn’t. With a sigh, you reluctantly stood from Curly’s chair, deciding to give sleep another try. You slipped your Walkman into the pocket of your pajama pants and left the cockpit. Each step you took was quiet, almost imperceivable, as you walked down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. You didn’t want to disturb the others, although you had a feeling nobody else was sleeping all that well either. The rusted, trusty pipes groaned as you passed, their settling moans somehow bypassing the volume of your music. It made you feel uneasy. You reached into your pocket and turned the music up a bit in an attempt to drown out the sound. 

Rounding the corner, you finally reached the door to the sleeping quarters. Just as you reached for the door handle, it slid open seemingly on its own, causing you to flinch. Standing there—holding a flashlight in one hand and with the other placed against his chest—was Daisuke, looking far more caught off guard than you felt. You winced as he shined the light directly into your eyes.

“Holy shit, dude,” he breathed, voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “You straight up scared the hell out of me. What are you doing walking around in the dark?” Daisuke adjusted his aim and shot the beam at the ceiling instead, creating enough light for the two of you to see each other a little better.

With a soft laugh, you pulled your headphones from your ears, allowing them to hang around the back of your neck. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You too?” Daisuke questioned.

“I’m surprised anyone can sleep on this thing,” you whispered. “Where are you going?”

His eyes dropped in embarrassment as he used his free hand to rub nervous circles against the side of his neck. “I’m… I’m grabbing a snack from the lounge. You wanna come?”

“Yeah, if you want me to.” You didn’t hesitate. Anything sounded better than tossing and turning. You stepped to the side, permitting him enough space to walk out of the doorway then alongside you.

Daisuke breathed a chuckle at your response. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

“Then I guess I’m coming,” you said in a hushed, playful tone.

Daisuke looked at you with a smile and nodded, shining his flashlight down the hall as the two of you began to walk in silence. In the quiet of the hall, the door to the lounge seemed to open with a deafening wheeze. Deep, royal blue illuminated the large room. The night-time window screen displayed a starry sky with wisp-like clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly glow. It reminded you of going to the aquarium as a kid, surrounded by water and the smell of saltwater. You half expected to look up and see sharks and fish swimming overhead, but you knew all there would be was a dull, blank ceiling and slumbering lights.

Daisuke stuck his head through the doorway, peeking to see if anyone was already inside. When he determined that the coast was clear—although it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering the noise of the door, he motioned for you to follow him inside.

“Hell yeah! The place is ours,” Daisuke celebrated, speaking louder once the door closed behind you two. He walked toward the vending machines with long, intentional strides. You tread on his heels, gaze fixed on him in amusement as he looked over the different options. 

You pulled your Walkman from your pocket, then leaned against the bar, palms pressed to the countertop as you pushed yourself up, and took a seat on the cool, brown laminate. “Is there normally someone else here?”

“Hmm?” He barely heard you, too fixated on what he was going to eat. As he processed what you had said, the words loading behind his eyes in a turning spiral, he ordered a pack of freeze-dried fruit and tore into the package. “Oh, nah. Not usually. I mean, I’ve seen Anya in here once or twice, but she’s always coming from medical bay. Getting coffee for those late nights, I guess.”

“She works too much,” you noted. “I wish she wouldn’t push herself like that.”

“You two seem close.” Daisuke approached, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Yeah. You could say that.” A tender smile graced your lips at the thought of you and Anya being close.

There was a pause, a brief lull in the otherwise newborn conversation. A series of crunches sounded from your right where Daisuke stood as he popped piece after piece into his mouth. You glanced over at him, the tenderness of your smile warping into something more entertained. He glanced over at you in turn, his mouth full of apple as he mustered a lopsided smile.

“Hey, it’s your Walkman,” he exclaimed after a swallow, pointing at the dated tech in your lap. “Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh,” you peeped with a suddenly flustered look on your face. “It’s a mix my mom made for me. Just a bunch of old folk stuff she used to play for me when I was little.”

“Can I listen?” he asked, shoving another piece of fruit in his mouth.

“S-Sure, yeah.” You unplugged your headphones and played the tape. It crackled, the old speaker not what it used to be. Or what it ever was, truthfully.

Maybe the quality of the sound would have bothered somebody else, but not Daisuke. As your small corner of the lounge filled with the sound of guitar—the stories of rural towns, first loves, and early mornings, Daisuke set his snack on the counter and listened intently. It was far from what he’d normally like, but something about listening to it here, with you made it sound perfect.

“It’s funny, actually. I never used to like this stuff back on Earth, but lately this is the only one I want to listen to,” you said over the music.

“You must really miss her.” Daisuke inched closer, standing less than a foot away from you as he leaned against the counter. His gaze flickered up to your face, quietly admiring the curves and arches of your profile. Under the blue light of the night time window screen, any blemish or imperfection on your face seemed to vanish. Not that he had ever noticed any imperfections on you. Matter of fact, for some reason, he couldn’t imagine seeing any part of you as imperfect. Even if he tried. There was a somber look in your expression as he spoke, one that made his stomach twist in knots.

“So much. I didn’t think it would be this hard being away from home.” Your voice was just above a whisper now. You felt your eyes begin to burn, the familiar sensation of tears welling in the corners as you tried to suppress the ebbing flow. With the shake of your head, you let out a quick laugh, feeling the tension gradually lifted from your shoulders. “What kind of music do you like?”

Daisuke didn’t blink or care about the change in discussion. He didn’t care about what the two of you talked about, and he wasn’t going to pry either. He knew that you would open when you felt comfortable enough to do so, and he was happy to wait however long that would take.

“A bit of everything, I guess. It kinda pisses me off when people say that and, like, they don’t actually mean it.” He slid his snack off of the bar and extended it to you, shaking it as the pieces inside rattled against each other. “I have a pretty impressive vinyl collection back home. Got everything from Etta James to Duster. You should see it sometime.”

Weakly, you smiled and took a piece of the fruit from the package. “Maybe when all of this is said and done. After the haul?”

“I’d love that,” Daisuke responded quickly, eyes trailing over your face. After another moment of silence, a brief break in conversation, he shifted on his heels and looked away. “So, you uh… you got anyone waiting for you back home? Y’know, like friends? A boyfriend? Or uh, a girlfriend? If you, like, swing that way or whatever. Which would be totally cool, obviously. I’ve got a bunch of gay friends-”

“Daisuke,” you said with a hint of that ever familiar amusement in your voice. “Relax, okay?”

He looked back at you and nodded. “Right, yeah… So, do you?”

“Friends? Yeah, a bunch. I miss them too. But a partner, not so much…” You felt your cheeks light up, a soft pink flush dusting the peaks of your cheekbones and the ridge of your nose.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he responded, bumping shoulders with you and trying not to sound too happy about your response. “Me neither. I mean, like I said, I’ve got loads of friends. Just not the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing.”

“Look at us,” you mused. “One in the same.”

“Yup, one in the same.” Daisuke glanced back at you hopefully, then looked away. He downed the rest of his dried fruit and crumpled up the package, tossing it in the direction of a nearby trashcan and missing by a couple feet. He winced, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You gonna go get that?” you asked jokingly, pushed yourself from the countertop, and landed on your feet, securely tucking your Walkman back into your pocket as the music stopped.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and walked toward the trash before picking it up and disposing of it properly. “It’s on the way out anyway. In fact, I meant to do that.”

You trailed after him, following close behind as the two of you approached the exit to the lounge. “Totally,” you teased, smiling up at him.

Yet again, the door slid open with that deafening screech as Daisuke and you left the lounge. Together, you walked back to the sleeping quarters. At the door, Daisuke turned to you and stopped. His brown eyes trailed over your features once more in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of the flashlight in his hands. Even in the blackness of the hallway, his smile was bright. His gap-toothed grin seemed almost bright enough to flood the entire hallway with light.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he spoke quietly.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you responded.

Daisuke opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words he wanted to say seemed caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded and displayed that same smile. Your brows furrowed questioningly, an expression that made his heart skip a bit. Before you could say anything, he opened the door to the sleeping quarters and ushered you inside.

“Goodnight, [Name]. See ya in the morning.” He bit his lip, walking backward toward his room and nearly stumbling when he reached the door.

“Sweet dreams, Daisuke.” 

With that, you slipped into your room with a strange feeling in your chest. A tightness you hadn’t felt since high school, since hallway crushes and etching names into wooden picnic tables. An ache at the loss of his presence. How strange.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pookies (taglist): @xcryptk33p3rx @freakyydaisukee @sanctuaryofsmartiess @st4rrysblog @academiq @c4t-n1pp @iiveraii

[sunnysidesevenup]

Uncaring of everyone’s opinion, except yours.

Part 9!

prev. | Part 1

some additional notes for the people who are extra curious about what goes on in my head I guess, lmao

I’m always unsure if some of the more subtle emotions and aspects of their relationship is making it through lol, cause I don’t include a ton of inner thought bubbles. I mean, this is technically a pretty simple comic, so idk. case in point, Neige’s genuine admiration for Arlo, who is very much “himself” at all times regardless of what people think. Yeah, he’s pretty insecure, but only about specific things—and in general, he does what he wants. I think this is a quality that would be admired by someone who is essentially in the Hollywood industry lmao.

Arlo also isn’t a very good liar, nor does he even attempt to be half the time. He’s very genuine. Just because half the things he says are insults doesn’t mean he’s not being honest, and in fact, he’s VERY nice to people who he wants to be nice to. There’s no effort to pretend for some sort of “reputation” or something. He doesn’t bother to change how he treats Neige while Vil is around, either. It’s not even something that crossed his mind. (Which is VERY weird for Vil. Where has the Arlo he knows gone. What has happened to him.)

I’m a huge fan of relationships that fill in some of the pieces the other person is missing, so the idea of Neige helping Arlo interact with people a little less harshly just by being around him is very appealing to me. Don’t misunderstand, Neige doesn’t want to change him at all!! Arlo just feels happier being with him, so he’s automatically a little softer and more willing to give people a chance. And on Neige’s end, he actually goes the opposite route, and is willing to express himself negatively a bit more (which I very much view as something he struggles with. If you’re in the Hollywood industry, and you grew up poor, and it’s literally your income to support your family, you’re going to be on edge and try to keep up an image. Even if you’re genuinely a nice person, which he is, celebrities don’t get treated like people most of the time!!!) I just love the idea of them helping each other. but to other people it looks like the other’s personality is rubbing off on them lmao 😭

oops I rambled more than I thought. just. I like relationship analysis guys. this isn’t even half of my thoughts on their dynamic and why they’d fall for each other 😭 help

[sheepispink]

A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

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Masterlist AO3

pairings: Simon Ghost Riley/ Reader (platonic or romantic, up to you)

tags: probably loads of military inaccuracies, anxiety attacks (possibly?), heavy angst, angst and comfort, paranoia, bad mental health, cuddling and literal sleeping together (up to you romantic or platonic)

A/N: I’d appreciate if no one complained abt the accuract/realistic of the story (ofc if its the characterisation of ghost that’s perfectly ok!) i’m open for criticisation for how i write etc etc but this is a sensitive topic and.. based off personal experiences 😅😅 so it’s very realistic to me even if its not to you!

This technically takes place after this fic but it’s not a big deal in which the order you read it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re an introvert, even if you do get excited really quickly, loud around people you’ve known for a while and love meeting new people. Yet still, you call yourself an introvert, even if that technically still makes you an extroverted introvert. You don't like the sound of an extrovert— someone who thrives off of others' attention and loves to be the center of it, who brightens their days with their friends and always wants to make plans with anyone and everyone. You like the attention sometimes; when Price mentions your name in a conversation, praising your skills, your heart thumps a little louder. Being at the limelight of the party isn't always the worst thing either, especially when everyone laughs at your jokes so hard they double over, grinning so wide you can't help it either. You love your friends, your teammates, even the random soldiers you’ve only exchanged small greetings with. The love for others is held tight in your heart’s vessels, bursting each and every time they make you smile or you just see their presence. You feel so warm and alive when you give them a grin in the mornings, even more so when they seek out your presence throughout the day.

Though, that only applies sometimes— never always.

A familiar soldier could ask you out to lunch and yet your chest begins to twist uncomfortably, like someone is wringing your intestines with their hands. Something screams at you when they say those words, like an invisible line had just been crossed that had been clear in everyone's heads. You had only ever spoken to those soldiers in the gym or around base, there was nowhere else even remotely personal you’d think to take them to. One on one conversations were not common either, since it wasnt that often. It’s not that you don't like them, it’s just.. not right. You’d shake your head apologetically as you force an excuse between your teeth. The regret you then express is a lie, along with the love you felt before— only reduced to a being who could never hold any of those things.

The truth is, you have a sick little parasite in you, it claws at that heart muscle, tearing away the flesh and devouring any love you feel for the people you care about and replacing it with an empty feeling which is always followed by an unreasonable hatred. Your mind grows dark, headaches permanent, as you live through the day as a skeleton of yourself— no longer able to hold any love within you as it slips past your bones in seconds. You don't like the boundaries you’ve mentally set for each person to be crossed, even if it’s a perfectly normal task. In fact, some may even say you’re scared of change. You don’t like to put a label on these things, hell you don't even like to think too hard on these things. It begins to make sense when you sit and reflect, piecing all the reasons for your behaviour together until you hit the final point. Soon you’re done, finally aware of the most significant reasoning behind your antics. The only issue is, being self aware doesn't mean you get any better; no matter how many nights you sit and stare at that mirror, nothing changes.

The only thing you gained was the ability to squash down the parasite from prying eyes. Excuses fall from your lips quickly, no matter how bad you feel when they give you that look of disappointment. It’s not your fault— you know you won't be able to handle an outing like that, you’d get too worked up. Why? You don't need to dwell on it, not right now. This continues for multiple people, multiple soldiers for two weeks, until you're ‘normal’ and you hang around others again. People begin to subconsciously catch on and so your little routine continues to carry on moving so well, staying right on track.

“Sarge? You aint comin’ to team night? Why?”

Ghost stands at the door of your quarters, dressed in his typical training attire whilst you’re sitting in something cozy, made for home wear. You have to fight the urge to cover yourself up. “Oh right.. i, uh..yknow, lot of paperwork to do. Thought i’d stay in.”

You say with a small smile, attempting to ease any concerns he had before but little did you know, he was already growing aware of your little issue, or at least the fact there was one within you. “Paperwork? On a Friday? You should be relaxin’.” You grit your teeth a little, the burning urge inside of your chest returning just like the sick pit in your stomach. It felt so awful fearing just a simple team night out, but it was just so late and you were so tired— you didnt have the energy to be rational the whole time, to think of your next move constantly.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll come to the next one.” You shrug, turning back to your small desk as you pull another small stack of papers in front of you. His boots thump loudly against the floorboards, sounding like the heavy thump of your heart in your ears. It stops, suddenly, behind your back and your body stiffens as he leans down, looking at the paperwork you’re going through. It’s a lie— naturally, you finished it all. He doesn't even have to stare at you first nor visibly raise a brow; you’re already waiting for him to call out your bluff just as quickly.

“You can just say you want some time alone, yknow.” That catches you off guard, half expecting him to just tell you to stop whining and grab some drinks. His words were still difficult though, how could you easily just say that? Of course, the words itself aren't the hard part, nor speaking it—it’s the implications behind said words. An excuse means you have other things to occupy you, so no one dares to disturb you much after that, however explaining you want some alone time gives way to more questions. Specifically the first being: why? Then they begin to wonder if you’ve been doing okay recently or if you’re struggling with something. You dont like the idea of that at all— people thinking about you in that way. It feels weird, almost like it’s wrong. Sometimes you wished people would just not care, and leave you alone to wallow with yourself.

“Sarge?” You snap out of it, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as he still stands behind you and you turn in your chair, putting the best meek face you can on for the night. “What? No, that’s not why I declined. I’m not really feeling any alcohol today and a new episode of a series I previously binged on the weekend just came out. Sorry.. didn't want to make it seem i was ditching anyone for a show.” Perfect, an awkward grin had tied it all off into a well constructed excuse. Even if it was partially true and this really wasn't fake, it sure felt like everything you did was an act. After all, you really didn't want them to think you were ditching anyone, and you didn't feel like having any alcohol tonight. “A new series” He says gruffly, and you nod with a tight smile, teeth gritting so hard you’re sure they’ll break in a few seconds. “I’ll join you then.”

You blink once, twice, three times in pure utter confusion. Ghost—The Ghost, whose name is rumoured across the battlefield and known for never giving into idle small talk—wants to watch the series you lied about, with you.

You’ve never felt more guilty in your entire life, practically fumbling for a solution. You could just tell the truth, say no and admit you needed to be alone. But this is the first time he’s ever expressed wanting to hang around you, actually together and alone— and miss out on a team night?! He may just want an excuse out of it, but still, you can't just say no now. “Well yeah, i just..” You hate how there’s no easy way out of this in the slightest, torn between saving your own mental health or finally getting close to the teammate who you’ve been on eggshells around for nearly a year now. “My room’s not exactly clean--“

He cuts you off with a gruff, shake of his head, a scoff resounding in his next words, promptly embarrassing you too. “There ya go— knew you wanted to be alone.”

You fumble, not understanding how he managed to pry it out of you so fast, just a simple lie blowing your cover. “I said it wasn't like-“

“See you tomorrow.” He’s gone just as fast as he silenced you, heavy footsteps disappearing out of your door and down the corridors. What you couldn't wrap your head around is how fast he had figured it out and made you confess to your lies that fast— it was a real problem, something you couldn't just let slide. If he knew, did others too?

Unfortunately for you, the very much needed alone time didn’t help as well as it usually did considering this new information has threatened everything that made up the core of your very being—specifically everything keeping you glued together. You just couldn't sit there and possibly relax like you usually did when alone (more specifically think over everything you’ve done wrong until you quite literally fell asleep mid thought)— not when Ghost could clearly read everything you had ever thought about in your life.

That being said, you’ve been a nervous wreck all week, concentrating so hard on looking sane that you’ve barely paid a second of attention to things you should’ve listened to. It’s not like you slipped up regularly, but before that day you were already feeling pretty uneasy and now with still no relief and the added stress, you feel like you really might lose it any second now. Every time you see him, every word exchanged with your teammates—with another person—it eats at you, tugging further on the ropes you’re hanging onto. They’re already been pulled thin, especially since you’ve been put in charge of a group of rookies for the past few weeks now. Of course, you had pulled the short straw when assignments went round because not only did your group love to talk back, but they loved to test every limit by asking the most stupid of questions possible. It’s the second time now you’ve had to lecture one of the rookies about why you can’t just ‘throw a grenade at the enemies’. It’s only temporary, just basic training exercises and medical procedures they need to know until the Officer, who usually oversees them, returns from their sick leave.

You let out a long breath as you enter the small break room, also known as taskforce 141’s meeting room but they’ve let you lounge in here too many times to count. It’s quiet in here, Soap and Gaz both on missions and you assume Ghost must be too. It’s the first time you’ve been able to relax all week, knowing damn well Price is down in London with Gaz. Your shoulders sag, the miserable look returning to cover your features now that you don't need to pull that tight smile anymore. Your chest physically aches from how anxious you’ve been all day, the weight of the day’s mistakes and fears of the future swelling deep in your gut. You know it’s a Friday, know you should just take a long sleep but you can’t help but think about all you have to do for the days to follow. You’re busy the whole day tomorrow, a team outing you can’t deny no matter how much you really do not want to go. Just thinking of all the final work you’ll have to cram in on Sunday makes a splitting pain run along the bumps in your brain. Even your breaths begin to feel shorter, an uncomfortable feeling that you just still cant rid of no matter how long you take deep breaths. Your eyes are weighed down with exhaustion and yet your brain refuses to let you sleep yet. No, you cannot. If you sleep the night away then you’ll only have Sunday left for yourself, and that won't work out, will it?

You pick up the mug you had just stirred, hoping the drink would soothe at least something if not your dehydrated body. Taking a small sip, the hot liquid spills down your throat, leaving a warm feeling in your ribs. “Alone by choice or force?” A gruff voice rings out behind you, along with an arm reaching around to supposedly grab a teabag as well, is enough to make you flinch. Stumbling on your own feet, your mug jolts and the steaming water splashes against your shoulder. If you were worried about someone catching you so vulnerable before, you were certainly terrified now, especially since your skin was burning from a small startle.

“Fuck— sorry—“

Ghost’s gloved hand settle on one side of your waist while the other quickly takes the mug from your hands and places it upon the counter. You cant respond, barely processing the situation and everything just feels like too much and your skin feels so hot, you know he’s seeing you fall apart and still there’s nothing you can do—

Your thoughts snap to a blank when he presses the cold rag against your burning skin. Thankfully the layers of the training uniform stops any severe marks from forming. His other hand rubs your cheek, his mask so close it could brush your face, and you can actually see every speck of brown in his irises. You can't look at him for long though, moving your gaze away quickly, not when you know what you’ve done. For the past week or two you’ve hated him, painting the most horrible picture in your mind. It wasnt even on purpose, you’ve just started seeing everything wrong about him. He doesnt give the rookies much mercy, nor does he particularly entertain any of Soap’s antics even when the situation is pretty lax. He’s boring, he seems to care about nothing but himself somedays, he refuses to let you do something stupid and he never takes that damn mask off even when you’re all supposed to trust one another. You’ve lied to him, yes, forgetting about your hatred when he made you laugh with those gruff remarks. But he’s not the only one— no, you’ve began to hate everyone in this task force, picking at them and every little thing. It’s weird, you don't want to victimize yourself, because you know you’ve done just as much wrong too. But still, somedays you really can't look past the list of things you dislike about your own friends.

“Are you alright? I havent seen you all week.”

Of course he hasn't, you’ve been avoiding them all. It’s nearly impossible to think straight these days and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it so naturally, you just stayed away. The more you did it, the better it began to feel. Avoiding them was the solution— you were just the thorn in their side with your tricky mood swings and anxiety always painting them to be the villain. You couldnt just allow this to happen, to destroy them with your issues even if they had no idea about it.

But now, face to face with him, all you feel is unexplainable guilt for everything you’ve done to them— how could you even hate them for a second? His hand is still rubbing at your skin, nudging your face gently upwards just so you’d at least look at him for a second. “Really? The silent treatment now?.” He sighs and you hate yourself, how did you let this spiral to this point— to where he’s apologising to you and yet you wish you could just disappear. Isnt this what you wanted? For everyone to be kind to you? So why are you running— why do you refuse care?

Your lips press together as your teeth bite down on the soft flesh, torn from how much you’ve picked at the skin the whole week. It aches with anxiety, and your teeth hurt from how often you’ve clenched them so hard they scraped against eachother. The only thing you can do is stand there as Ghost fusses over you, trying to get you to move a damn muscle instead of falling apart silently like some kind of broken watch, unable to move forward or backwards. Just still.

“Sarge— snap out of it, look, I'm sorry. Okay?”

His hands are still on you, and you’ve begged for a day where someone would care this much about you and still, you step back, almost afraid. “I’m sorry, Ghost.” You croak out, your hands reaching up to your eyes as you wipe at your skin obsessively, trying to hide and stop anything from leaking. “Why’re you apologising?” He says gruffly, confused by all of this, this sudden onslaught of emotion.

He’s not stupid, he had a feeling you weren't quite yourself this week. Stupidly, he figured you’d just deal with it on your own. That's what everyone did, right? He knows he just takes a breather when he feels a little rough— even Price had his own battles. Comfort isn't a strong point for Ghost, not even when he was Simon Riley, never has and he never thinks it will be. He’s born and bred on violence and the coldness that comes after it, the lack of warmth even as hot blood trickles and emptiness consumes the space where his fellow soldiers should be. So watching you crumble right before him, apologising profusely while your body wracks with shaken breaths, makes something stop in him too. He doesn't know how he’ll do it, but he knows damn well no one fights alone anymore.

“Look at me.”

He says firmly, both his hands landing firmly on your shoulders, one hand even tempted to just force your chin up but you shake your head profusely. “Why not?” He stays patient for you, even if he knows he may have to force you soon— its the least he can do for you. “I cant look at you. Not after everything i did.” He pauses, hands now settling on your jaw in confusion, he knows this is moving towards an interrogation but he has to know. “What are you talking about?! What did you do?”

“I hated all of you! I avoided you all and destroyed our relationship, i fucked it all up.”

With that he cant stand to see this continue, a gloved hand firmly planted over your mouth as the other wraps around your back. He leads you to the couch even as you squirm, not caring in the slightest. He knows he has strength and not comfort, so he’ll use it to shut you up whilst the truth comforts you instead.

“Look at me.” He says sternly and you do, eyes snapping up with wide fear as you look at him. “That’s not true— okay? None of us consider our relationship with you ruined, not one of us has even mentioned you in a bad light at all.” He makes sure your whole body is pressed against the back of the couch, considering that you didnt particularly look as if you could hold yourself up right now.

“Soap has only talked to me about you once recently— he told me you helped him organize the training schedules for the rookies. Told me to thank you for it because he felt he did not express his gratitude enough. Do you understand now? No one’s mad at you– not one of us have even considered anything to have gone wrong.”

His hand grabs your own, settling it on the center of his chest so you can feel the pattern of his breathing, silently praying you’d try and match it. You can only blink at him though, slowly processing his words with each passing second until his hand leaves your mouth and your lips part, breath hitched before you swallow a sharp breath. “I’ve avoided all of you– i’ve been hating all of you.” You choke out, chest clenching with regret and the weight of unreasonable guilt and his other hand moves to hold your face again, his brown eyes piercing into yours with his silence.

“What is like to hate someone?”

“What?”?

“What is it like to hate someone?” He repeats, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your cheek.

“I-...” You falter, thinking for a moment before your lips part again. “I dont like things that they do— the way they act and everything about them.”

“You’d avoid them too, right? Like that general you hated. Remember when he touched you and you pushed his hand away?

You nod along in agreement, breathing a bit slower to hopefully ease the pressure on your chest at the moment.

“Y-yeah.. i’d express my dislike clearly..”

“So why did you never push me away the past few weeks? You said you avoided us, but you would always speak to us if we needed to. You still helped Soap too.”

You pause, blinking at him in confusion now, you had convinced yourself that you hated them so why did you never.. actually express it?

“You’re also letting me touch you now and last week you didn't want to hang out with us, but you didnt want to hurt our feelings by saying that.”

You’re left silent, baffled and confused because in your head, you were being horrible to them, hating their guts like it was nothing.

“I think… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” He says slowly, tapping at your forehead gently as you look up at him with widened eyes. “You’ve held it in for too long. You’ve dwelled on those thoughts, so self aware of your own anxieties that you’ve distorted reality. You think you’ve done something bad, because you can't understand why you always feel so bad.” His voice is softer than usual, even if his words are still gruff and holds his thick Manchester accent.

Somehow that alone reminds you that Simon has never lied, not even once, to you. That stern voice of his is straightforward, doesnt mess around and forces his way through any problem. Just like he had just pushed himself to the root of your mind and destroyed your seeds of doubt.

“You’re allowed to talk to us you know. I have a funny feeling you’re scared o’ somethin’. Not sure what just yet.”

He doesnt force you to respond, just speaking his thoughts even if that’s what you usually do when you’re together. The couch creaks as he stand up, pulling you to get up aswell beside him. He places a hand on the crook of your back, gently encouraging you to begin walking towards the door. “Cmon, back to my room. Lets get you cleaned up properly.”

Before you know it, you’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, something you had only felt months ago when you first came here, scared and confused over a stupid hornet. You trusted him to help you then, but you dont understand why you suddenly felt that fear again. Meanwhile, your shirt is half off, Ghost sat on the bed beside you as he inspects the burns on your chest from the tea. It’s harsh, the skin reddened but not enough to be something serious thankfully. He presses a cool towel against it, soothing the stinging skin but he knows it’ll fade out soon enough. You’re wearing his old shirt, and he gave you some comfortable sweatpants too for good measure. You just watch all his moves so quietly, feeling like a ghost yourself in this moment from how detached you are. It’s weird, feeling so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Nothing too bad, should be alright by the morning.” He hums, lifting the fresh mug of tea he brewed for you and brings it to your lips for you to sip before he steals some for himself. “Is your chest still tight?” You blink, not expecting him to ask that of all things because you hadnt exactly mentioned that part and yes, it was. “How did you know..?” Your hand reaches out, silently asking for more of the tea he graciously lets you sip, unable to fathom how he brews it so perfectly each time. “You were clutching at your chest before and your breaths are a little shorter than they should be.” He’s seen straight through you again so you slump your shoulders and just nod quietly. “Yeah, it’s really tight. It’s always like this and i dont know how to make it stop.”

His gloved hand reaches out, gently rubbing at your chest thus making you sink a little back into the pillows. Before he can respond, you speak up with a quiet confession. “That day, when you came ‘round, I was upset. You said you wanted to watch the series with me and I felt so bad. I didn't want to give up my only chance of spending time with you, but I knew my head couldn't take it.”

He nods along quietly, letting you reveal it all to him. “T-then you figured me all out and i got scared— i didnt want someone to know everything about me because i didnt want to be a problem. I want someone to listen but i dont want to be seen as something different. I just.. i dont know how to handle all of this. I dont feel like the person i am when i look in the mirror.”

The strangest thing of all is that it didnt actually take you long to figure it out. You knew all along, of course, but when you’re fighting against yourself, you’re supporting both sides and so a part of you decided not to dwell on a certain bit of information too much. The reason for that to be pushed aside is no part of you wanted to face it.

Your heart always secretly wished someone would find out— that someone would push past the walls you’ve banged so hard against even if they were crafted by the webs of your brain. You prayed and prayed that they’d read through it all, express their concern and one day, one day you’d be saved from this hellish feeling. It was a common daydream for you and yet you were terrified of it. If someone knew, there was no guarantee they’d follow the fantasy. They could ridicule you, or they couldnt be able to comfort you at all, maybe they’d try and it wouldnt even do anything or maybe, just maybe— they wouldnt give a damn about it. What happened then? If that daydream was real, and that was the final outcome, there was no turning back in time. It seemed like only one person would ever figure you out, after all, no one had up until this point.

But then Simon became aware, and you got terrified. You hid away because you were too scared to know his reaction to your problems, even more so his reaction to you. You wanted someone to help, you really did, and yet your brain feared to know the uncertain future of it.

His ungloved hands card through your hair, the callouses gentle against your scalp as he slowly scratches at it. “You need to speak with us, and the others. Your feelings are real— hell, we all have our doubts. I used to feel it before every mission. Soap began to tell me his, then Gaz joined too. Price always looks for a way to solve it, and i give my two pence when i feel i want to. Just cause you feel different, doesnt mean you are. Plenty o’ people felt the same way you did before.”

“Really..? I’m not like.. crazy?”

“No, never. Even if you do some stupid shit sometimes.”

That makes you finally crack a real smile, even if its small and you’re unable to stifle the small chuckle that bubbles in your throat and although he’s the epitome of stoicism, he smiles beneath the mask. “Everyone’s out on a mission, ya can't leave me alone tonight. C’mere.”

You settle yourself in the crook of arm as he lays back against the bed with you, propping up his laptop on his lap as he searches for a good movie.

“You better report back to me everyday this week, alright? I want you here at nine pm sharp, dressed in your pajamas. That’s an order.”

Thinking over all your previous daydreams of how this would eventually go, this was far from how you expected it to be. Firstly, you never expected Ghost, nor it to happen in the military at all. Perhaps you thought maybe later in life it’d occur or maybe Soap or Price would figure it out. Either way, you arent actually upset over it. No one would be your fairy tale saviour in life, coming forward to fight the demons that plagued your head all the time. Even so, the way Ghost had shut you up and calmed you down makes you think he’s pretty damn close to being one, even if knights usually dont scoff at their princess.

He doesnt even look like he’d be willing to give a little kid a hug, but still, you couldnt be happier with how this turned out in the end. Compared to fairytale princes and men in the movies, you knew Ghost and you knew he was serious— so if he wanted to help you, he would. And no, he wouldnt ridicule you throughout the process, nor ever feel like you’ve been misheard. You know that if you spoke to Ghost, he’d listen earnesty and never forget, carrying that around with him even if those anxieties eventually died out.

You knew he’d always linger around, never forgetting you or leaving you behind. Just like a Ghost.

“Okay, i promise i will.”

You say softly, pressing your cheek against the curve of his chest, the faint thump of his heartbeat drowning out any lost thoughts. He was your support, and no matter how bad it got for you, no matter how many times you get overwhelmed and lash out, not even when you avoid everyone— he’d never break away. No, he would always be beside you.

[avelera]

This.

There’s also a big theme around disarmament. It’s flat out said in the “To Ashes and Blood” lyrics from 2.03 “Every sin will be forgiven if you lay down your weapons to the ground.”

I’ve been keeping an eye out for if this theme holds true through the show on my rewatch and I think it is pretty consistent as a narrative morality point. Disarmament is rewarded. It doesn’t fix everything, but it deescalates the situation and allows good things to happen to the character.

A great example is “Warwick’s” reunion with Vi. Had she kept fighting, it wouldn’t have happened and more people she loves would have been hurt. Instead, she literally lowers her weapons to the ground and is rewarded by the narrative for that choice. I’m not sure if the rule is ironclad but it is very consistent throughout Arcane.

I think something I actually really appreciate for some reason about Arcane is that it’s got all these big cool weapons that it’s very happy to throw under the bus. The way all of the Hextech weapons malfunction in awkward ways in the big pivotal emotional s2 ep3 fight. The way Vi and Jayce are set up for an epic moment with the hammer in s2 ep1 and undercut by the fact they miss. Jayce’s first outing with the hammer undermined by the fact he accidentally kills a child with it. The way they hyped up a fight between Jayce and his hammer and Vi and her gauntlets (that a lesser show would have had happen for the visual alone) only to have Jayce decide not to fight. The way Vi wins her s1 finale fight with Sevika using a function of the gauntlets she didn’t seem to realise they had. All the way back to the monkey bomb that went so spectacularly wrong. Like it really highlights the way the main priority is the writing and the characters, and yeah they’ll throw in a funky looking weapon shot because of course they will it’s a video game adaptation but they never miss an opportunity to yeet that coolness under the bus in favour of the shows actual messages and themes, and to show that the characters are human and fallible. They almost use the fact that the audience is primed to look at the weapons in order to deliberately swap them out suddenly with what the story is actually about

[karaeilishh]

have you ever tried this one?

dom!sabrina carpenter x sub!fem!reader

warnings: smut, strap, oral, degradation?, mommy kink, hella teasing

a/n - some of you wanted a switch!sabrina and i’m gonna write for her later, but for now just enjoy sucking her strap

inglewood was a nondescript town you always wanted to see. see with your girlfriend, holding hands and entwining your fingers. so when you found out that sabrina will be performing in this town in the future, you jumped up excitedly, throwing your arms around her neck and muttering something like, “you’re the best girlfriend ever!”

but here you are, and the days leading up to her concert were too busy with preparation, for you and sabrina to get out of the hotel to go to a restaurant or just take a leisurely stroll around the city together. all you had now were quick kisses before she had to go on stage again and soft cuddles before a three-hour nap and an empty bed the next morning.

you missed sabrina so much. her kisses on your skin, her hands on your body, her sweet voice when she softly moans your name in your ear, her warmth, your little intimate moments, you missed her all. and most of all, the moments when she took control. damn, you love it.

"come on baby…" no matter how little time you spent together, you were grateful to be with your girlfriend during her tour. you could always see her and catch the air kisses she blew you while her makeup artist worked on her makeup. you loved the moments when in a huge crowd, her eyes were glued to you for a few seconds. just a few seconds, but her mind was definitely constantly around you. you knew that no matter how many people she looked at during each concert, eventually her eyes would return to you. and her hands too. at night.

you swallowed hard when you saw sabrina's smile on the big screen at the beginning of ‘juno’. oh, that smile was just for you. you, like all the thousands of fans next to you, could only guess what pose she would show now and it really made you nervous. you needed her so much that you only had to think about it to get excited.

your vision is blurry as she runs to the edge of the stage. your stomach dropped as she knelt down. your mouth went dry as she made those movements with the microphone. sabrina managed to throw you a quick dirty look before continuing to sing, but fuck, you didn’t hear her anymore. you couldn’t hear anything except the frantic beating of your heart. you just need to kneel in front of her and…

“sabrina…” you have no idea how you ended up in a black tinted audi while her driver was driving you to the hotel. sabrina giggled and drew patterns with her manicured fingers on the inside of your thigh, teasing and tickling your milky skin. you instinctively spread your legs, begging her to go further, but she just adjusts your cute black dress that she picked for you by herself, making your pussy literally cry. her hands are no longer on your body when the driver asks her something related to the show. it was torture. "you're acting like a little slut, it's so sweet"

your breath hitched when she whispered those words in your ear. sabrina had always been such a tease, and you kind of got used to it, but now, when you desperately needed her inside you, there was nothing funny about it. now, when she ran her warm tongue over the pulse point on your neck, you thought you would die because of her. for her. for her pleasure, anything, just to get you alone sooner.

“please, brina don’t play with me…” you whine softly into her ear, praying she’ll stop teasing you while her driver talks to your girlfriend, apparently not even noticing that she’s not listening to him anymore, caught up in you and your desperation for her. she giggles sweetly as her hand goes back between your legs, filling the empty space. “what did you say, princess?”

you open your mouth to answer her, but the only thing that comes out is something between a scream and a moan as she presses her fingers harshly against your clit. your face flushes red as the man in the driver’s seat’s gaze shifts to you. “are you okay, ma’am?”

sabrina looks at you so damn innocently it makes your blood boil. “are you okay, ma’am?” the sweet way she says it, the mocking way, it makes you squeeze her hand between your legs. you feel her rings scratching your skin. your voice didn't sound as confident as you'd like. "y-yeah…"

"good girl… keep quiet" yes, mommy.

“sabrina, please…” you whine as she presses kisses and bites to your neck while her hands explore every inch of your body. she told you to take your panties off, just so you could both see your arousal dripping down your thighs. your hands claw at the wall sabrina had you pinned against. this girl was petite, but you were so weak because of her. the fact that she was still wearing high heels made her tower slightly over you, and it was sexy. “please what, princess?”

her whispers against your skin made tears roll down your cheeks. so desperate, but sabrina just smirked, tearing her mouth away from your neck. she looked into your eyes, tilting her head to the side as if studying every emotion on your face. wasn’t it obvious? "and one more thing, it's not sabrina tonight"

you swallow hard, immediately realizing what she means. thank god you took off your heels, because she would have definitely made you fall to the floor. "please, i need you to fuck me…" you look her straight in the eyes as she chuckles at your words, her thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. “mommy?”

"since you're so polite, princess, how could i refuse you?" sabrina winks at you, walking across the room to grab your favorite thing. you lick your lips as you watch her fasten it to her hips. you realize that you're about to be the one doing the pose sabrina did on the show. fuck.

"on your knees, princess" her pink strap fits perfectly on her body as she sways her hips, making her way to the bed. She sits on the edge, spreading her legs demonstratively. Encouraging you to crawl to her like a good puppy. You literally fall at her feet, holding her perfect hips with your hands.

“that’s my good girl. so obedient, mm?” she ran the tip of the strap over your lips, making you open your mouth in anticipation. you wanted to take it in your mouth, but she stopped you. “where’s your manners, sweet girl?” her voice was soft but serious. god, this girl driving you crazy.

“y-yes, im your obedient girl… please, can i suck it?” you squeeze her hips and give her a puppy look. sabrina smiles, enjoying you. she liked to keep such an obedient little girl a secret only for herself. she gathers your hair into a lazy ponytail, just like she did during the concert, bringing your head closer to her strap. "such a greedy, slutty little thing"

you didn't care what she said anymore as her cock filled your mouth. her hand guided your head and you felt the tip of her strap scrape the back of your throat. sabrina moans like she feels everything you do. your eyes as you look at her, the dirty sounds that come from between you and the silicone in your mouth, it all drives her crazy. both of you.

"that's my good girl…" sabrina grips your hair tighter, causing mild pain. you whine, taking more of her strap into your mouth, proving to her that you're her good girl. your drool drips down your chin as sabrina lets you pull your mouth away from her cock. you breathe heavily, looking somewhere at the floor. your arousal drips down your thighs.

"come here, princess. come on mommy's lap" sabrina helps you up and sits you on her thighs. your pussy touches the soft skin of her thigh and you can't help but start riding her. sabrina presses a kiss to your shoulder and then bites, making you sigh. "please mommy…"

it's going to be a long night.

[niceonejames7]

the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER

watermelon pyjamas pt.2

sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1

words: 1.7k

genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.

a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3

.....

“I’m an idiot”

“You're gonna have to elaborate."

“James, please."

Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.

He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.

He entered the room, and sighed.

I'm fucked.

“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.

“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.

“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.

"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.

Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.

The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.

Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.

.

You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.

He knew.

He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.

Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.

……

"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.

You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”

There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."

“Here's the real reason."

Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.

“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."

You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.

“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.

Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,

“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.

He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.

“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.

Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.

Oh no.

He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.

“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.

You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,

“I'm gonna move out."

The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.

“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.

But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.

“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.

A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."

Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.

It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.

“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?

“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"

Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,

“I've been busy-"

“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,

"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,

"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”

Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”

Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.

He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.

“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”

A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.

I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.

“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.

“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.

Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.

"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.

“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.

Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.

A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,

“You’re in love with me.”

Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.

You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.

Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.

In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.

He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.

His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.

“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.

“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."

His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,

“What?"

“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.

“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,

“Sirius, I just kissed you."

“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.

"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.

He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.

All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.

[sukuna-ryo]

Oh wow, thank you so much for taking the time to respond to my post with… all of that. I’m honestly in awe of how you managed to turn a simple expression of excitement for a different type of Sukuna fanfiction into some kind of personal attack. I wasn’t even talking about specific writers or complaining about anyone’s content—I was literally just sharing an idea. But hey, props to you for finding something to get mad about. That’s a talent in itself.

Let’s be clear here: I wasn’t demanding anyone write this for me. I wasn’t critiquing anyone’s work. I wasn’t sitting here throwing shade at writers. I was just sharing what I personally wanted to see in fanfiction, which, last I checked, is what people do in fandom spaces. You know, sharing ideas, connecting over mutual interests—that sort of thing. I didn’t realize I needed to publish a whole novel on Google Docs to be allowed to post. My bad for thinking Tumblr was a space for that.

And honestly, the assumptions you made about me? Impressive. You’ve decided I don’t write, that I’m entitled, and that I’m part of some mythical group of people who do nothing but “complain.” None of which is true, but I can’t help but marvel at how far your imagination took you.

Also, the charm of calling people “corny” while doing exactly what you’re criticizing (complaining about someone’s post) is… unparalleled. I’m sure the irony is totally intentional. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take your wisdom to heart while continuing to use this app however I want, since that’s kind of the point.

But seriously, it’s okay. I get it. You probably had some stuff on your chest, and my post happened to be the outlet for it. Maybe you’re feeling unappreciated, or maybe my excitement rubbed you the wrong way. Whatever it is, I sincerely hope you’re able to work through it. It’s okay, honey. Mummy and daddy love you, even if they didn’t act like it during your childhood. I truly hope this little outburst gave you the attention you’re so clearly craving. I see your pain and I acknowledge your feelings. Therapy could really help—just saying. It seems like a healthier way to process those feelings than trolling random people online.

At the end of the day, though, I’m going to keep sharing my thoughts and enjoying fandom spaces for what they’re meant to be: a place for ideas and connection. And if that bothers you… well, I guess you can keep yelling into the void if it makes you feel better. Wishing you all the best, truly.

(p.s: adding a screenshot of the tags this bbg wrote just in case they decide to delete it)

I'm so sick of sukuna fanfics where the reader is a sweet innocent submissive girl like badgirl reader whennnn! I need a crazy sukuna and a batshit insane reader, someone who matches his freak, someone who's even better at it, someone who lowkey terrifies the king of curses himself! I need a reader who shows this pretty boy what being evil actually is! Give me that!!!!

[ultravioletbrit]

“warn” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 562 words

“James Fleamont Potter!” Regulus bursts into James’ living room.

“What did I do?” James immediately stands up from the couch and is promptly smacked in the chest.

“You didn’t tell me what Barty did.” Regulus snaps.

“Erm…?” James looks at him very confused.

“He gave you the talk.”

“Er, Reg, I already know where babies come from, and we don’t really need to worry about—”

“Not that talk, you idiot. The… the shovel talk… or whatever it’s called.”   

“Oh yeah, he gave me that talk a few weeks ago.” James says simply.

“And why am I just finding out about it now?” James just sort of shrugs, he honestly doesn’t understand why Regulus is so upset. “James!” James gets smacked again but this time he catches Regulus’ wrist and pulls him into his chest.

“Reg, it’s fine. He just wanted to warn me not to hurt you. Which I never would, so it really wasn’t a big deal.” James wraps his arms around Regulus’ waist.

“He said he threatened you.” Regulus pouts.

“Well, yeah. It wouldn’t be much of a warning without a threat. But honestly, his was the least threatening of them all, so—”

Regulus pulls out of James’ arms. “What do you mean ‘of them all’? How many were there?”

“Erm… Three?… and a half?”

“A half?”

“Yeah, there’s Barty, and he just threatened to kill me, so that’s not too bad. Then there’s Sirius and he was a bit scarier, but only because he knows me so well, so he knows what would hurt me the most, and he was not afraid to threaten me with it. Then there’s Remus, but he was sort of half you, half Sirius. He cares about you, so he obviously doesn’t want me to hurt you. But if I did, then Sirius would have to follow through with his threats, so Remus would also have to deal with whatever Sirius-level drama comes after that, and that’s never fun. So, he threatened me half because of you, half because of Sirius. And then…” James feels a literal chill run down his spine. “Well… then there’s… erm… there’s Pandora, and she was truly terrifying.” James finishes with a shiver.

“Pan… Pandora?” Regulus asks and James nods. “Soft, sweet Pandora, whose best friend is a caterpillar, was the most terrifying?”

“Yes!!” James yelps. Regulus gives him an incredulous and slightly amused look. “Have you ever been threatened by Pandora!?” James asks.

“No.” Regulus chuckles.

“I do not recommend it. I had nightmares for a week!” James shivers again just at the thought.

“What did she say to you?”

“I will not repeat that!!” James shrieks. “I’d probably accidentally summon some horrible creature!”

Regulus laughs under his breath and walks over to wrap his arms around James’ neck. James instinctively wraps his around Regulus’ waist, pulling him as close as possible and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I’m sorry they did that to you.” Regulus whispers.

“It’s really okay.” James whispers back. “I was sort of expecting it, and I would’ve been more surprised if they didn’t.” Regulus looks at him curiously. “You have a lot of people who love you, Reg. I knew they’d want to make sure I would never hurt you. And if I ever did, I’d deserve everything Pandora threatened, and more.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, but his cheeks also turn a lovely shade of pink. “You’re ridiculous.” He tells James, pulling him in for a kiss.

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Do SKZ like hickeys? Giving/receiving

Imma be so fr throughout doing this I got ice cream and was eating it like in between pulls and interpretations but it’s part of my artistic process and I’m never turning down an opportunity to mooch off the people around me by having them buy me things

Chan

He doesn’t like giving hickeys because he gets too carried away. It’s like he gets drunk off the experience and like his self control goes through the roof. Seeing his partner like that will make this man FERAL. But it also distracts him from a lot of things, so he’s more lenient on it. He also doesn’t like when his partner (rightfully) covers/hides a hickey. The rational part of him knows why and understands. The irrational part of him thinks it’s because they’re ashamed of him or something. And that makes him very volatile. He also just feels like giving hickeys is very impulsive in and of itself. Like people don’t think when they do it they just do. And he’s not that type of person. Though he fantasizes about giving hickeys he never would.

He likes receiving them. Practically he can’t most of the time unless they’re on places he wouldn’t show because he’s an idol. But he loves it when it’s someone he trusts. But they have to work for it. Chan went all emo though so like…Hickey trauma? Sad because of a lack of hickeys? “Everything makes me think of him/her?” Idk what it’s about but like he’s sad about it. But yeah he has to regulate himself and set rules for whoever’s giving them like “You can only put them here here” or if he knows he’ll be performing with a shirt off he has to make sure it’s below the belt. I was abt to ask a very serious question of the audience but this isn’t the time nor place so imma move on. Afterwards he always needs to lay back and self reflect on what the hell happened. Having hickeys on him just genuinely makes him very smug. Like “Yeah my partner wants me bitches” or something.

Minho

Literal legend by Ayesha Erotica came on as soon as I went to pull for this. Minho the man you are

ANYWAYS.

He loves giving hickeys. He gives them enthusiastically. They’re a requirement when he’s getting down and dirty with someone he’s in a relationship with. Or even when he’s bored and suddenly feeling “inspired” or feels the urge to. He’s very open-minded and fair when it comes to it, so yeah already getting he probably will let his partner give him one too. He’s also aware that having hickeys on too obvious places may ruin people’s perceptions on whoever he gives it to so he tries to make them in places easily hidden by clothing. And will respect it if they ask him not to. Actually scratch the relationship thing he gives random flings hickeys too with 0 shame. He’s very disciplined with it though. But he’ll also give as many as he can. He also likes giving them wherever he can.

He honestly would let someone give him hickeys if he wasn’t an idol. But he doesn’t want to deal with the stress that would come with them accidentally being seen. He’s very logical in that aspect. In theory he’d love it but solely in theory. But sometimes if his partner gets lucky he’ll let them leave them on like his inner thighs or something. It’ll be quite an achievement though.

Changbin

He likes giving hickeys. He’s like Chan when it comes to getting lost in it. Addicted to it. Having little self control when it comes to leaving them all over. He likes to indulge in it. Definitely the type that has the decorum not to leave them on the neck but shoulders and collarbones are his favorite places to leave them. He fantasizes about it even. And he likes seeing them. He’s very passionate about it and when doing it, I think.

He likes receiving them but another where his partner would have to work hard to be permitted to leave them. Another who’s worried. Hes an idol, he can’t be caught with them. He likes receiving a lot of them though. He fantasizes about receiving them too.

Hyunjin

Imma crash out. Genuinely. He was so eager to do this he literally cut into Changbin’s. I was trying to draw the last few for Changbin then BAM. HYUNJIN. OVERWHELMINGLY HYUNJIN.

And guess what card I got?

Lust.

BECAUSE HWS HYUNJIN.

What if I cried? Then what?

And guess what song came on after this? Head sprung.

I’m sick and tired of Hyunjin. SICK AND TIRED.

But yeah.

I’m just taking the lust as an overall card and we all know what lust is. If you wanna know what the card specifically means…Google it? I dunno

Now that it’s HIS TURN

Surprise surprise he loves giving hickeys. I’m sooooo shocked. He likes giving a lot of them. 007 just came on. I have never heard this song before. I’m not surprised THIS is what’s going on right now. THIS ISNT EVEN MY PLAYLIST IM GONNA CRY. Anyways he likes them a lot. See…I have a lot of cards here. None of which I can even get any real meaning for

Hyunjin is stressing me out

He’s down for receiving hickeys and unlike the others doesn’t give a shit someone may see? Or rather doesn’t think about it. Someone in power probably pulled rank and said they’d do XYZ if it happened. Probably Chan. And he’s graciously choosing to pretend that never ever happened.

Han

Han is always such a breath of fresh air after Hyunjin. I love Han. I eat sleep and breathe Han. Han should stay the way he is because he’s perfect and I love him

He doesn’t mind giving hickeys and likes giving them in obvious places. I’m getting sun imagery so this is definitely his Leo Mars shining through. He thinks the hickeys keep anyone from trying to steal his partner away from him. Especially since as an idol he’s often gone. After he probably self reflects a lot. It also starts many o’ inner conflict when he reflects because it makes him really think on the why. He doesn’t want to think of or speak on the why.

Another who doesn’t mind receiving them. He high key WANTS the public to see them. Like a badge of honor. Very open and honest about their existence. Fantasizes about being all marked up with hickeys and fans catching him.

Felix

He doesn’t like it, point blank period. He believes it’s too aggressive and doesn’t want to hurt his partner in the process. He’d just feel very ashamed and guilty about it if he did. And he feels like the act of doing it just lacks any compassion for the receiver.

How do I say this…Felix likes receiving hickeys wrapped into a package of degradation. And aggressiveness. See…He thinks it may hurt because that’s how he likes it. When it hurts in the process. DONT SHOOT THE MESSENGER. Another who often can’t because he’s an idol. And he constantly changes his mind on the matter in general. But generally he enjoys it.

Seungmin

He likes giving hickeys. I don’t know where but he probably has his favorite spot that’s both enjoyable to give hickeys to and inconspicuous. He’s aggressive with it too. He won’t if his partner doesn’t want him to, though. He’s just generally very patient with his partner. Getting this links with his shadow self??? And I don’t wanna know??? So I won’t ask???

Very bluntly, he likes receiving hickeys. That’s all folks.

I.N

He does enjoy giving hickeys. In theory. Practically he’s never done it and thinking of doing it scares the fuck out of him for many reasons. Reasons we won’t get into fully but include and are not limited to; the humiliation he’d feel if it didn’t work, the fact he doesn’t fucking know the proper hickey technique and he’d rather die than ask one of his hyungs about hickey giving technique, he doesn’t know if he’d be too aggressive with it, doesn’t want to be turned down if he asked, etc. if asked he’d try with much swiftness though.

He doesn’t want to receive one AT ALL. I’m getting he thinks it’d hurt and he’d suffer and end up crying sobbing rolling on the floor about it. And don’t get me started on all the risks if the public finds out. Even if a staff member finds out and leaks it. It would ruin him and he’s not taking that risk for a fancy mouth bruise. Hell no.

[darknebula85]

23/11/2024, Log of DARKNEBULA85, 1:16 PM...

SPOILERS: Special Edition, Arcane Season 2, Episodes 7-8-9...

As I’m writing this, it’s 4:20 in the morning. I’m on a 24-hour shift, but here I am, watching the new episodes as they’ve just come out. The hype I’m feeling is so intense that I’m not even a little bit sleepy. Episode 7 is both the most beautiful and the most heartbreaking thing I’ve seen in this series. I spent the entire episode thinking, "If only everything had gone right, this is how it all could have ended…” Seeing all the characters together and alive (except Vi) made me so happy, yet it was killing me inside because, in our reality, it’s the complete opposite.Can we all agree that Ekko is the hero of this series??? A guy who had everything taken from him, suddenly gets it all back, and then has to give it up again to save his people. He succeeds in the end, but it’s still so tragic, he accomplished his mission but was left alone, without his family, friends, or the girl he loved. It’s devastating.I was absolutely crushed by the death of my favorite psychotic blue-haired girl because I held onto hope until the very last second that she would survive… But alas, it seems that in both universes, the sisters can’t be happy together. One of them always has to die. Still, I’m glad they each had someone to lean on as they mourned their lost sister (Vi with Cait, Powder with Ekko). And Heimerdinger? My poor little guy died, and no one even noticed. At least he went out happy, knowing he gave someone else the chance to achieve what he couldn’t. And Jayce… I always had faith in him. I’ve supported him since the first season, and I held back from criticizing him in earlier episodes because I knew there was a reason behind his actions. And, oh boy, there sure was. By the way, Ambessa’s design is hands down my favorite, what an absolutely spectacular character design. And the ending… It’s perfect. Everything about this series is perfect. I’ve tried to think of a single bad thing about it, and I just can’t. I don’t think we’ll see another show this perfect for a long time, it’s a true masterpiece in every sense of the word.I really hope the creators expand this universe. There’s still so much left to explore and so many storylines to wrap up, like the Black Rose. If you’ll excuse me, I’m now going to cry myself to sleep, considering I haven’t slept since 8 a.m. yesterday.

Yo seguiré en negación creyendo para mi mismo que Jinx sigue viva

Edit 10:53 PM... DUDE I’m at a party, and there’s literally a guy who looks EXACTLY like Vander. Same clothes, same hair, same beard, same size… I feel like crying and I want to die 😭